tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-61850566884398334382024-03-04T21:07:27.154-08:00One Fixer-UpperBy the time a house reaches my age it is often referred to as a fixer-upper. That seems an adequate description of my stage in life. Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.comBlogger322125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-42339836086323943782018-08-03T13:05:00.001-07:002018-08-03T13:05:40.358-07:00TeethTeeth are a good thing. I don't think we give enough thought to how much our general health is affected by our teeth.<br />
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My sister-in-law was in the hospital a few days this week being treated for malnutrition. That sounds horrible but it's a common diagnosis among the elderly. For whatever reason she began to feel bad. Food did not taste good to her, soon she was too weak to care about fixing herself something to eat. The more she didn't eat the weaker she got until she couldn't cook for herself. She lives alone which is often a negative for elderly eaters. Her income is meager so it's difficult sometimes to think of something to eat that she can afford.<br />
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There is though another player in this mix, her teeth. She badly needs a new set of dentures. It's difficult for her to eat a lot of food. Meat is often difficult for her to chew as well as a host of other foods.<br />
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It seems the healthcare industry does not view teeth as having much to do with a patient's over all health. Dental work is not insured like health insurance. Dental 'insurance' is little more than you get back what you pay into it, and that's about it.<br />
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How will she get new teeth? Likely she won't. She will continue to spend money from her meager income on compounds to stick her teeth in her mouth long enough to try to eat. She'll continue to make do.<br />
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I would like to see dental brought under the umbrella of healthcare. Why can it not be included in healthcare insurance?Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-49027702495291395032018-07-25T15:34:00.000-07:002018-07-25T15:34:48.975-07:00Homeless or HouselessAfter Bob died I felt the need to give myself a break from the news and politics. I only meant it to be a break but it's been so nice I'm inclined to make it permanent. I always have a bee in my bonnet so I turned to the issue of the homeless or houseless to relieve my boredom.<br />
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I have no idea why this subject caught my attention but possibly because it is real, it is happening in my city. I see it when I go out.<br />
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There appears to be a variety of variations of it. One variation is homeless people who find their way into abandoned RVs and attempt to live there. Sometimes on neighborhood streets, vacant lots, and other locations. These are easy to spot because the vehicles are in bad shape, and getting worse.<br />
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Then there's the very young living out of their cars or vans to save money. It probably works for them for a few years but not long term.<br />
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The ones that bother me the most are the retired people who have come to retirement and find themselves without enough income to provide a roof over their head. I think it probably happens more often to women than men. They take the last of their meager funds, find a used car, van, truck, or RV, turn it into a living space and try to convince people they're excited and happy to be living such a lifestyle.<br />
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It's amazing what can be done to a car or van to make it livable. Remove the back seat and passenger seat and you have space to make a bed, set up a tiny kitchen and call it home. Taking care of bodily functions can be done but it's not easy nor effortless.<br />
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What's going to happen if these people become ill? What happens when they're too old to live like that? Isn't this just kicking the can down the road on this problem?<br />
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I read the book <i>Nomadland, </i>which seemed to be a good place to begin. From there I've continued to explore.<br />
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More on the subject of retirement with no money, my sister-in-law has been hospitalized with malnutrition. That sounds horrible but it happens frequently among old people who live alone and become depressed. I've known two other ladies that recently moved into assisted living facilities for that very problem. My sister-in-law has no funds for assisted living. Are there older 'nursing homes' that will take people for their social security?<br />
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I wasn't blogging when the buzzards/vultures came to live at my daughter's home. Their habitat was being destroyed so they decided to come live on her porch. It was a pair so the lady laid an egg, then they ate it. Then she laid another egg. They were a nervous pair and projectile vomited on the window and patio door when anything upset them. The wildlife people were called out. They shook their heads and said they could relocate the egg but not the birds. Federal law against that, they're protected. They took the egg away but warned they would likely be back.<br />
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This morning they were setting on the wall of her back porch. They're back.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-16134639524523531102018-07-22T14:36:00.000-07:002018-07-22T14:36:45.177-07:00Journals and ListsI find myself drooling over the beautiful journals in stores today. Oh how I wish I journaled, but I don't. I've tried many times but it never seems to work for me. Linda at <i><a href="http://lindaslifejournal-artlady1948.blogspot.com/">Linda's Life Journal</a> </i>is what I call a super journalist. Her blog is a journal but she also keeps a paper journal and has for years. What a treasure she will be leaving her children.<br />
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Remember the ringed organizers that we bought refills for according to our needs? Now I was the queen of those. My daughter has always teased me that when I'm old and in a home she will come by every morning, remove the pages from my organizer, and throw them in the air. Then she'll scoop them up and leave me happy as can be with the task before me to organize again all those pages. That would probably work for me because I did love playing with organizers.<br />
