Chez Rozarie

We had our girls' graduation party this weekend, with lots of outside set up to be done, some cooking, and some running around.  Of course, a fun time was had by most (never say all~!).  Great to see folks, and be able to sit and talk. Well, I planned on keeping Mom busy in the morning, and prior to the party.  She gets confused if she doesn't have some specific things to do, and hates to be told to go sit down.  We gave her stuff to bring outside - you know, all those things you have to schlep outside.  Took about 6 trips back and forth, then we were pretty much set. Where was Dad, you might wonder...well, so did we!  Dad was hiding up in their room...no work to be done for him!  We were actually alright with that - imagine you are setting up chairs, tables, bringing food out, and there is this old man sitting in a chair right in the walkway, telling people the best way to do everything.  He's really not old enough to be doing it that way, nor ...

My gramma always mispronounced words...Tylenol was tyrol, hysterectomy was hysterectoroutomy, for example.  My Dad has inherited this trait, as we again observed tonight.  After a nice dinner out (their favorite restaurant is Ninety-Nine so that's where we all went - yup!  The five of us and the parents), we came home to the heat.  We all popped out to sit on the front porch, even the dog. Stoop sitting is a family tradition.  People just don't do it anymore, but we still do.  We live on a busy street, lots to see, and we can watch the sun go down.  No air conditioning except in Mom and Dad's room, so sitting outside makes more sense than rushing into the house. Now our dog can occasionally get a bit aggressive, and we can tell when that's coming because his penis pops out just a bit.  As there were other people on the street, I wanted to be sure he was calm.  He was sitting on the stoop, and my Dad was on the stair right below, standing....

So as I was leaving work tonight at 7, there were some smokers outside...I said, "OK, who left the door open with the heat on?"  They laughed and jumped right into the conversation with comments like, "Sorry, Dad!  I didn't know the heat was on..." All this reminded me of all those times we heard that from the 'rents, well, in my house it was only from Dad. Mom never yelled at any of us for leaving something on - that I remember, anyway.  Remember these comments: "Do you think I have stock in the Electric Company...Are you going to stand in front of that open fridge forever...What the hell is the front door doing open in January...Lights don't turn themselves off you know." Well, what goes around does come around... I said to Dad tonight, "Your air conditioner is on." Dad's reply, "Yup.  Miah came and put it in for us." Me, "You're downstairs.  Your air conditioner is on." Dad's reply, "Yea...

So Friday, we waited for the van to arrive on the flatbed from Florida.  Dad was a bit nervous, anxious I guess, to be behind the wheel again.  I'm sure he was as tired as being driven around as we were of driving him around!  We're all sitting around waiting...finally, we hear a truck horn!  Dad RUNS (yes, he did!) outside, sling swinging.  He immediately starts yelling at the poor flatbed operator from West Haven.  When you get your car trucked up from down South, they drop it at a depot in New Haven, then farm out the door to door to local folks. So the poor guy is doing his thing - taking care of the chains, and the anchors and moving the truck to get the car off the bed.  Mom, Casey and I traipse outside to watch the show, sitting on the front porch.  Dad is yelling over the motor of the truck and waving his arms (yes, BOTH of them).  Then Dad runs up to me and asks me if I have a $10 bill for the tip...doesn't want to give him a $20......

The weather this weekend reminds me of all the softball games we went to as kids.  Dad played on 2 phone company teams, and one or two bar teams.  One SNET team was a "good" team - played to win, wanted to go to tournaments.  The other team was a "whatever" team - played for who bought drinks after the games. The bar teams were the fun folks.  More about those later. First practice was always on Good Friday.  When I got married, my mother-in-law thought I was a heathen because I didn't know there were actually church services on Good Friday!  I truly thought it was the official start of softball season.  I still haven't set foot in a church on Good Friday, but will gladly go to a game that day! Dad's games were on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays.  Tuesdays and Thursdays, he would race home, then we would run in the car, and drive to Fairfield from Lordship.  McDonalds had opened at the Circle in Fairfield, so we would stop there for dinner...

I was going to write about the many fun years of softball watching, and then playing with my Dad as the umpire and me as the catcher.  However, after a fun doctor visit today, I thought I would share the impact of technology in the medical field with whoever is reading. As you may remember, Mom had 2 strokes about 6 weeks ago.  We are now in the world of vascular medicine as the doctors look for where these strokes came from.  There was no Vulcan mind-meld, or sudden zap to the back of the head for Mom.  In Florida, apparently, ultrasound is not considered a good diagnostic tool for blockages of blood flow to places like the brain.  It is, however, used in the rest of the United States.  The first place the vascular doc figured to look was in her neck - the carotids.  So funny that she spent a week in a hospital and no one there chose to actually look where a blockage may have been... Today was the ultrasound.  I made Dad sit in the waiting room...

Bed time at the Rozarie/Palazzo household is full of fun. Mom and Dad sit on the couch from Jeopardy through whatever is on television between 8:30 and 9:00.  Tonight,"My Big Fat Gypsy American Wedding" was on.  When a show like this is on, you know Casey is in charge of the remote.  So Mom and Dad sat here and watched the 18 year old young lady swear at her mother for ripping up her daughter's Social Security card the day of her wedding.  Other people in the young lady's family were also unhappy about the wedding, as were the young man's family members.  There was a big fight outside the wedding venue (a courthouse, appropriately enough!).  Some anatomical parts had to be blocked out, and Mom says, "This is horrifying.  I want to see if there's going to be blood from the fighting."  She was leaning in a bit, anxiously awaiting the fight results.  Dad was entranced by the girl fight going on.  He's discovered quite a treasure trove of av...

