The Old Lady

I’m in total shock. I knew it would happen one day of course, but she was doing so well considering all the health issues she had suffered through for the last year or so. My husband was at the nursing home 5 hours ago and his mother was fine then. Her spirits were better and she seemed to have a more positive outlook.

I just got the call at 3am. One of the nurses from the skilled nursing facility called me and said “I’m calling about your mother-in-law.” I said “yes?”. The nurse said “she expired”. I couldn’t believe it. I asked the nurse what happened and she said she didn’t know, that she got the call to come up from downstairs.

I’m assuming the Old Lady had a heart attack. To receive a phone call like that seems cold and unfeeling but I suppose it is the proper way to tell someone that kind of news.

She was fine when I talked to her on the phone at 4pm yesterday and seemed fine when my husband visited her. I’m just in total shock.

I reckon this is the final entry in my category called “The Old Lady”. What in the heck am I going to have to bitch about now?

What’s worse than being in a snit? Being livid.

I found out this morning that the MIL would not be going home but would be going to a rehab facility instead. Of course, I already knew this but she is in denial and so is my husband so I just went along them when they said she would be going home.

Anyway, it is the hospital staff I’m so angry with. I told the discharge person/social worker yesterday what our first choice of a rehab home was. She told me that was the hardest one to get into. I told her I understood but to please try her very best and she said she would.

I spoke to the social worker again today and re-emphasized which home the MIL wanted to go to. The social worker said, oh, sorry, the facility does not have a bed, we will have to go with her second or third choice, whoever has a bed. Hello??? Maybe that’s they way they treat people that don’t have anyone to go to bat for them but that’s not the way they treat MY family member. I asked the social worker if she thought it would do any good for me to call the home myself and ask. She said she didn’t know if it would help but it couldn’t hurt.

So I called our first choice and they didn’t even blink an eye. I guess telling them that “I’m begging for a bed” may have helped, but I don’t know if that was it or not. They just said that they needed clinical papers (or whatever the term was) faxed over and they would see if they they would be able to help.

I called the hospital social worker and gave her the direct number to the rehab home’s admissions office. I asked her to please let me know if our first choice would be able to take her. That was at 1pm. So I waited until 3:30 without hearing from anyone. I called the home’s admissions person again and they said, oh, yes, we have a bed and gave me the room number. She said it was all set up. The social worker had said she would call me when she knew for sure but she didn’t.

So that was one thing that made me mad. The other thing was that the social worker tried to pass the buck. She said she had faxed the request to our first choice yesterday and got an immediate “no beds” response. I think she should have called them herself and talked with them instead of shrugging it off and calling, er, faxing around to other places. I guess that’s why it is good my MIL has me to go to bat for her. I might not be good for much but I’m good for that much.

The other thing that has me livid today is the hospital nurse. The hospital is 15 miles north of me and the rehab is 15 miles south of me. Last time the MIL went to rehab I went to the hospital and followed the ambulance to the home. The hell hole, er, home was in the same town the previous time though. This time I decided to wait until they transported my MIL and then meet her at the home. The social worker assured me that I would be called whenever the hospital arranged for transport so I could drive to the rehab home and meet my MIL there. So I waited. And waited. Finally I called the hospital and they said, oh, yes, we called for transport about an hour ago and we were given a tentative time frame of 2 hours.

Now as I’m typing this I don’t know just why I became so livid but I was just fit to be tied because I wasn’t called as they said I would be. Deep breath. There really is no harm done - it isn’t like she was taken to the rehab facility already. She is still at the hospital waiting for transport. The nurse now says she will call me when the ambulance gets to the hospital to transport the MIL to the rehab joint. Let’s just see if that happens. The Old Lady said she would call me when the ambulance got there to transport her but sometimes she gets disoriented and I didn’t want to depend on that. I will say she has been strangely coherent today. She sounded just like she did when I met her about 11 years ago, before she had all the medical problems she has today.

It is 6pm now and I haven’t gotten the word yet, so this looks like it is going to be another long night. I’m holding up just fine - I really have a very easy life. I just hope my husband doesn’t have a nervous breakdown from all the stress and long days he has been putting in lately.

