Saturday, September 25, 2004
...and then a nuclear blast cloud mushroomed on the horizon...
...and everyone in the car (me as driver, MPS & BIL, Odo from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine in his Bajoran security uniform and some other character from the Star Trek multi-series whom I didn't recognize in an equally unrecognizable uniform) blurted their version of, "Oh, shit."
That is the dream from which I awoke this morning. As I recall from the dream, those of us in the car were not expecting the nuclear blast. We were all proceeding somewhere benign from an equally benign seminar held in a large auditorium in the Phoenix metroplex sponsored by social workers and featuring the explanation of the contents of a book that was about something having to do with creating some sort of kinder, gentler world by starting in one's home and community. As we drove from the seminar to a place I cannot recall none of us was expecting, nor had reason to expect, that we'd witness the beginning of the nuclear destruction of the United States. I do remember that we were being passed on the streets by impossibly large semis constructed to transport impossibly large objects along normal streets and freeways, all of which were carrying impossibly large parts of military planes: Pieces of fuselage, wings and tail.
This is not to say that the consolidation is going badly. It's going well. Today we should be able to complete packing out. The shed is the only room left to tackle. The house has only a few hanging and bathroom items left to collect, most of which will be thrown away.
Over the last 3 days the The Big Girl has become increasingly ill. It took me a day to figure out that she was suffering from something that wouldn't "go away". I took her into the vet yesterday. She has a serious upper respiratory infection, was severely dehydrated, thus is spending yesterday evening through Sunday morning in their hospital being fed IV fluids, antibiotics and being nursed back to relative health. I say relative because she also exhibits something else curious: Her liver is so enlarged that it has pushed her stomach out of the way. The condition and the cause is a mystery to our very fine veterinarian but is probably unrelated to the respiratory infection expect that the condition no doubt weakened her immune system to the point where she was unable to fight off the agents carrying the infection.
I consider us lucky that The Big Girl's illness happened at this time, as the money from the sale of the house should be just enough to cover the vet bills. Although the sale was negotiated for significantly more than a buck the amount is also significantly less than that which grungiest of houses would bring.
Mom is doing well. The Little Girl is doing well. Although I'm probably running on empty again it's hard for me to tell, as I am keyed so high I don't believe there is an instrument that has the ability to produce the notes I'm playing. I continue to be refreshed by an undercurrent of pure relief over the consolidation.
For those of you who have been wondering about the quality of the final push, it is strong and hardy. The mover's pick up date was pushed to Monday afternoon of next week which was fine with me since I discovered that packing out is happening more slowly with Mom there than I anticipated. We'll be ready. By Thursday we'll be a one home family. Again. Thank the gods.
Time to awaken Mom. I have no idea when I'll have the time to report again before the sale is complete. Assume, please, that no news is good news.
That is the dream from which I awoke this morning. As I recall from the dream, those of us in the car were not expecting the nuclear blast. We were all proceeding somewhere benign from an equally benign seminar held in a large auditorium in the Phoenix metroplex sponsored by social workers and featuring the explanation of the contents of a book that was about something having to do with creating some sort of kinder, gentler world by starting in one's home and community. As we drove from the seminar to a place I cannot recall none of us was expecting, nor had reason to expect, that we'd witness the beginning of the nuclear destruction of the United States. I do remember that we were being passed on the streets by impossibly large semis constructed to transport impossibly large objects along normal streets and freeways, all of which were carrying impossibly large parts of military planes: Pieces of fuselage, wings and tail.
This is not to say that the consolidation is going badly. It's going well. Today we should be able to complete packing out. The shed is the only room left to tackle. The house has only a few hanging and bathroom items left to collect, most of which will be thrown away.
Over the last 3 days the The Big Girl has become increasingly ill. It took me a day to figure out that she was suffering from something that wouldn't "go away". I took her into the vet yesterday. She has a serious upper respiratory infection, was severely dehydrated, thus is spending yesterday evening through Sunday morning in their hospital being fed IV fluids, antibiotics and being nursed back to relative health. I say relative because she also exhibits something else curious: Her liver is so enlarged that it has pushed her stomach out of the way. The condition and the cause is a mystery to our very fine veterinarian but is probably unrelated to the respiratory infection expect that the condition no doubt weakened her immune system to the point where she was unable to fight off the agents carrying the infection.
I consider us lucky that The Big Girl's illness happened at this time, as the money from the sale of the house should be just enough to cover the vet bills. Although the sale was negotiated for significantly more than a buck the amount is also significantly less than that which grungiest of houses would bring.