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With my simple life these days a list and a calendar gets the job done. My calendar is almost empty. Do you use an academic calendar? I much prefer those to the regular calendars. Perhaps because I used one for seventeen years working in the academic world. Before Bob died my calendar was full, and poof, all that went away.<br />
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Since I tend to be scattered, and have the attention span of a flea in a hot skillet, I do better with some structure, and a list is just the thing. It isn't I don't know what I need to be doing, the tasks just seem to whirl in my head without a list to organize them.<br />
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To be honest, my list is never very long, and probably takes no more than an hour or so to complete, but I feel better with a list. Last week I timed how long it took me to run the vacuum, ten minutes. Yes I pad the list with things like 'make bed.'<br />
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Recently every day was Sunday when I opened my eyes in the morning. It finally came to me that I kept up with the days of the week by Bob's medical appointments. Without them I was lost. I fixed that. At the top of my list now I write the day of the week.<br />
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Are any of these things a part of your daily life?<br />
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There were spots on my carpet that really bothered me. Bob was hard on carpet. Remember he poured bleach in places trying to remove spots! Those places are there to stay. I just try to view them as love notes from Bob. I can't do that with spots of dirt. Neither can I get on my hands and knees anymore, nor scrub with the arm where I've had shoulder therapy. </div>
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I thought if I had a long handled scrub brush I'd be set. I found this Woolite set on Amazon and ordered it. I don't care about anything but the brush but it seems to work well. I don't want to do a full rug shampoo because I'm undecided how long I'm going to stay here. This seems to do the trick for spots. When I see a new spot or an old sport returning it will be quick and easy to give it another squirt and brush.</div>
Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-12640286557103970392018-07-18T14:58:00.000-07:002018-07-18T14:58:25.260-07:00What Is OldFor the first time I've noticed people now think of me as old, or that I'm still young. Now which is it? Young people see me as old and people over 80 see me as "still young." How do you know when you're old?<br />
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If I schedule an appointment with a new doctor she has no idea what she will be dealing with from the number 75 written on my chart. She could open the door to find me in a wheelchair not knowing my own name, or the days of the week. It's also possible she could find me running in place in my jazzy exercise outfit, anxious to get back out on the street and continue my morning run. (not likely).<br />
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Sometimes health ages a person prematurely. Loss of sight and hearing can have a severe impact on aging. Heart disease, diabetes, obesity, and many other health issues have a direct effect on how we age.<br />
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Some personalities age better than others. My sister-in-law asked me recently why I seem to be happy most of the time. I don't have an answer but I know that her melancholy personality is doing a real number on her when it comes to aging.<br />
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I think our view of life is a factor. I have no scientific proof, but I believe curiosity is anti-aging. It would be nice if we could drink from a bottle. Some people are old at 50 and others young at 100.<br />
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Looking at a stranger in a crowd, where you have only their physical being to go by, what tells you a person is old?<br />
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How do you decide who is old?Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-90299264742224174772018-07-14T10:55:00.000-07:002018-07-14T10:57:49.127-07:00Say That AgainI answer a knock at my door to find a young boy about 14 and a girl perhaps 18-20. The boy says "Good morning ma'am, my name is Joe and this is Jane. Can you tell me some things you think would make marriages last longer?" "Say that again," I say.<br />
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By then my brain has caught up with the situation and I explain my husband has died recently and I doubt I'm the person they need to be asking.<br />
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Joe, the boy, expresses his sorrow and asks if I'd like him to read me a scripture passage assuring me I will see my husband again in heaven. By this time my sense of mischief and amusement has kicked in. I was sorely tempted to exclaim in horror, "Don't tell me I've got to spend eternity with him. Could I go to hell instead?"<br />
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Fearing I might scar the boy for life I simply assured him I was at peace with my situation and it would not be necessary for him to read scripture.<br />
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After closing the door (Jane never uttered a word by the way) the situation made me laugh.<br />
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Whoever sent this kid out to proselytize needs to rethink that opening question.<br />
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They both were carrying iPads. He raised his when preparing to read scripture to me. Do you think he had the Bible in its entirety on his iPad? If so, King James is surely flipping in his grave. Everyone knows the Bible is not holy unless its on onion skin paper bound in leather.<br />
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This situation is a good example of how poor we are at communication these days. I live in a community with a lot of international people. Wonder what they thought about that approach?<br />
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If you have a spare minute I encourage you to read this <a href="http://murrbrewster.blogspot.com/2018/07/the-new-neighbor.html">blog post</a> from the blog <i>Murrmurrs.</i>Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-50506864600174421222018-07-12T14:45:00.001-07:002018-07-12T14:47:55.199-07:00Colored Pencils<br />
