Emily's Telephone Conversation

(On play telephone)

(whispering) "Hello? Hello? Can anybody hear me? Did anyone see anything? Help me! Help!

Hello? Is this Blenden (Brenden)? Hi. Yeah. Uh-huh. I have to go to swim class. Bye Bye. Mommy? You want to talk to Blenden?" (mommy says yes and talks to the fake phone. Brenden says he wants to say good bye to Emily, so mommy hands the phone back to Emily.)

"Blenden? Is Cougar there? ok. (she waits). Cougar? Hi Cougar! Yep. Un-huh. Mommy? You want to talk to Cougar now?" (mommy takes the phone and talks with Cougar and talks about Emily. Mommy thinks she still wants to marry him and he wants to marry her, too. and will wait for however long it takes to actually do it.)

She has other, better conversations on the phone, but this one gave me a smile.

The Good Part of Summer

There are lots of good things about this summer; I ought to let you all know it's not been all bad.

We've gone to Disneyland, Knott's Soak City, Sea World, the Beach, the beach, the beach and the beach again...swimming classes, gymnastics and piano classes.

At Disneyland, we got to ride Buzz Lightyear's Blasters, and the new and improved Space Mountain. Space Mountain starts kind of slow, but it's so smooth and the interior is gorgeous. It does get fast, yes it does! It's great!

Soak City was great. Again, it turned out to be not as hot as we thought it would be, and the girls loved it, though it was a little too crowded for my taste. We still had a great time together, our little family.

Sea World is always beautiful and the shows are wondrous. San Diego is a great place.

Any day at the beach is good. It's been windy there, but beautiful every time we've gone. Mother's beach in Long Beach, and in Huntington Harbor (of Huntington Beach), Huntington State Beach, and Sunset. Yes Beach Boys fans, Sunset Beach is a great little beach and real. Plus, parking there is free!

We're going to Lake Tahoe in 3 weeks, very gracious and generous friends have invited us to spend a long weekend there with them (Thank you most G & G friends!). It's something we are so looking forward to doing.

We will host a Girl Scout/Brownie sleep over at our house in two weeks. We'll have 11 6-8 year olds girls sleeping over and doing crafts, playing girl scout games, and eating, and probably screaming a lot. I suppose I ought to warn the neighbors.

Scott took a day off last week and we went to the Orange County Fair. It was less hot than we thought it would be, and it was more fun than I thought it would be, too!

We all watched the Shuttle launch live this morning. I'm not sure the girls were very impressed. I was, though, with the events of recent shuttles, plus today's shuttle was commanded by a woman!! Attagirl!!

It's been busy--I want all of my eight readers (Welcome # 8!) to know it's not all bad--in fact parts of this summer, major parts even have been truly terrific!

I visited Poppy today

Forgive me for writing about my dad more than about the rest of my family, but for right now, he's really on my mind, and I guess this is what these online journals are for.

I visited Poppy today. I squeezed the visit in between running an errand and a meeting to plan our Brownie troop's overnight at my house the first weekend in August.

Really, I thought he'd be ok. I thought he'd be with others who were temporarily housed in this convalescent hospital, who he could communicate with, and get his physical therapy together with them.

Was I ever dismayed to find him in a lock-down unit, in the Alzheimer's care portion of the hospital all alone.

When I first entered his room, I saw this small, dejected man in his bed all alone. When he saw me, the tears began to stream down his face. We hugged, he cried some more, we hugged again. He said "I've lost hope."

The staff had shaved his mustache. I became angry. It wasn't bad enough they grouped him together with these screaming, begging, disoriented people (think One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest), but they shaved his mustache!! He’d had that mustache for over 25 years! We all liked it. No one asked him or me if it was alright to shave it.

A mustache seems like a small thing to worry about but it just added insult to injury to the shock I received at finding him in an advanced stage Alzheimer’s unit. I had been told he was only there for two weeks and for physical, speech and occupational therapy. Not that he’d be in with full-blown Alzheimer’s cases.

I stayed with him more than I was supposed to do; I had our babysitter staying with Emily while I raced over to see him and brink him his blanket as well as some clothing. We talked about all the people who had called inquiring about him: Mozzelle called from Montana, Denise called from Colorado, Florence and John both called and wrote a letter to the both of us letting us know how much they thought about us, and even my Aunt Georgia called and asked about him. He seemed very glad to hear all that. Dad seemed to like the blanket very much. He cried some more; we hugged for a very long time and said “I love you” to each other several times and I had to leave. I stopped at the nurse’s station and she very kindly listened to me explain how I felt about him being in this unit and about his mustache getting shaved. She told me who I could contact in the morning in order to set things right again for my dad.

When I left, I got one more glance into my dad’s room and blew a kiss to him. He seemed a little better, but it was such an angering and depressing experience. I want him to see the girls, but I don’t want them to see him right now. I certainly don’t want them to go there yet. Maybe I’ll let them see him if and when they transfer him to another room. It’s so sad to see my intelligent, loving, caring, physically fit dad lose his fight for life one piece of him at a time. I’m beginning to see the “blessing” of my mother passing so suddenly. I do hope we can get him moved out of that unit, at least.