Mom is doing well. The Little Girl is doing well. Although I'm probably running on empty again it's hard for me to tell, as I am keyed so high I don't believe there is an instrument that has the ability to produce the notes I'm playing. I continue to be refreshed by an undercurrent of pure relief over the consolidation.
For those of you who have been wondering about the quality of the final push, it is strong and hardy. The mover's pick up date was pushed to Monday afternoon of next week which was fine with me since I discovered that packing out is happening more slowly with Mom there than I anticipated. We'll be ready. By Thursday we'll be a one home family. Again. Thank the gods.
Time to awaken Mom. I have no idea when I'll have the time to report again before the sale is complete. Assume, please, that no news is good news.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
Yes, we went down yesterday, yes, we'll be going down tomorrow.
Today is Mom's Recovery Day and my Close Out Yesterday, Do Today and Get Ready for Tomorrow Day. These in between days are my heaviest days and I still don't get everything done. There is much not involved in the consolidation of homes that is waiting in the wings until after the consolidation is completed.
I've got a stat from yesterday, stats from today and an exercise session from the day before to post. I may end up serving stat ketchup again. I'm considering putting Mom through an exercise session today just to give her an edge tomorrow but haven't decided absolutely if this is a good idea. So far her day has been an eat and nap day. I believe it's possible that Mom's BP is running high because of her confusion and occasional forgetfulness about the move, as well as the frequent altitude changes. I think, underneath it all, this is a bit traumatic for her. I remember once several years ago during a different traumatic event that her blood pressure ran high for a while. Since she appears to remain healthy, no UTIs, no minor illnesses or major problems, I think her BP is reflecting her concern over the consolidation of homes and the loss of a home that has been her most permanent home, well, goodness, throughout her entire life. On occasion, thankfully, her spirit of adventure kicks in and she rubs her hands together and asks, "What's next?" with a glee that allows me to know that, if this isn't exactly "the right thing", it is, at least, not "the wrong thing". It's a circumstance, one to which both of us will not only adjust but, in the long run, consider felicitous.
It became apparent to me yesterday that if I was able to simply do all this consolidation stuff myself it would happen faster. Mom loves the idea of helping. I like the idea of allowing her to feel helpful. When she's helpful now it makes more work for me. In this episode of our lives, though, it is very important that Mom be kept as involved as I can keep and allow her since she has such strong feelings about the consolidation, both positive and negative. I want to provide as many resources as possible for her that will allow her to come to her own terms with what's going on.
Yesterday, in the middle of sorting and packing, she sat down and began an informal inventory of the memories and connections attached to the Mesa house. We spent a good 45 minutes just talking. At one point I became so overwhelmed that I began weeping and apologized to her for making the decision to divest ourselves of that home. I simultaneously reiterated that since I now handle all her business as well as her personal life and, as well, keeping that house also keeps us financially strapped, I still feel as though what we're doing is absolutely necessary. I told her that if I could have thought of a way for us to keep both homes and tax neither her finances nor me I would have jumped at the chance. she understands this. She also understands that keeping that house instead of this would be incredibly stupid financially, so stupid that it would negate any emotional advantage. I'm heartened that when we are here she pretty much forgets about the Mesa home and extols the virtues of this one.
I doubt that I'll post much more today. It's late afternoon and I still have much to accomplish before tomorrow, another pack-out day in the Valley. For those of you who know us, know that the consolidation is going well, the last details fell into place yesterday, my relief over what is happening continues to grow, my energy level is high, Mom's confusion isn't too bad, certainly not so bad that I question the wisdom of this decision and both of us are looking forward to the end of next week.
I've got a stat from yesterday, stats from today and an exercise session from the day before to post. I may end up serving stat ketchup again. I'm considering putting Mom through an exercise session today just to give her an edge tomorrow but haven't decided absolutely if this is a good idea. So far her day has been an eat and nap day. I believe it's possible that Mom's BP is running high because of her confusion and occasional forgetfulness about the move, as well as the frequent altitude changes. I think, underneath it all, this is a bit traumatic for her. I remember once several years ago during a different traumatic event that her blood pressure ran high for a while. Since she appears to remain healthy, no UTIs, no minor illnesses or major problems, I think her BP is reflecting her concern over the consolidation of homes and the loss of a home that has been her most permanent home, well, goodness, throughout her entire life. On occasion, thankfully, her spirit of adventure kicks in and she rubs her hands together and asks, "What's next?" with a glee that allows me to know that, if this isn't exactly "the right thing", it is, at least, not "the wrong thing". It's a circumstance, one to which both of us will not only adjust but, in the long run, consider felicitous.