Since I was a small child I have be fascinated by pencils and pens, any old pencil will do. I have a lot of mechanical pencils but still prefer a #2 pencil. There's always an abundance of pencils around me.<br />
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Then it seems I wasn't the only one who liked pencils. Adult coloring books and expensive colored pencils became the rage. Supposed to be a way to relieve stress, even called therapy.<br />
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At first I was a bit embarrassed by it all. What adult wants to be seen buying coloring books and pencils? Then I began to see some amazing art done in colored pencil. I decided that was for me, not. An artist I am not. Drawing makes me very nervous. I can't handle too much freedom.<br />
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Since Bob died I've been like a flea in a hot skillet, can't settle on anything. Then I remembered the colored pencils I'd purchased when I was going to be an artist.<br />
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I love having a colored pencil in my hand. Any pencil is soothing to me. I struggled with a reason for coloring in coloring books. What are you going to do with them? You can cut the pages out and frame them I suppose but how many coloring book pictures do you need in your home?<br />
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I've yet to figure out why an adult would want to get into coloring books and colored pencils. Makes no sense to me. I only know that when I engage in this activity I am calm. I am at peace. I go to a good space mentally. I turn on an audible book and life is good.<br />
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What am I going to do with all these coloring books and supplies? Probably pitch them but they were soothing to my soul for a time.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-25204089943116549442018-07-03T13:44:00.000-07:002018-07-03T13:45:26.440-07:00Food Is Necessary<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I'm learning the hard way that food is necessary and I can't live on snack food, fast food, or junk food. It's amazing what comes back to haunt you when you mistreat your body. Many years ago I was hospitalized for pancreatitis. Guess what recently came knocking on my door? I am mildly diabetic, but can easily control that.</div>
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Mostly I consider food a waste of time and am annoyed that I have to pay attention to specific foods. Low carbs and low fat, that's the name of the game for me.</div>
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When Bob died I had two crockpots. I've never used one much because I never liked the mess. I immediately gave them to my daughter-in-law who thought she'd like to try crockpot cooking.<br />
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When Susan (daughter) was here recently she bought me a new crockpot! Let me tell you I was thrilled!<br />
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To my great surprise I have to admit there may be hope. It's a small one, perfect size for a person living alone. I also like the oval shape, food fits it better.<br />
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The best thing I've learned is you don't have to use liquid to cook in a crockpot. Yippee! No mess!<br />
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I like butternut squash but very seldom cook it because it's evil to peel or cut up when it's raw. From what I read this morning all I have to do is lay a butternut squash whole in the crockpot, with no liquid, and cook it 7 hours on low. Let it cool, should be tender enough to peel easily and prepare any way you choose. I can do that. I don't have the strength in my hands to work with one raw.<br />
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Rice and potatoes had to bite the dust in my diet. When you can have only half a cup it's not worth cooking for one. I don't like either one as leftovers. Rice is higher than potatoes in carbs.<br />
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Earlier this week I browned half a pkg of Jimmy Dean sausage. I cut an acorn squash in half and scraped out the seeds, put the squash halves in the crock pot and filled them with the sausage, no liquid. Cooked them on low for six hours, delicious. It would have been even better if I could have added a box of Uncle Ben's Wild Rice mix with the seasonings, and the necessary water for cooking.<br />
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I was pleased to see the new skillet she got me. She bought it for me to cook tilapia fish. Sorry, but I'd never tasted tilapia, let alone cooked any. I was in for a cooking lesson and oh my goodness, I do love tilapia.<br />
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I'm also eating a good bit of salmon but I cook that in the oven.<br />
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I cooked a Cornish hen in the crockpot, minus liquid and it was juicy and tender. Just right when you're cooking for one. The only negative was it tasted like chicken and I hate chicken.<br />
<br />Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-15484698436131557482018-06-27T13:43:00.001-07:002018-06-27T18:27:46.470-07:00So Much I Don't KnowAs a Texan I know far too little about the border, immigration, illegal immigrants etc. Living in the Pacific Northwest the subject of immigration brings a very different response than in Texas. I should be smarter about all this.<br />
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As a child I remember primarily immigrant men living and working on the ranches where we lived. They were referred to as "wetbacks," and lived in barns and sheds. I don't know what they did for groceries or if they became sick and needed a doctor.<br />
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I don't remember women and children. I was never in school with any children. I believe the men came alone to work and send money back to their families in Mexico.<br />
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It's all very different these days. Portland loves a good protest. For the past week or so there have been protesters surrounding the ICE building. ICE sent the federal employees home and locked the doors but that has not satisfied the protesters. They say they are not leaving until ICE is gone permanently. They then built a barricade of anything they could find, old furniture, packing crates, anything.<br />
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Our son works in a building by the ICE building and had to cross the barricade one morning to get to work. Eviction notices have been served but nobody is making a move. Sunday a large rally was held in front of city hall.<br />