The Old Lady’s surgery went well yesterday. Instead of vertebroplasty (super glue in the spine) she had a similar procedure called kyphoplasty (super glue in a balloon in the spine).

The only newsworthy thing that happened was the Old Lady’s threat to call her attorney and sue the hospital if they didn’t let her out of the recovery room. Haha, it is easy for me to laugh because I wasn’t the nurse in charge. I pity the poor people that had to take care her. I’m sure she made her demands known at the top of her lungs. I don’t know what her big hurry was - I thought she had to remain still and quiet for a few hours after the procedure to let the glue set. She also told them that if they didn’t let her out of there that her son was going to come in there and tear the place apart. geez. Maybe this was her anesthesia talking but she was a real piece of work yesterday.

She was all over the nurse’s ass for writing her vitals on a napkin. The nurse explained that she was going to put the information into the computer immediately. (There is a computer terminal in every hospital room.) The Old Lady just couldn’t get it through her head. She thought she was receiving bad care because the nurses all write information on a napkin or other scrap paper and then throw the scrap paper away!

Now I have to worry about whether she will be coming home or going to rehab. She had such a bad experience in rehab last July I doubt anyone can talk her into going again - even to a different facility.

So I guess I should probably write something. Some people say you have to blog every day to have a “successful blog”. To those people I say “kiss my ass”. Success is in the eye of the beholder. I’ll blog once a year if I want to and you can hit your back button if you want to and there you have it. Complete harmony.

So why am I in such a snit anyway? Lots of reasons but mainly the MIL and step-son.

This past Wednesday the Old Lady told me during my daily call that she was in excruciating pain. I got in my car and drove straight over there. She was lying across the bed in almost a fetal position. She had wet the bed because she was in so much pain (she has a history of compression fractures of the spine) she could not make it to the bathroom. Somehow she did manage to change her gown and her depends briefs so at least she was clean and dry when I got there.

She said she had been throwing up. She said she had not had any breakfast, said she did go to the kitchen to eat but was in so much pain she had to go back to bed. I saw the uneaten bowl of shredded wheat on the table. She said she took two pain pills at 8:30 instead of one. She said she had taken a Tylenol at 10:30. It was 12:30 when I got there. I got her some fresh orange juice and brought her another pain pill. I was very worried. I wanted her to go to the hospital. She refused.

She has been under the care of a home health agency since she got out of the nursing home in July. The physical therapist stopped by. The PT had planned to discharge the Old Lady that day because she had been doing so well. We got my mother-in-law into a sitting position and wheeled her into the kitchen using her 4-wheel walker which has a seat. I made her some fresh shredded wheat with sugar, milk and banana and helped her take her other medications.

The PT took her blood pressure and said “oh shit”. Her blood pressure was very high. The PT wanted to call 911 to take the MIL to the hospital but she refused. The PT called the MIL’s doctor and the doctor wanted her to go to the hospital. Her doctor is nice but he does not do hospital admissions. He said to take her to the ER. *sigh* I think she needs a different doctor but that’s a blog post for another day. At any rate, the Old Lady refused to go to the hospital.

The thing is, this past July almost the same thing happened, only she waited all week until Saturday night to go to the ER. We arrived at the ER that night at about 7pm and she didn’t get into her room until after 3am. That’s just how long it takes to get admitted. Actually, the same thing happened several months ago also. She waited until night time to go. This is the part that pisses me off. She said she would not wait so long “next time”. But she did. Again. For the third time.

I guess I really should not get mad at her about this because she is 85 years old and while she isn’t senile she is not as sharp as she used to be. But sitting all bleary eyed and sleepy in the ER for 7 or 8 hours (or longer!) when it could have been easily avoided by going in earlier did make me angry. We got to the ER this time at 8pm and by 2am she still was waiting to be admitted. We did something we have never done before but my husband had to go to work the next day and we just couldn’t stay up all night. All her tests had come back and the ER doctor did decide to admit her and all they were waiting for was a bed. And the Old Lady kept telling us to go home (like she always does and we never do until she is settled into a room) so we went home.

She told me she didn’t get into her room until 4am. There was no way we could have held up until that time - it would have been 6am before we got home.