Update on Poppy

Boy--i haven't written in my blog all week, have I.

Well--Poppy is doing somewhat better now. The results of the MRI determined there weren't strokes this time, but I still have my suspicions because of his symptoms. Plus, his doctor keeps saying he has Alzheimer's and dementia, which I thought were kind of the same thing.

He regained most of his ability to speak, thankfully, but still has trouble finishing sentences and coming up with the word he wants. It's nearly ironic--he used to kind of yell at me for putting words in his mouth, and now I have to do that or we'll never finish a conversation. Now he seems relieved that I am putting words in his mouth.

He still is unable to walk. The hospital staff tried to give him some physical therapy, and after a week, he still could only take one, maybe two steps.and then needs to get back into the wheelchair or bed. He's also still very weak from the pneumonia.

However, his skin color has returned, he looks at me when I visit and does seem to know that I'm there, and, he doesn't fall asleep while I'm saying hello, or while he's talking.

More about Poppy

Our Poppy remains in the hospital, and we don't know exactly when he'll go home.

This evening, the doctor phoned me to get some information, and to tell me what he knows so far.

The biggest suspect is more small strokes, or TIAs (Transitional Ischemic Attacks), but now he also has a fever and pneumonia. He is unable to communicate with us except for a few words. I'm kind of used to him not talking much, but this is unusual even for him. He has begun several conversations with me, but says the preface, such as, "I'm concerned..." and closes his eyes and doesn't finish. Today when I visited him, he said, "By the way..." I got closer to him so he wouldn't have to talk loud, but then his eyes closed again, and he didn't say another word.

I asked him if he needed to rest, and he nodded his head "yes." I noticed that the left side of his body was shaking. I said "I love you, Poppy," and went home.

Tomorrow the staff will run an MRI on him to see if indeed he has had small strokes; I suppose we'll know more by Friday.

Poppy

Just a quick note before I leave; Our Poppy is in hospital again. We admitted him last night. His doctor and I suspect a couple of small strokes or TIAs.

Poppy has not been himself for a few weeks. Sunday night we had him over for dinner; he could hardly get into the van, or even out of his wheel chair. He was unable to have a conversation at all--we'd ask him a question and he'd begin to answer, then close his eyes. We'd have to kind of touch him, gently shake him to get him to open his eyes, too. He could not get his drink into his mouth. He either could not tip the glass up high enough for the drink to get into his mouth, or it would spill out of the left side of his mouth once it got in.

He has no peripheral vision in his left eye. That could be from the TIA or could be from macular degeneration. We just don't know.

I'm on my to visit him. I'm not sure he even knew where he was when I left him last night. He appeared to fall asleep right in the middle of the doctor's visit yesterday afternoon. He is so lethargic.

We're more than a little worried. Uncle Papa, would you please call Aunt Evelyn for me and let her know about my dad? I'd appreciate it.

I'll update as soon as I know anything.

Last Week's Friday Fiver

1. How did you learn about the bombings in London?

Scott woke me as he dressed for work. Just like he woke me for the attacks on New York and Pennsylvania. We watched it unfold on KTLA, at least until the girls awoke.

2. Do you have any personal connections to the area?

Oh, yes. Good dear friends live in and near London, we travel there whenever the opportunity affords itself.

3. Do you use public transportation?

Odd, usually only in a foreign country. California doesn’t have great public transit systems, unless you’re in San Francisco and it’s region. I had to use it when I sold my car, and realized yet again why I don’t use it here at home. It takes three hours to get somewhere that I can get in an hour in my car.

4. Have you ever let threats of terrorism change the way that you live each day?

Only to be more aware of my surroundings. I traveled to Boston Logan and on to Vermont the month after the attacks in New York in 2001. It’s been somewhat scarier, but I’ve still traveled. Plus, I can’t let them infect my every day life. If I do, then the terrorists win. However, I don’t do things that my put my children in jeopardy, either.

5. If you could say something directly to the person or group responsible for this tragedy, what would you say?

My good old friend Karen put it so nicely, so I’ll plagiarize her:

Whatever god you believe in wants all people to live together in peace. Live and let live. If you don't like the way we live in the west, either ignore us or work together with us in a constructive way to help bring about change for all of us. (I saw a nice bumper sticker yesterday: "Sow justice, reap security.")

The Weekend

Saturday, we went to a great picnic put on by my dear husband’s company. It was 1-1/2 hours to drive there, in the Santa Monica Mountains to the east of Malibu. Three swimming pools, a foam field (foam where the kids could slide and play—sort of like snow, but for warm weather), volleyball, soccer, a water maze with water-powered weaponry, a rock-climbing-bounce thingy, three or four bounce houses, pony and merry-go-round rides awaited us for our entertainment. The party planners also made dinner: BBQ ribs, chicken and hotdogs, plus roasted corn on the cob, potato salad, green salad, fruit salad, make-your-own sundae buffet, popsicles, along with popcorn Yummm, yummm!. Mickey & Minnie Mouse, and some of their friends made appearances, too! It was great fun and we were all sun-tanned and tired at the end.

