Fun

The saga continues...Dad still has a procession of people coming in almost every day.  I never know, however, when they are scheduled for, or what day.  Most of them are alright with our Santana.  Big shepherds can be scary, but he is a wuss dog, especially with women.  I think it's the OT who isn't good with him, so I have to put him in the office with the gate when she is coming.  

It would be good to know when she is coming.  That way I don't have to be angry that I waited for an hour for her to get here (because Dad said 11:30, when she actually told him 12:30).  Her last day here is Monday.  She'll be making sure he can take a shower by himself so she can sign off on the Home Health Aide's role in the procession.  I will NOT be around, so my puppy will have to hang out in the office.

I will miss the HHA.  She's been great, even when my Dad told her he didn't eat "collyards". "I don't eat 'collyards'.  They're too spicy.  I won't even try them."  Mrs. M. and I then got into a discussion of how she makes collards...that's what people who make them talk about.  

It's a food that everyone has a "secret" recipe for - you don't share everything about how you make collards.  I got lucky.  As a white girl from a primarily Italian Irish background, collards weren't something I ever thought of buying. But Dirk liked them, and so did I.  His Aunt Bev showed me how she made hers one night during a family get together.  I always considered myself so fortunate to have learned that.  Dirk had an Aunt Bev (she was married to his Dad's brother), and so do I (she's married to my Dad's brother).  

No, I am not going to share my greens recipe.  Dirk's mother consistently insisted that I didn't make them until she actually watched me one year prep for Turkey Day.  Then she got a little ticked that Bev shared with me, but not with her...My Casey knows how to make them, but not the other kids.

The R.N. has been good, too.  She's matter of fact, and doesn't coddle him overly much.  She caught his swollen ankles before they got too swollen, got him back on his water pill very fast.

The PT pushes Dad as well, although I think he should be less reliant on the walker.  I don't want him not to use it when we're not here, but we keep catching him walking around with the cane when he thinks no one is watching.  Then he moans and groans about how much he hurts.  

I do have to say he looks JUST like his mother walking around with the walker.  He hunches over it, and we keep telling him it needs to be taller.  He insists it's at the right height.  It makes noises when he's pushing it all around  and he bangs into stuff.  He ran over Dirk's foot last night....

My Mom has been taking all of this nonsense in stride.  She missed her Baldwin Center program 2 of the 3 days last week.  She also lost her patience with Dad.  "What the hell is wrong with him?  Come ON", she says when he's going up or down the stairs.  She tries to help him in when he's getting into bed, but he doesn't want her to touch him.  She then says, "Well the hell with you then", rolls over and goes to sleep.

She got home on Friday from the Baldwin Center, and was so happy to have gone.  "I had a great time today!  Love that group!"  Would love to send her every day. 

 "What did you do, Ma?"  

"I have no idea, but it was fun."

Wouldn't that be nice, if we all had fun, everywhere we went?



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