So the Old Lady has a compression fracture of the T12 vertebrae. I know it is very painful and I’m not mad at her now about what she put us through unnecessarily. I guess it took me 4 days to get over it, heh. I wasn’t the only one mad, my husband was mad too. Several people tried to get her to go to the ER for several hours and she flat out refused. Okay, enough ranting about that. It is over and done with.

The sad thing about this fracture is that she had been SO careful lately and she didn’t fall or anything like that. It is just that her bones are so brittle and fragile that she broke her back just by twisting a little when she tried to get out of her chair. She is scheduled for a procedure called vertebroplasty on Tuesday. I really hope this helps her.

I’m worried about the future but there is no point in worrying about anything that really isn’t in my control. I’m trying to take it one day at a time.

I’m also mad at my step-son (the one that recently returned home from Iraq) but I’ll post about that another day. Or maybe next year. Or something.

Against the wishes of everyone my mother-in-law decided to leave the nursing home and came home this past Saturday. She will be under the care of a home health agency and will also have someone visit her daily to check on her and help her with her daily activities.

I’ve offered to stay with her at night but she doesn’t want me to. She asked if I would visit her every Friday from now on so of course I said I would. I do hope she doesn’t ever have to go to the nursing home again. There is no such thing as a “good” nursing home. Nope.

The social worker never did call me back so I threw a fit about that when I got to the hospital. I know I should not have done that but it really ticked me off.

It turned out that the Old Lady was able to go to Hawthorne after all and I didn’t have to transport her. I was shocked when we got to Hawthorne because the pictures on the internet looked so beautiful. My heart just sank when they took her into her room. It looked like an, um, nursing home. Yeah, I know that is what it is but dang.

I do feel for her and I’m sorry she has to go through it. It is only for rehab though and to help her get her strength back. I know I rant about her all the time but I don’t wish bad things to happen to her. I’ll do whatever I can to keep her from being institutionalized permanently, even if it breaks my spirit. And it will, there is no doubt about that. I took care of my mother in 2000 in my home when she was in the hospice program and I took care of my brother in my home in 2004 when he was in the hospice program. I know I should “be over it” by now but I’m not the same as I was before I was their caregiver and I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. (A good shrink would probably help but *insert any excuse here for the reason* I don’t go.)

My mother-in-law is not in the hospice program and has not been diagnosed as terminally ill, but she is almost 85 years old so that’s basically the same thing as far as I’m concerned. We are doing all the same things for her that I did for my mother and brother.

I’m beat and I must not be a “real” blogger or I’d relate the whole ordeal of this afternoon detail by detail. Instead, I’m turning off the internet for awhile. I’d rather read blogs than to write in them anyway.

My husband called me last night from the hospital when he was visiting his mother. He told me (which left me flabbergasted) that his mother had agreed to go to a facility for physical therapy for her back. He said she would be going to Hawthorne, which is a place she has been aware of for some time and decided if she ever needs to go then Hawthorne is her choice.

Hubby asked me if I would pick MIL up from the hospital, bring her home to get some clothes and tie up any loose ends and then take her to Hawthorne. Being the good daughter-in-law I am I said I would.

I started getting second thoughts this morning. If the Old Lady can’t even walk from her bed to the bathroom how in hades am I supposed to manage getting her into and out of the house and car, etc. etc etc.? Hubby was already at work so I called and ran that by him (and whined) but he said he can’t take today off. arrrrgh…

So… being the bad daughter-in-law I am I procrastinated all morning fooling around on the internet. (so what else is new?) Finally about 12:30 I decided I’d better find out what was going on at the hospital. I called the nurses station and the nurse said the Old Lady wasn’t being released today - that she was being sent to a “home”. I said “yes I know, she is going to Hawthorne” and the nurse said she wasn’t going to Hawthorne. The nurse said the social worker was working on “finding her a bed” wherever they could take her.

So I called the Old Lady and asked how things were going and to let her know I’ll be there in just a little while. I asked her if she was sure she was going to Hawthorne and she said yes, she is sure. I believe there has been a miscommunication somewhere and the sparks and fur are really going to fly if she is placed somewhere besides Hawthorne. The social worker was at lunch so I left a message for her to call me. I’ll forward my calls to my cell phone and I’m out of here.

I knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I didn’t know it was going to be like this. I hope I don’t have to fight with the social worker or the other hospital workers. I hate it hate it hate it but there are certain things I won’t put up with and having a hospital put my MIL into a home without her permission or her son’s permission is one of those things.

My telephone plus internet was out of service from Thursday until Sunday. Actually that wasn’t such a bad thing - I got caught up on a lot of chores I have been neglecting.

My computer is fried. I’m using a loaner computer which limits the things I can do online. I haven’t decided whether to try to have my computer repaired or whether to buy a new one. I’d like to do both. I could repair mine and put it at my mother-in-law’s house to use while I’m there and also buy a new one for my house.

My mother-in-law went to the emergency room Saturday evening at 6:30pm. Hubby and I didn’t get home until 4:30am Sunday. She really should NOT be living alone anymore. She vetoes any solution I come up with (fixing up her spare room for me and letting me sleep there at night) and I veto any solution she comes up with (I think she wants to come live with us). This situation is putting a lot of stress on our family life.

I probably won’t be around as much as I have been in the past until our home life settles back down.

*sigh*

I say again…

*sigh*

I should have known better. I really should have. My mother-in-law is a dog person and never had an indoor cat before. When she started talking about getting either a cat or dog I persuaded her to get a cat because I knew I’d end up with the pet sooner or later and a dog will not fit into our family of cats. I just didn’t know it would be this soon.

Lilly White kitty bit holes in the Old Lady’s oxygen hose so many times we all felt it was better to let her (the cat, not the Old Lady!) come live with us. We all thought we were doing the best thing by getting her a cat but truth be told it was just too much for her.

Lilly has been with us for about a week now and is settling in pretty well. She is tolerated by 2 of our 3 cats and hopefully she and the other female will learn to get along with each other too.

Although I really didn’t want another cat I’m happy to welcome Lilly into the family. I guess 4 is not much more trouble than 3. I just have to clean the litter box more often. heh

I started writing this as a reply to a comment Yowie made but it got long so I just made it into a post.

Oh, the old coot’s son, eh?

Keep in mind that the story you’re reading is the story from one person’s narrow-minded point of view. I’ll tell you a little bit from my husband’s point of view.

I know you can’t tell from reading here but my husband is bearing the brunt of the, oh God, I don’t want to say burden. But burden is the only word that really describes it. For one thing he goes to his mother’s house straight from work every other day and sometimes he has to detour to run errands for her. This makes for a very long day for him, usually 12 hours or more and he hardly has time to eat and watch a little TV before he goes to bed.

And he goes to her house at least one day on the weekend and often times both Saturday and Sunday.

There is a lot more I could do for the Old Lady to take some of the burden off of my husband but due to problems of my own I’m sort of a burden to him too, in a way.

The least I can do is take her to the doctor once or twice a month. That’s one less thing he has to worry about, and believe me, he has plenty. I should be doing a lot more for her than the few things I do but if somebody wants to bitch about me they can get their own blog! :p

When I do things for her I don’t think about it as doing something for her. I think about it like I’m doing something to help my husband. He is a good man so any little thing I do for her is one less thing he has to worry about.

But I’m not going to stop bitching about her.

I spent the day out on the town with the Old Lady yesterday. (Her doctors office and Bob Evans for lunch is the town for the two of us, hehe.) It was a stressful day for me but I can’t pinpoint the exact cause of the stress. I think it was an accumulation of things.

I had a hard time with the stubborn old coot (can females be coots?) when we got home. We have been using the same routine to get her out of the car and back into her house for over a year now and yesterday the routine got upset. Well, I got upset would be a better way to put it.

Normally I help her out of the car, run ahead, unlock her house door and run back behind her and help her to the steps. There are 3 or 4 steps but when you’re 84 years old it is like a mountain. So anyway, after I unlock the house door I usually run down and stand behind her while she leaves her walker at the bottom of the steps and uses the hand railing to help herself walk up. Then I bring the walker into the house.

Yesterday the routine was thrown off a bit because I ran ahead and unlocked the door, but I had to make sure Lilly the cat was still behind the gate we had put in the hall to keep her in the back part of the house. Lilly can jump over it but she doesn’t know it yet. I never know if she is going to be where she is supposed to be or if she will be standing near the door ready to make a run for it.