Yesterday, I made dinner for my dad and found out he couldn't eat it. We think he may have had another stroke, or that a new medicine he’s taken for a few weeks has deleteriously affected him, but we won't know till he sees the doc tomorrow. Last night he seemed unable to get food to his mouth, or drink out of a glass. His milk spilled out the left side of his mouth while he tried to drink it. He kept leaning his head to the left as if to catch it--once I thought he'd fall off his chair trying to catch the milk. I felt so bad for him. He seemed so very out of balance, both mentally and physically. It's hard to watch him get worse and worse so slowly.
Time to go; my may-ann is home and hungry.

London Calling

My heart and thoughts go to all of England.

That is Not All, No, no, That is Not All!

Last Wednesday, Emily had what we adult women would call an invasive procedure done. We drove to the hospital, to children’s Radiology department so the staff could perform a VCUG (Voiding Cystourethrogram). This url, www.pedsimaging.com/Webpages/VCUG.htm says that it is:

This is a test which evaluates your child's bladder and urethra (the tube which carries urine out of the bladder). It is often done to help determine if there is reversed flow of urine from the bladder into the drainage system of the kidneys. This condition (vesico-ureteral reflux) can be silent until your child has a urinary tract infection with high fever. It is important to know, since this can lead to damage or scarring of the kidneys.

Another site says that both parents and children uniformly dislike this test. I was worried, but Em came through well. The radiologist said “she was a real trooper.” I thought we’d be able to treat Emily to something special, like going to Mother’s Beach (a sandy beach in the bay with few, if any waves and a life guard every 50 feet or so).

However, Poppy took precedence once more. We got out of the hospital early, and long story short, I had arranged for his residence driver to take him to the dentist. He does not like the way this driver drives. Emily’s test took priority for me, so it was the only way to get him there. So, when we got done early, I took pity on him and picked him up from the dentist. He wanted lunch (he had lost part of a tooth, and had to have the rest of it extracted.) So, I asked him if we could eat it at home, but no, he wanted to eat it at the restaurant. Two and one-half hours later, he finished his soup. It took him that long to eat his soup and two tortillas. It was not because of his tooth, oh, no. He just enjoyed taking his time to eat.

I had told him about Em’s morning; told him that I wanted to do something special for her, and for Sarah for being so good to Emily all morning, and at one hour, 45 minutes I asked him if we could go. He said yes, and took several more bites as if he was moving nowhere. I took the girls next door to the bird store so they could play with the baby birds and look at the pretty, exotic grown up birds. We went back to the restaurant after about ½ hour, and Poppy was finally nearly finished with his soup. I could have screamed!

By this time it was 2:30, and too late to go to Mother’s Beach or any other beach for that matter, and I was angry that once again, I let Poppy take priority over my children. I could still scream! Then he wanted more. I finally said “NO.” I took him home, went to my home with my children, and tried to figure out something fun to do at home. It didn’t work so very well, but at least I tried.

There is even more, but I have to go for now.

Sort of an Update

Well, I haven't written for a week or so, and haven't read any blogs, either, so I thought maybe I ought to write an update of sorts about what's been happening. I promise this will be the short version--really!

I haven’t really felt like writing, and perhaps I should have written anyway. Lot’s of family things, emotional things, financial things happening around here have made me a confused, scattered, dazed, and more just than a little crazy person.

Monday (6/20) I sold the Explorer; Tuesday (6/21) I sold the Lincoln. Wednesday I had a smallish nervous breakdown. The girls both behaved in such seriously bad ways, I wanted to be institutionalized in order to get away from them before hurting myself or one of them. Really. I screeched at them like never before. I used a flip-flop (shoe) as an attention getter on Em’s rear-end. She would not cooperate. I knew I had to retreat and regroup, but it just was not possible, since every time I blinked it seemed they were screaming at each other, hurting each other, speaking very disrespectfully to me, not doing what I asked of them. It got so bad that at around 5:30 a very good friend came over and stayed with me until Scott got home. This really is the short story.

I think maybe I was having some grief re-visits triggered by selling the cars, especially Poppy’s Lincoln. He truly loved that car, and he and my mom had such great memories of trips, both long and short in it. It always looked so cute to see them driving up our street to visit us. Losing it I think, kind of marked another chapter ending.

On the bright side, we now own only two cars and they both fit in the garage, even with the girls’ bikes and trikes, and my bike trailer. I’m very happy, especially since Poppy said he was relieved to get rid of the car and issues that went along with it.

I don’t really remember much of the rest of the week, except for the beach party that got too cold (in California even) and got transferred to the hosts’ home. What a great party! Scott and I both felt as if we were “hanging” with the old high school folks—old friends with the same memories we had . We could say one line from one movie or song, and it got finished by one or the other in the group. We both said we hadn't laughed like that for years. It was something we definitely needed!