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I'm so far behind on this subject I don't know where to start to become informed. This week I read about a book that I think may help me. <br />
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I don't want extremely detailed or complicated information, just enough to have some idea of the subject. I think I may need Cliff Notes. It all sounds troubling but I can't seem to get a handle on it.</div>
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Any suggestions?</div>
Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-49255394785532093442018-06-25T17:49:00.000-07:002018-06-25T17:49:51.219-07:002009-2018In 2009 I made a trip to Texas. I had no idea it would be nine years before I would spend another night away from home.<br />
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Daughter Susan recently made reservations at the The Cannery Hotel in Astoria, Oregon.<br />
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We had a wonderful time.</div>
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The good thing is she had such a good time she wants to go again.</div>
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I can be ready in minutes.</div>
<br />Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-36318257821246947102018-06-12T09:14:00.000-07:002018-06-12T09:15:29.913-07:00Flowers For The Soul<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Isn't this a wonderful arrangement? I wish I could say it was mine, or even that I was the person who created it, but that honor goes to<a href="https://lindaletters.blogspot.com/"> Linda Reeder</a>. Imagine opening the door of your home to a garden with enough flowers in bloom you could step outside and cut enough to make this arrangement. Of course Linda and Tom work hard in that garden but you can see the fruits of their labor here.<br />
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See that flower petal on the book? Bob never wanted me to have fresh flowers in the house because they sometimes dropped petals and that bothered him. After he died I went nuts having flowers.<br />
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Unfortunately I have to buy mine. I can only imagine how nice it would be to look at an arrangement and know every flower came from your own flower garden.<br />
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These I got for $4 because this bunch had 11 roses instead of 12. Did you know there's a date on the sticker on every bunch of flowers? That date tells you when they will remove those flowers from the sales floor. Look for the most distant date and you'll have flowers that should last the longest.<br />
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I like tulips but I do not like their lethargic stems. To prevent that I put them in a tall slender vase so they're forced to stand tall.<br />
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So goes my new life of having fresh flowers for my soul.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-22468732477434110492018-06-09T21:33:00.000-07:002018-06-09T21:37:40.927-07:00What’s Happening?I never thought it would happen but this old gal has checked out on news and politics. I decided I neeeded a break from thngss that were dark, and depressing. I only meant it to be temporary but it’s been so nice I may make it permanent.<br />
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At this time in my life it’s overwhelming to me. I will always vote but I don’t have to have a daily diet of news and politics to do that. Since I don’t watch TV I didn’t have that habit to break. I don’t take the newspaper so I didn’t have to give that up.</div>
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Facebook and Twitter were my primary sources. I made a list of all the people I followed on Twitter and Facebook, believing the break was only temporary. If the world blows up I can quickly reconnect with my list of names.</div>
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I’m making an attempt to listen to Jon Meacham’s book ‘<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Soul-America-Battle-Better-Angels/dp/0399589813">The Soul of America: The Battle For Our Better Angels</a>.’ First I bought it for Kindle planning to read it but soon realized that wasn’t going to happen, so I then got the audible version thinking I could probably have an easier time with that. It’s excellent and I’m enjoying it now and then when my brain chooses to focus for a few minutes. This is not the only time in history when Americans' behavior has brought shame upon their country. I find it helpful in times like this to look at history.</div>
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Recently I went with my children to hear White House photographer Pete Souza on book tour for his new book ‘<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Obama-Intimate-Portrait-Pete-Souza/dp/0316512583/ref=sr_1_4?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1528604699&sr=1-4&keywords=obama&dpID=51zbaGLMMfL&preST=_SX218_BO1,204,203,200_QL40_&dpSrc=srch">Obama</a>.’ That was a fun experience.</div>
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I’m just trying to hang loose these days. Trying not to get too up tight. The best way to do that seems to be to avoid news and politics, at least for now.</div>
Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-84618225489774306562018-06-06T09:20:00.001-07:002018-06-06T09:20:22.186-07:00Food For OneAs you can imagine I find this whole food thing frustrating. It's no secret Bob and I had many a battle over grocery store shopping and cooking. You'd think I would be thrilled to have the kitchen to myself. Not so. Somewhere during our 55 years together I lost my desire to cook. I am not at all excited about the kitchen regardless of who's in it.<br />
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I was sure it was in bad shape so I made cleaning it one of my first tasks after Bob died. Now when you look in my refrigerator it looks like a display model, almost nothing in it. I had no idea you could have so many groceries out of date but the pantry was full of outdated food.<br />
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I have no interest in food and certainly no interest in cooking. I can see why eating is such an issue with some older people. I try different things but so far have not come up with a workable solution.<br />
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I'm sure Bob was walking those golden streets Monday wringing his hands and telling St. Peter, "See, I told you she couldn't make it without me to tell her what to do." The light came on in my car to tell me I was out of gas. Horrors I thought. No doubt that's the first time that light was ever on in that car. Bob never let it get below half full. I was near the gas station so it was no crisis and no doubt I'll remember from now on to check it.<br />