I don’t know why I agreed to this but when the mother-in-law tells me to do something I always assume the child role and feel like I have mind my elders. I was at the top of the stairs when she got there and she said “grab my walker and pull it up and I’ll hold on to it and go up behind it”. I argued but it didn’t do any good. I said we never do it this way. She said she didn’t want me to lift it by myself. LOL, I’ve been lifting it for a few years now - it isn’t that heavy. So when I said we never do it this way she said “I want to do it this way now!” so I felt like I didn’t have a choice.

I could just kick myself in the ass for Read the rest of this entry »

Again I ask, air ambulance? I never really knew such a thing existed. I’m glad to find out about air ambulance, because this is a service our family might need to use sometime in the future.

My mother-in-law is 84 years and has been living in Florida for the past 30 years or so. She has one bother that resides in Florida but the remainder of her family (that are still living) are all in Iowa. I know she hasn’t been back to Iowa for a visit in almost 10 years and I know she would really like to go. I believe she has resigned herself to the fact that she will never go there again. I’m glad I have found out about air ambulance because now I know there are options out there for my mother-in-law if she decides she really wants to go back to Iowa for a visit. I realize I talk bad about the Old Lady all the time but I really do want the best for her and I feel bad to know that she is sad in thinking she will never be able to go “home” again.

The air ambulance team members are specialists in medical flight. They transport patients along with a team of flight nurses and flight paramedics on-board a special air ambulance that is equipped with start of the art medical equipment. Air Ambulance provides basic to critical care which includes stroke, cancer, heart and transplant patients among many others. Air Ambulance can even arrange to have a physician or even her own doctor aboard. (Fat chance getting one of our doctors to fly to Iowa though, but complaining about our doctors is a topic for a different post, hehe.)

My mother-in-law has has numerous strokes and a few heart surgeries as well as a broken back. She is only operating with one lung and while her situation is not critical, she is fragile and is not able to fly with a standard airline at this time in her life. Air Ambulance coordinates from bedside to bedside to make the patient has the smoothest trip possible. With over 20 years experience Air Ambulance has gained the trust of hospitals worldwide and their support staff is on-call 24 hours a day. I’m really glad I found out about this company.

The last time I took the Old Lady to the doctor for her blood test her results were borderline so she was scheduled to come back in 2 weeks instead of one month. A few days ago she told us that she has a dental appointment this Thursday and that Louise (her neighbor across the street) would be taking her and that she owed Louise a lunch out anyway.

I guess she forgot she was supposed to get her blood test this Thursday and I was thrilled because I thought Louise could just take her for the blood test and the dentist as long as they were already out. I pitched that idea to her and really talked it up. *sigh* The Old Lady decided that she didn’t want Louise taking her both places because Louise doesn’t know how to work the little oxygen tank (portable) and she can’t be out that long with Louise. So now I get the honors of taking her to the doctor and dentist on the same day. Fun fun fun.

When the phone rings at 1:30 in the morning it is never a good sign, especially when the caller ID shows it is my mother-in-law calling. Luckily I was still awake (playing WoW as a matter of fact).

The Old Lady told me that her cat Lilly had chewed the hose to the oxygen generator (or whatever that loud contraption is called) and that she didn’t know what to do. I asked her for the number to the company that provides the machine and told her I’d call and see what they said. Someone is on call there 24 hours but a fat lot of good that did me last night. Of course, that’s my fault because I did mention that I could go over and get her hooked up to the temporary tank and that’s what he told me to do.

I had a lot of choice words for him after I hung up the phone, heh. But there was nothing else to do but drag myself over to her house. I found her spare hose and attached it and got her all hooked back up. I stayed with her for a bit to make sure she was okay and then drove back home. What an ordeal. Bad kitty!

That’s what I have to keep telling myself to keep moving. I REALLY don’t want to go anywhere today but I have to take the Old Lady to the doctor for her monthly blood test.

We were supposed to take the Old Lady’s kitty (Lilly White) to the rescue center to have her micro-chip inserted but they are giving me the runaround. When she was spayed last week and the center was out of chips the center owner said I could bring her back this week. I specifically asked if a vet had to be there and she said no, she could do it as long as she had someone to hold the cat. Today she tells me she will not have a vet there until June 20 or 21 and that I had to wait until then. I reminded her that she said a vet doesn’t have to be there but she backtracked and said she does not have anyone to hold today and on the 20th or 21st she is sure someone will be there. I just said okay, I’ll bring her then.