It became apparent to me yesterday that if I was able to simply do all this consolidation stuff myself it would happen faster. Mom loves the idea of helping. I like the idea of allowing her to feel helpful. When she's helpful now it makes more work for me. In this episode of our lives, though, it is very important that Mom be kept as involved as I can keep and allow her since she has such strong feelings about the consolidation, both positive and negative. I want to provide as many resources as possible for her that will allow her to come to her own terms with what's going on.
Yesterday, in the middle of sorting and packing, she sat down and began an informal inventory of the memories and connections attached to the Mesa house. We spent a good 45 minutes just talking. At one point I became so overwhelmed that I began weeping and apologized to her for making the decision to divest ourselves of that home. I simultaneously reiterated that since I now handle all her business as well as her personal life and, as well, keeping that house also keeps us financially strapped, I still feel as though what we're doing is absolutely necessary. I told her that if I could have thought of a way for us to keep both homes and tax neither her finances nor me I would have jumped at the chance. she understands this. She also understands that keeping that house instead of this would be incredibly stupid financially, so stupid that it would negate any emotional advantage. I'm heartened that when we are here she pretty much forgets about the Mesa home and extols the virtues of this one.
I doubt that I'll post much more today. It's late afternoon and I still have much to accomplish before tomorrow, another pack-out day in the Valley. For those of you who know us, know that the consolidation is going well, the last details fell into place yesterday, my relief over what is happening continues to grow, my energy level is high, Mom's confusion isn't too bad, certainly not so bad that I question the wisdom of this decision and both of us are looking forward to the end of next week.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
"The Adventure" of our household consolidation...
...is beginning to grip my mother. Yesterday evening immediately after I had settled on a date for pickup/delivery of our goods with the moving company I explained to her our entire schedule up through Saturday morning, the time of our goods' delivery here in Prescott. Although she likes the stimulation of going back and forth between what are, at this moment, our two homes, she likes the opportunity to eat at restaurants or decide what type of fast food to buy, she likes watching me work through packing (she's always liked the excitement of moving), she does not like the stiffness from the car rides, the inconvenience of not having a place to lie down or a television to watch and the inevitable plugging of her ears as we switch elevations quickly and twice in a day. As I was telling her that we'd be making day trips today, Thursday and Friday, I was surprised by the incipient excitement in her response to my schedule rundown for this week, "It's possible we'll need to go down Wednesday, too."
"Well, yes, that's possible, but I'm hoping we'll have a day to recover between the first trip and the others."
"You don't need to do that for me."
I laughed. "Well, good. We might need to do it for me, though. I might need tomorrow to relax and contemplate where we are."
"We need to be sure to get everything done," she protested.
"Believe me, we'll get everything done, Mom. One way or another we will no longer own the Mesa home as of October 1st."
"So, when do you think we can start going through boxes?"
Wow. She does love the activity of moving, whether or not it involves an actual move. I've been anticipating that all of this, especially now that the crunch has begun, is going to be hard on her. I'm now thinking that it will be harder on me than on her. This is good. Her enthusiasm gives me a standard for which to reach.
Yes, we'll be on our way down in about two hours. It'll be a long day. I don't anticipate us returning tonight until 2200 or later. Tomorrow we'll rest and recalculate and repeat today on Thursday. Friday we'll head down to the Valley in the middle of the day, supervise the movers as they load our stuff and Saturday morning they'll deliver. It's happening. And Mom's into it. I couldn't ask for more.
We did endure a short episode late yesterday evening in which her brain had dumped everything about the move and it was all perplexing news to her. Her brain kicked back in later, though, so I'm not worried.
Needless to say, I don't expect to be taking many stats today or Thursday and probably not Friday. If we have an exercise session it will be tomorrow then not again until Saturday at the earliest, possibly later if I can't keep my mother's hands out of the boxes of stuff we'll be having delivered.
I'll keep you posted on how it goes but I expect nothing but, well, the adventure my mother's anticipating.
Time to get her up. On days when we have plans such as this it's easy to get her up and going. Off we go, into my mother's "wild blue yonder".
"Well, yes, that's possible, but I'm hoping we'll have a day to recover between the first trip and the others."
"You don't need to do that for me."
I laughed. "Well, good. We might need to do it for me, though. I might need tomorrow to relax and contemplate where we are."
"We need to be sure to get everything done," she protested.
"Believe me, we'll get everything done, Mom. One way or another we will no longer own the Mesa home as of October 1st."
"So, when do you think we can start going through boxes?"