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I don't like cars. I consider them a necessary evil. Public transportation is good here but trains and buses do not run up and down neighborhood streets. You've got to get to designated places on your own before you can ride it.. When you're young that's not a problem but as we age it often becomes problematic.<br />
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That means I'll keep driving and watch the gas gauge closer.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-353886771793503672018-06-03T10:33:00.000-07:002018-06-03T10:33:57.274-07:00DiscombobulatedFor a while I thought I was developing dementia and was greatly relieved to learn a time of mental fog is not unusual after the death of a spouse. Most of the time I think I do all right but it's the little things that get to me.<br />
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I have the attention span of a flea in a hot skillet. I simply cannot concentrate or focus. I've only managed to read one book since Bob died. </div>
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One day I counted new summer teeshirts in my closet and was surprised when the number was ten. I have no recollection of ordering ten shirts. I thought perhaps I'd placed my order twice, but every one of them is different.</div>
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I want to be kind to the earth but I never remember to carry in my reusable bags at the grocery store. I always buy a new one and promise myself to do better next time. I now have six bags in the passenger seat of my car. I even sat my purse on them in order not to forget, but still I got to the check out lane and realized the bags were in the car.</div>
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I understand why they advise waiting several months or a year before making major decisions. I think that is wise advice. I suppose time is the only cure for discombobulation. </div>
Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-4956932881952122722018-06-01T09:51:00.000-07:002018-06-01T09:51:00.862-07:00And The Financial StuffOne of the nicest things that happened during the time of Bob's death was an attorney friend who volunteered to take care of all the business. Oh my, that was helpful. It would be well worth the cost to pay for that service. I highly recommend it.<br />
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Today would have been Bob's birthday. This morning when I checked our bank account I wished there was a way I could let him know how well he provided for me. He would be pleased.<br />
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Bob was a twin and the two couples of us were always close. Each couple had two children, and the men worked for companies with good retirement plans and health insurance. It all seemed equal until the end. In death a huge difference was revealed.<br />
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My in-laws wanted all their money deposited in their checking account for them to manage.<br />
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Bob and I were not disciplined enough to work like that. We needed everything possible withheld from our income before a deposit was made to our checking account. The difference in management styles made significant difference at the end.<br />
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<b>My monthly apartment rent is more than my sister-in-law's monthly income!</b><br />
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I'm greatly concerned for the future of many that will be reaching retirement in the next ten to fifteen years. Companies have mostly gotten rid of pension plans. These days more responsibility is put on the individual to put aside money for retirement. I fear many are not disciplined enough to do that, and what happens then? I've just given you an example.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-33736498629887982142018-05-30T09:36:00.001-07:002018-05-30T09:36:39.585-07:00Time To GrieveI've been fortunate the grief advice I've received has been good, just not good for me. I listen and express appreciation because there's always a chance I'll hear something I can use in my situation.<br />
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Books are my first go to when I want to learn something new. I read around in several books about grief, and scanned some Internet articles. A friend urged me to read a book that had been helpful to her. I read it but didn't find it helpful to me.<br />
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A recovery group was suggested, apparently a very good one. I can’t see myself in a group listening to others talk about their grief experiences, and I certainly do not want to listen to myself talking about mine.<br />
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Family and friends relate their experiences with grief, and I don't doubt what they tell me. It's just that it's their experience, not mine. There are as many grief stories as there are people.<br />
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Looking at old photos brings comfort to some, just not to me.<br />
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Some people have very realistic dreams of their loved ones. I've never been a dreamer, and will be very surprised if I dream about Bob.<br />
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Journal writing is very popular today but I've never written a journal about anything. It would seem to me journal writing might be helpful to those inclined to write about their experiences. Personally, that holds no appeal to me.<br />
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Activity is good for some, but it only made me tired and anxious.<br />
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I've never spent a lot of time thinking about the past, and I doubt I will do that in grieving. Frankly I think Bob would be pretty unhappy with me if I did. Once was enough to live a lot of that stuff.<br />
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What am I going to do about grieving? I have no idea.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-46996781009219059342018-05-27T08:35:00.000-07:002018-05-27T12:14:00.662-07:00Time To Think About A ServiceFourteen years ago Bob and I moved to Oregon from Texas, leaving behind family, friends, people we'd worked with, neighbors, and church friends.<br />
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In Oregon we knew very few people because we did not reach out to make friends and have a social calendar. By then Bob had health issues so we saw a lot of doctors and went to a lot of medical appointments. Our son, his wife, and our grandson lived three miles from us and we saw them.<br />