I’m going to get this chip inserted at the rescue center because it is already paid for and I believe if we take Lilly to our regular vet it will cost $40.00 (or was that $60.00, I don’t remember the exact price now). At any rate, I’m not paying for something I already paid for. Period.

But back to my Old Lady rant - I dread this trip to the doctor. It is always such a freaking hassle just getting the Old Lady into and out of the car and into and out of where ever we are going. Gawd I hate it.

Hehe, okay, it wasn’t that bad. Matter of fact, I’m feeling kind of guilty about bad mouthing the Old Lady all the time on my blog. As we all know there are two sides to every story and truth be told I am far from being a perfect daughter-in-law to the old biddy. (did I just call her that?) Okay, I’m not even a good daughter-in-law. Okay! I’m probably a bad daughter-in-law, but I guess I could be a lot worse.

For our Mother’s Day dinner I cooked chicken pot pie and my husband and I took it over to the Old Lady’s house. It wasn’t a bad day - I only got perturbed once and that was because I wasn’t used to her oven and the oven door slammed TWO times (it slipped from my hand and slammed shut) and the Old Lady had a conniption from the living room when she heard it. I guess if the situation was reversed and I heard someone slamming and banging around in my kitchen I might want to know what was going on also (trying to look at both sides of the story).

For dessert the Old Lady made a coconut cream pie. I just put the thoughts of her running nose (it didn’t do it Sunday) out of my head and had a piece of pie. It was actually pretty good. (I had to think over and over “don’t think about it, don’t think about it”.)

I call the Old Lady every day at 11:00 a.m. for the daily check up call. This morning during her normal blabbing session she mentioned that she would like to have a cat. She has been fluctuating the past several weeks about either wanting a dog or a cat. I have 3 cats and I know that when the time comes my husband and I will end up with which ever pet she gets now and a dog will not fit into our family. So I decided to strike while the iron was hot.

I told her that if she really wanted a cat that I would find her a cat and that I would do my best to find one and give it to her for her mother’s day gift. She said she really wanted a cat. So I began my mission. It was really simple since there is a “no kill” critter adoption rescue shelter in our area and they even have pictures of the animals at PetFinder.com to look at.

I am DEAD SET against declawing a cat so I looked for one on the adoption page that was already declawed (since I had a hunch the Old Lady would want her cat declawed). I figure if the cat is already declawed then the deed is done and I won’t be the one that is the cause of it. I found a kitty named Summer that seemed to fit the bill and called to see if she was still available. They said she was.

When I got to the shelter Read the rest of this entry »

I resent family holidays. I don’t like to be forced to do anything I don’t really want to do and going over to the Old Lady’s house on Easter ranks high on my list of things I don’t want to do. But I went and I was on my best behavior. The oddest thing happened. My husband got mad at his mother and a heated discussion took place. It was not a pleasant experience and one that I hope I never witness again. I mean, I’m used to getting into it with her but I’m not used to seeing my husband slam his hand on the table and tell her what’s what. It was pretty awful.

I’ve made a pact with myself regarding future holidays and I’ll be interested to see if I can keep it. I have decided that I will never eat another meal that she has cooked. I watched her wipe her nose on a kitchen towel and that was the clincher for me. I can’t get that picture out of my mind and I just want to gag when I think about it. I guess that’s right up there with the picture in my mind of her sitting across from me at the dinner table and seeing her nose running like a faucet. I’m trying to think ahead of creative ways to get out of eating over there again. For Mother’s Day I plan to prepare the meal myself as a gift to her. That should work but I don’t know what kind of excuse I’ll be able to think of for subsequent holiday meals.

Hard to believe it has almost been a month since I took the Old Lady to the heart doctor for her Protime test (the one where they stick her finger and test how fast her blood clots). She talked me into taking her to Wal-mart last time so it will be interesting to find out what she has up her sleeve for our next outing.