Wow. She does love the activity of moving, whether or not it involves an actual move. I've been anticipating that all of this, especially now that the crunch has begun, is going to be hard on her. I'm now thinking that it will be harder on me than on her. This is good. Her enthusiasm gives me a standard for which to reach.
Yes, we'll be on our way down in about two hours. It'll be a long day. I don't anticipate us returning tonight until 2200 or later. Tomorrow we'll rest and recalculate and repeat today on Thursday. Friday we'll head down to the Valley in the middle of the day, supervise the movers as they load our stuff and Saturday morning they'll deliver. It's happening. And Mom's into it. I couldn't ask for more.
We did endure a short episode late yesterday evening in which her brain had dumped everything about the move and it was all perplexing news to her. Her brain kicked back in later, though, so I'm not worried.
Needless to say, I don't expect to be taking many stats today or Thursday and probably not Friday. If we have an exercise session it will be tomorrow then not again until Saturday at the earliest, possibly later if I can't keep my mother's hands out of the boxes of stuff we'll be having delivered.
I'll keep you posted on how it goes but I expect nothing but, well, the adventure my mother's anticipating.
Time to get her up. On days when we have plans such as this it's easy to get her up and going. Off we go, into my mother's "wild blue yonder".
Monday, September 20, 2004
We are not in Mesa, again, today.
I awoke in the middle of the night having an anxiety attack over what to do with the stuff we need to dump but that I can't transport by myself. I decided that I would devote the morning to figuring out how to get rid of it. I'd assumed that there would be some sort of charity in the Phoenix metroplex that has a repair workshop for such items. I believe one used to exist but I had no luck finding it. I also thought it would be really easy to find someone to help me transport this stuff to the dump since it seems this will now be necessary. No such luck. Everyone casual is bound up with duties. Much to my surprise, there is only one professional in the area who does this, the City. It took me awhile to discover this as it's not something that is advertised and I recall, during previous moves, the most recent one in 1997 when we moved half our stuff to this house, calling the City and being told that they do not provide this service; they provide the dump but not the transportation. Well, apparently they do now provide pick-up and transport for a reasonable fee. It took me most of the morning (around getting my mother up and moving) to discover this. I'm definitely relieved.
Other than this it's a quiet day. We've had an exercise session which I've not entered. There are stats for breakfast but not for lunch since Mom ate very light, snacked, really, so I forgot to do stats. I tend to do that when preparations aren't labor intensive. I'll post all stats and sessions later, probably late tonight.
Later today we'll know when the movers can schedule themselves. It will probably be this weekend, thank the gods. "We don't usually do this," the rep said, "but considering what's involved it would be to our advantage to do it on a weekend." Good. It would be to our advantage, too.
Until September 30 I expect I'll be hanging out in move mode, which tends to turn my attention away from deep thought about Mom & Me. Probably just as well. I could use a vacation, even as I relish my ability to consider our situation at a deep level.
Not sure when, but later.
Other than this it's a quiet day. We've had an exercise session which I've not entered. There are stats for breakfast but not for lunch since Mom ate very light, snacked, really, so I forgot to do stats. I tend to do that when preparations aren't labor intensive. I'll post all stats and sessions later, probably late tonight.
Later today we'll know when the movers can schedule themselves. It will probably be this weekend, thank the gods. "We don't usually do this," the rep said, "but considering what's involved it would be to our advantage to do it on a weekend." Good. It would be to our advantage, too.
Until September 30 I expect I'll be hanging out in move mode, which tends to turn my attention away from deep thought about Mom & Me. Probably just as well. I could use a vacation, even as I relish my ability to consider our situation at a deep level.
Not sure when, but later.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
We didn't make it down the mountain, today.
It rained and blew all night, rained and blew all morning. It's blowing now and threatening more rain. Although I was more than up for the trip Mom was not and I understand her discomfort with traveling in wet weather. So she's doing what she loves to do during rainy days, nap. I'm doing what I love to do on rainy days, absorbing the atmosphere, drinking an especially decadent cup of the hot cocoa I talked about in my first post for my food-and-Mom-and-me-I-guess journal and settling down to watch Kenneth Branagh's 1995 movie production of Othello with Laurence Fishburne. I consider myself lucky that it's on today. I've been wanting to see it for awhile and this is the perfect day for it. The cocoa is perfectly for this afternoon; made with Millstone's Chocolate Velvet Coffee and generous splashes of Raspberry di Amore and Chambord liqueurs. I'm set. My mother's set. Relax today, act tomorrow.
Later.
Later.