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At death Bob was 85.<br />
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These are the things we considered as we thought about a service for him.<br />
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He was one of ten children but all his siblings and their spouses were deceased except for an 89 year old homebound sister in Texas.<br />
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Our former neighborhood had changed in fourteen years. It was an older neighborhood with many original home owners. Many of them were gone. They tended to be about Bob's age.<br />
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The men Bob had remained friends with from his work had one by one died over the fourteen year period. Only one remained.<br />
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A church connection was no longer in place.<br />
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Bob hated to travel and would have been horrified to think we boarded a plane and flew to Texas to have a service for him.<br />
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Had he died in a hospital here I had thought about asking a hospital chaplain to meet our family in the chapel to read some scripture and say a prayer. Instead, he died at home.<br />
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Susan was here for two weeks after her dad died. Instead of a service it seemed we just 'huddled' together as a family remembering Bob and telling stories.<br />
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I learned there doesn't always have to be a serviceLindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-28860228868403991082018-05-23T11:51:00.000-07:002018-05-23T11:53:00.368-07:00Then There Was CremationIn 2006 I submitted forms for us to donate our bodies to science. Why did I do that? I have no idea.<br />
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In 2018 I figured all that was long forgotten. Bob was 85, which I figured meant no one would be interested in his body for science. It seemed I should pay for a cremation and forget about the body donation.<br />
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The week of Bob's death an attorney friend was here going through some business papers and asked about the paperwork for donating our bodies to science. I passed it off as long out of date and I'd be arranging something else. She slipped out of the room, made a phone call, and returned to say the body donation paperwork was still good, and there was no reason not to use it. By then I didn't know what I wanted done about anything so I asked her to call our son and talk to him.<br />
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I know absolutely nothing about these places, and I sure didn't remember anything I'd done twelve years earlier. The one we used is called <a href="http://biogift.org/">BioGift</a>. So far all our dealings with these people have been good. I received a call yesterday his ashes are ready. I'll let our son deal with that.<br />
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The morning of Bob's death the hospice nurse called BioGift and they came out in a station wagon type car with no markings that would indicate their business in our apartment complex. They were very professional in doing their job, and thoughtful to us as family.<br />
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There was no cost for this service. I understand the ashes will be returned in a wooden box. We can then put them in a nice urn or do whatever we desire.<br />
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I seem to have an unwanted commenter from another country. I read about the steps to block a commenter but was unable to make it happen. I would appreciate any suggestions.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-66060715441913776922018-05-21T10:24:00.000-07:002018-05-21T10:24:22.235-07:00The Hospice FiascoNot one time did hospice care ever cross my mind when I thought about Bob. When he developed a blood disorder the hematologist told me people like Bob usually died from an infection that moved quickly or they bled out, but either way would be quick.<br />
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Bob and I were badly shaken when he went into acute delirium. In our wildest imagination delirium was never on the list of things that could happen. None of the specialists wanted to own that delirium, and believe me we didn't want to own it.<br />
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I needed to get Bob in to see a doctor and Friday is never a good day for that. As expected, none of his doctors were in their offices. I agreed to see a new doctor in one of the clinics where he was a patient.<br />
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This doctor actually did what doctors are supposed to do, he read Bob's medical records before seeing him. That was our undoing. The test results on Bob's recent bone marrow test were beginning to come in. This doctor entered the treatment room and immediately told us we needed to put Bob under hospice care. We were shocked, worse than shocked. Thinking back I can think of things I should have said or done but in that moment my brain was frozen.<br />
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That evening an intake nurse and social worker from one of the hospices came to visit. All went well until I had enough sense to know this needed to be run by our nurse daughter in Texas. I called Texas and had the intake nurse visit with Susan. After that things went bad in a hurry.<br />
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None of us slept that night. The next morning I called the hospice office and told them to hit the pause button, we were not ready to sign on.<br />
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Susan hopped a plane and flew to Oregon. One, among several, of her objections to the group we were working with was it being a for-profit group with offices nationwide. When I called their office a person in another state answered the call.<br />
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A local non-profit was what Susan wanted. That's what we did, and Bob's hematologist said he would be pleased to be the physician for Bob. We were all much relieved.<br />