You know, my parents haven't always been the "old folks".  They used to have the very best parties, back in the day.  Dad tended bar at "Pops" - a dive on the Seawall in Stratford.  Mom loved dropping us off at the bar so she could do whatever with her buddies - I don't really know what she did, but I know she loved getting us out of the car (she'd peel out as soon as we slammed the doors when she dropped us at the parking lot!).  We'd walk in, sit at the bar.  Dad would automatically hit the button on the little toy guy behind the bar that came out from behind the fence to pee (or else we would beg him to do it and he didn't want that to happen).  Then we'd get out sodas with straws and get a table by the window.  The old guys would sit with us, and call us "curtain climbers",  and "rug rats".  We'd drink up the sodas like they were beers at happy hour prices, then go stand by the pool table.  The old guys would start...

Each doctor visit begins the same way..."Come on, let's go, what time is the appointment?  Didn't I tell you to be ready?"  With some grumbling, and why questions, they load themselves into the car.  Mom goes into the back seat.  Her comments include" "Your car is so dirty" "Why do you have a Gibbs College mug here?" "What do you want me to throw out?" "This is so disgusting" Dad sits in the front, pulling the car door closed across his body since his right arm is still "broken".  He is able to open cookie packages, write, flip through his baseball cards, cook and lift pots of pasta with his right arm.  Then he gives me a line about his seatbelt, after I remind him to put it on.  "When I worked for the telephone company and we had to go in the cars or trucks, we weren't allowed to put our seatbelts on until we had the car facing forward so I never put my seatbelt on until the car is facing forward....

It is the never ending story I think...I get home early tonight...the folks are sitting on the couch.  The TV is off...they are just sitting there!  I sort of ignore them and go upstairs to change.  Coming into the kitchen, I grab a baking dish, get some chicken tenderloins out of the freezer, spray the pan, open the fridge to figure out what to put on this freakin' chicken.  No JD Barbecue sauce, no Italian dressing...ahhh - there's a lemon with some peel off...(used it for the lemon ricotta cake last week).  I grab the olive oil, throw some on the chicken (frozen like flat rocks), cut up the peeled lemon, squeeze the pieces over the chicken, then grab the breadcrumbs and toss some in.  I push the dish into the oven (400).  I tell Dad to get in here (yup - tell him).  He says, "What are you doing?"  "Getting your dinner, old man, what do you think?" "Why are you home so early?"  "To feed you people...what were you going to have to eat?"...

Tuesday nights is out for pizza at Salerno's night.  Thank you Uncle Don, and Aunt Bev!!!  They pick up the 'rents, and bring them to Salerno's.  Tonight was Aunt Bev's birthday.  Since Dad has no car, he went next door (yes, yes he did) and asked our neighbor Rob (who was home to WORK ON HIS KITCHEN remodel!) to take him to the bakery to get Aunt Bev a cake.  Yes, that was a very important thing to ask our wonderful neighbor to do (AND INTERRUPT his work!!!).  Dad couldn't call me and ask me to pick one up, or ask someone else to get one... While Mom was getting ready to go out, she was looking for her lipstick..."Do you have any lip rouge?"  While she has been "on" all week, this kind of stuff is never gonna go away.  She continued to walk around asking for lipstick - asked Dirk if he saw her lipstick, she checked her pockets, her eyeglass case...asked my Dad about 8 times.  Then she was incredulous that Casey doesn't have any lipstick. ...

So, I work late on Mondays, and don't get home till after 9.  Lots of drama happens when I'm not here.  So the first 15 minutes of being home (not yet able to go pee, start my own dinner, walk the dog) are always a recap of the drama filled afternoon and evening.  First I hear from Dad - no hello, no how was your day..."Your mother folded your clothes YOU left in the dryer.  They're on your bed...WE needed the DRYER."  "Thanks, Dad, I appreciate that."  Then he says to Casey, "Can you wash that frying pan I used?  I can't wash it."  Casey, not happy, walked away, bitchin' bout people using stuff they know they can't wash...talk about pots and kettles!  Out loud she said, "Sure Poppie" as I finally got out the door with Santana.  Remember, I still haven't gotten a chance to pee, or start my dinner. I come back in, Dirk is in the kitchen, tired as hell, and a bit upset the the old people left all the windows open all da...

Today was our appointment with the PCP to review the scans done in Florida.  Dad kept saying, "He should take her off coumadin today", Mom said, "What?  What's going on?"  I drank my oh-so-necessary iced coffee while waiting.  Doc came in, Dad didn't even say hello...started asking about the coumadin.  Being me, I stopped Dad, and modeled the appropriate behavior for him (Hello, Dr. so and so).  Turns out Mom has a partial blockage in the artery that goes into the carotid (probably cholesterol based).  Not in the written reports from FL, not mentioned at all.  Turns out a separate review of films is a good idea.  Turns out being on coumadin was a lucky choice of drug.  Turns out she's staying on the coumadin. While Dad is going on and on, Mom is making the funniest possible faces at him, and sticking out her tongue at him.  I'm watching her, and trying to pay attention to what Dad's version of life with Mom is.  He was trying ...