The reason I didn’t want to take her is because she honestly cannot walk more than a few steps at a time and I knew it would be a horrible experience for both of us. We don’t take her wheelchair because it is too difficult for me to get it in and out of the car and we can park at the door to the doctor’s office so she doesn’t have to walk very far with her walker. The only reason I agreed to take her to Wal-mart is that I saw a wheelchair parked near the Wal-mart doors the last time we went so I figured I’d just use one of theirs. Unfortunately there were no wheelchairs available when we got there but fortunately I talked the Old Lady into using one of those motorized scooters to ride around in. We’ll be using those from now on since it allows her the freedom to go where she wants to without having someone push her around. Plus it is a lot easier on me too.

We usually go on a Tuesday but she has hired a couple from England to do her house cleaning on Tuesday afternoons from now on. So I suppose we’ll go Monday or Wednesday instead. I dread it more than anyone could possibly know and I’ll be sure to give the report next week as to whether I had a horrible day or a good one.

She took her walker outside to plant a potato (yeah, you read it right, heh) and to weed her flower beds. She said she fell foward and couldn’t get up. She yelled but nobody could hear her. Finally one of her neighbors heard her and went to get Louise but they couldn’t get the Old Lady into her house. They had to go get a young man to help get her in the house. (The young man who the Old Lady didn’t even know lived with the neighbor and looked like he was in his early 20’s and was clean cut and he said he was a physical therapist.)

They finally got her into her house and into her recliner. She said she was not hurt and had no pain anywhere. She also said Louise gave her a pain pill.

I know she should not be living alone and I know this blog makes my husband and I look like complete asses for allowing her to live alone. There is a lot more to it than I have written so far. I’m not sure why I’m writing about her in this blog. Maybe it is to explain myself. I have some guilt inside and maybe I’ll be able to purge it here. Or maybe not. It might make it worse. (which is has so far.)

My job is to call the Old Lady every day to make sure she is still alive. I usually call her at 11:00am every day. I tried to call her today but her line was busy and was busy for a few hours. I finally called her on her cell phone and asked her if she was on the phone or if one of her phones was off the hook. (She has at least 4 phones in her house.) Well, she said she wasn’t on the phone so I told her to go check to see if one was off the hook. She called me back to let me know the pink phone in her bedroom was indeed off the hook.

Louise is the neighbor that checks on the Old Lady every day to make sure she is alive. She is about 74 and still active. She is a good-hearted lady and as far as I can tell would never hurt a fly. But my MIL is so bitter and unhappy and jealous that she makes fun of, gossips and makes snide remarks about everybody she knows. That’s why I keep my distance from her. No point in giving her more to be nasty about.

Here is the conversation:

Old Lady: You can’t tell by looking at the pink phone in my bedroom but if it gets bumped a little it is off the hook but it doesn’t look like it. (repeated several times)

Me: Okay, I was starting to worry about you.

Old Lady: Well Louise is not home. She went to get her nails done. Her fingernails and her toenails. Like anybody cares! *snide chuckle* Poor thing. Nobody cares about her.

Me: I think that’s wonderful. If it makes her feel good that’s all that really matters.

Old Lady: She is going to see Humperdink tonight. I saw him before in Punta Gorda. I used to have all his records but I gave them away in a garage sale. I don’t know why she got her nails done, nobody cares about her, poor thing.

Me: (exasperated) I don’t think she is “poor thing” for doing something that makes herself feel good.

Old Lady: Well, I have to hang up now.

Me: Okay, have a nice day.

All in all, the conversation wasn’t that bad, especially after typing it out. It is just the nasty way she has of saying snide things about anyone and everyone, and Louise is a person that cares enough about her to check on her and run her errands sometimes.

There. Maybe I can stop being annoyed now.

Nothing like spending the afternoon in the Walmart with an 84 year old lady who can only walk a few feet before tumbling over.

You know, I really wanted to write about this but I am so drained, so thoroughly drained, that I don’t even have the strength to talk about it. I just want to forget it.

The results of her protime test (at the heart doctor’s office) was within the range is it supposed to be. She can take the same amout of rat poison (Coumadin) and doesn’t have to have it checked for another month. At least that was good news.

I have to take my mother-in-law to the heart doctor tomorrow for a finger prick to check her protime level. I dread it. She will henceforth and forever be referred to as “the Old Lady”.