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This was Thursday, Saturday morning Bob died.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-73896231132433549472018-05-18T15:39:00.000-07:002018-05-18T16:14:17.019-07:00Death Is Hard To PlanI'm a forward thinking person, and have a plan for everything I know the future is going to bring my way. Though plans often have to be changed, I am usually able to hang on to some of it. I could have saved my time with Bob's death. I learned spouses seldom, if ever, die as you think they will.<br />
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The morning of January 4 I awoke to find Bob in acute delirium. From that morning until the morning of February 25 we were in crisis mode around here. The blood taken trying to find a cause for the delirium revealed his blood disorder had returned with a vengeance. At 5:00 a.m. on the morning of February 25 he was returning to bed from the bathroom and fell across the bed dead. Not something in my plan.<br />
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This is the compact version. I'll be dealing with individual pieces of the story over the next few postings.<br />
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I've learned you cry some and you laugh some.<br />
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During those last days I would often find a wooden spoon in the bed or Bob would say he was laying on a spoon and ask me to remove it. The first night it happened I passed it off as happening because of his delirium but it continued to happen.<br />
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Finally, in one of his lucid moments, I learned he was using a wooden spoon as a back scratcher!<br />
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These days I can laugh about it. I wonder how long he'd been using wooden spoons from the kitchen as back scratchers? How many times do you think those spoons got washed before they went back in the cabinet drawers?Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-6438107057677306142018-05-17T15:37:00.000-07:002018-05-17T16:35:17.903-07:00Life HappensA lot of life has been happening to me over the last few months. It appears my sanity may be returning so I need to explain.<br />
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Bob died in February. Life before and after his death continue to consume my thinking.<br />
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I'm going to do a few short posts in order to pass on some things I learned that I hope will be helpful when you come to this time in life. No matter how well you think you've planned, you haven't.<br />
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I'd been thinking about the possibility of Bob's death since the nineties when he suffered a heart attack. His death was like the many times I took him to the ER. I learned something every time, and thought I would be better prepared for the next ER visit. That never happened, each time was unique.<br />
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You don't get a do over when you're dealing with death. Some things are basic but can be handled in a variety of ways. I'll share some of the choices we made and why. Society, and our situation, had changed a lot since the nineties causing some changes to earlier decisions.<br />
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His death was expected, only the moment was a surprise.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-49508778036708722702017-11-08T13:25:00.000-08:002017-11-08T13:25:12.887-08:00Gloating Is Not GoodI am pleased with yesterday's election results across the country. My concern today is that Democrats not gloat, it isn't nice, and it isn't pretty. Take a minute and think about how you feel when this image passes in front of you.<br />
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I feel no desire to gloat, I'm just thankful, and I'm grateful. I was able to see that our country is not as wretched as we've been told it was over this last year.</div>
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Following the news today is incredibly difficult. It's very hard for any political message, other than Donald Trump, to break through. He sucks all the oxygen out of the room. He's a distraction on every level.</div>
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I've been very discouraged and troubled, to the point my blood pressure is elevated. Yesterday gave me hope. We must press on for the good of our country.</div>
Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-32300295927888948502017-10-16T15:38:00.001-07:002017-10-16T17:10:42.454-07:00I Spoke Too Soon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
A few days ago I posted about taking Bob to the ophthalmologist. After visiting with him I felt I could go forth with confidence, wrong. I spoke too soon.</div>
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Soon after that visit Bob mangled another pair of his prescription glasses. Three times he's done this. I know he sat on them one time but don't know what happened the other times. Everytime this happens I have to take him and the glasses back where we got them and ask them to repair and realign them.</div>
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I decided I would fix that so I got a cord for his glasses. Surely that would keep his glasses safe. Nope, like glasses, you have to wear it for it to be successful. That idea was a fail.</div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">When I had my cataract surgery the doctor told me if I didn't want prescription glasses to get 2.50 strength reading glasses and I would be fine. This morning I went to Dollar Tree and bought five pair of reading glasses for a total of $5.</span></div>
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Go ahead Bob, lose and mangle those prescription glasses all you want, I can get more where these came from. This is it for you.<br />
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<b>HELP</b></div>
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I am commenting on blogs, I really am, but when I press publish the comment goes away, never to be seen again, perhaps eaten by Blogger? Anyone else having this problem? Know a solution?</div>
Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-30271801411330074342017-10-13T15:34:00.000-07:002017-10-13T15:34:35.529-07:00It Happened AgainSome time ago Bob was given a prescription by one of his doctors that did not play well with his other medications. We spent the day in the Emergency Room over that one, and our insurance paid a tidy sum for that mix up. Since then I've tried to be extra diligent anytime he receives a new prescription. I question the doctor, and read up on every new medication.<br />
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In spite of this we recently had another bad experience mixing medication. It was an inhaler that tripped us up this time. I don't know why I didn't check it. Perhaps I thought an inhaler was different, that it would be okay with pills. Who knows what I thought but this one got through my check system.<br />
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About a week and a half after Bob began using this inhaler he complained he was urinating a lot. I didn't give it a lot of thought. A few days later I was giving it a lot of thought.<br />
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Early one morning I heard him calling and he had fallen in the bathroom hitting his head. The next morning he fell again hitting the other side of his head. We were off the the ER to be sure he wasn't bleeding into his brain since he takes blood thinners.<br />
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When they weighed him I was shocked to see he had lost about 17 pounds in just a very few days. The scan revealed no bleeding but I received no answer for the sudden weight loss.<br />
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While we were at the ER our nurse daughter put on her investigative cap and went searching. She did the logical thing, started with his most recent prescription. Bingo, she had to look no further. She texted me what she'd found.<br />
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The short of it is this inhaler did not play well with any of the medications he was taking. It caused the diuretic to go into overdrive causing him to urinate off the 17 pounds weight loss, his electrolytes went crazy, even caused his heart to act up as was recorded when they checked his pace maker. He was a mess.<br />
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Daughter flew here from Texas and stayed two weeks with us. By then he had managed to scramble back into the land of the living, and has continued to improve, but I can assure you it was not a good experience.<br />
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I took great pleasure in dropping that inhaler into the trash bin.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-80159324884002085492017-10-07T13:52:00.000-07:002017-10-07T13:52:36.869-07:00Walker Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The time came when the doctor said it was time for Velcro to begin using a walker, and suggested we get one with a seat. Being the compliant souls we are we charged right out and got one. He wanted the Texas license plate added so daughter fixed him up. That's about as much good as I can say about this walker experience.</div>
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There are very few times when he needs this contraption. He uses it to wheel the trash out, and when he walks up to get the mail. That's about it.</div>
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I refuse to take him to Costco without it, so he's chosen not to go to Costco. Fine with me.</div>
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Shortly after he got it I found it very difficult to fold and put in the car, plus it was far heavier than I wanted to deal with. The contraption itself weighs 15 pounds, but it felt much heavier than that. Later I discovered he was carrying a flashlight, a wrench, and a socket wrench in the compartment under the seat! That's when I told him he was in charge of getting the thing in and out the car.</div>
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We made a few grocery store trips with it but it's hard to imagine how many ways he found to block me with it. In the check-out lane things escalated. He couldn't think how to turn around and wheel it on through and because of the grocery cart I couldn't reach him to turn him around and head him in the right direction. Once we'd completed our clown performance there and were leaving the store, I realized I was pushing the walker and he was pushing the cart!</div>
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We live in an apartment, not a house. The walker is too large to be of much use. One of the very simple, lightweight, folding ones is all he needs in the house.</div>
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In time I may grow to love this one but it will be a while.</div>
Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6185056688439833438.post-43177264546466959042017-10-05T15:31:00.003-07:002017-10-05T15:31:50.405-07:00Lost BillfoldToday's adventure was Bob's lost billfold. He told me early this morning and I wasn't too concerned. This happens occasionally, only to turn up later in a coat pocket etc.<br />
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As the morning went on the situation looked more serious. He's always been super good at finding anything lost, mostly because he never gives up. He had been hot on the trail of the missing billfold all morning, always with his trusty flashlight in hand.<br />
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I decided it was time for me to get involved. I looked in the car, no billfold. I went to his room, where it looked like he might be moving. He had everything pulled out. I looked around but still no billfold.<br />
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I still felt like it would turn up but we were approaching noon and still no sight of it. I decided perhaps I'd better cancel his bank card just to be on the safe side. That done I decided to abandon my part of the search, trusting it would eventually rise to the top.<br />
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About an hour after I canceled his bank card he found it in his underwear drawer. Why there? He never puts his billfold in his underwear drawer.<br />
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By this time I'd done some thinking. The thought of replacing his military ID was less than appealing. There was also his Railroad Medicare card. Drivers license, no need to replace that. I had decided it was time to make some changes. There's actually no reason for him to carry a billfold but his heart would be wounded if I took it away.<br />
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I asked him to give me his military ID card and we locked it in a safe place. He needs it once a year when the medical folks are updating their records. Since I do all that now I can keep up with the card long enough to get that done. I also asked for his Railroad Medicare card but he insists that one of the labs he visits regularly asks to see it. (Railroad medicare is different than regular Medicare.) Still I cannot imagine why they would be asking to see it. I'll check on that.<br />
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Ideally he would only be carrying his Costco card and his debit card. A lost billfold would then not be such an issue.Lindahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11586429675286969340noreply@blogger.com8