Meltdown

Walt looked at me warily as if I were a time bomb about to eplode.  Polly needed to be with me, but had that "don't touch me or I'll jump" look she gets when she's terrified.  I was in the middle of a mini-meltdown.  I opened a cupboard and trays fell out, with a loud bang and I slammed them back in the cupboard, then I got my chicken tenders in the oven only to realize I had left out a vital step in the recipe (this was not a Blue Apron meal) and had to remove them and see if I could fix it. Neither thing was all that catastrophic but I had just been at Atria for about an hour and a half and had left with all my emotions on high and was not emotionally prepared for minor kitchen disasters.

After the hour of repetitive conversation with my mother, which always depresses me, we had a major crisis.  When I arrived, her door was ajar, not closed, which surprises me because you have to make an effort to leave it open, since it locks automatically.  

She was worried, as she always is, because there was something she needed to ask me, but couldnt remember what it was.  Then she asked me to check her door because there was something wrong with it.  She said she couldn't get it to close and was afraid someone was going to get angry with her for leaving it open.

I checked the door and it was closed, and told her it seemed fine, which seemed to calm her.  I chalked it up to one of the odd fears she sometimes has.

Toward the end of the visit, I got up to get her laundry to take home and wash and I noticed that her room keys were not on the counter where she keeps them.  I didn't say anything, but started looking around and they were nowhere.  She realized I was looking for something and asked what I was doing.  I told her that her keys were missing.  She immediately got what Walt describes as the "kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar" attitude and told me she knew nothing about it.  She never used the keys. Someone must have put them somewhere.

She helped me look and at one point was standing in the living room saying "I can't even remember which shoes we are looking for."  I am afraid I yelled at her that we weren't looking for shoes, we were looking for keys. She was sitting on the couch with her head in her hands and I felt guilty for letting her know how frustrated I was.

I looked everywhere, but they were nowhere.  I even checked the refrigerator, where Alzheimers patients sometimes put things like keys.  I finally was going to leave her my set of keys when I thought that maybe she had put them in her purse.  Then I couldn't find the purse.  She keeps it in a drawer, but it wasn't there.  I checked all the drawers.  No purse.  I finally checked her closet and in a dark corner the purse was there, as were her keys.  

I took out her checkbook, which I long ago put in her wallet to keep her from losing it (that system has worked well).  In the keys search, I had found her AT&T bill and wrote the check for her to sign, but then found out that the return envelope was not there.  I also went to get the newspaper bill, which I made the mistake of not paying 3 days ago.  It was part of a stack of junk papers that needed to be thrown away but she wouldn't let me touch because she needed to go through it all.  I pulled the bill out and told her NOT to throw that away.  But of course she did.  

The nice thing about dementia is that even when something unpleasant happens, you immediately forget it, so by the time I had written the AT&T check and packed up the laundry to go home, stopping to talk with her about a headline in the newspaper, she had forgotten all the drama of a few minutes ago.  But of course I had not and got into the car still agitated.  I usually take the long way home, listening to my audio book, to decompress, but the battery of my iPod no longer holds a charge and though it had only been played about 30 minutes I had not plugged it in, it was dead, so there went my decompress time.

Which probably explains my mini kitchen meltdown.  Dinner turned out just fine.

This was Thursday and usually my Logos day, but I had accidentally agreed to work at Sutter, so Susan said she'd get someone to cover for me.  (She apparently forgot because Sandy called me at 2:30 to ask if I was coming). 

It was a quiet day at Sutter, not nearly as eventful as when I worked on Monday.  The major trauma was that before I left the house, I couldn't find my Kindle anywhere.  I finally decided that maybe I'd left it at Sutter and, thank goodness I had.  

So when I was not dealing with flowers being delivered (there were three deliveries for the same patient, who had also received flowers yesterday as well!) I was enjoying the last chapters of Bill Bryson's "The Road to Little Dribbling," which I have been reading for awhile.

Nothing like Bill Bryson to lift the spirits!  I've been a fan ever since I found "The Mother Tongue" decades ago and have read almost all of his books.  Years ago, Walt and I were in Cambridge, England and I saw a display in a book store window. The book was Bryson's "Notes from a Small Island," a book he wrote driving around England, where he and his family had lived for many years, for one last look before returning to the US. Walt and I were driving around England and Bryson's book became our most delightful tour guide, as he visited many of the spots where we visited. Bryson is the master of the little known fact about things you never realized. In this new book, he is taking another tour of England to see how it compares with his first book. As in "Notes," this one is chock full of information you didn't realized you wanted to know and things about people you never heard of before. 

I love his stories like trying  to register at a hotel where when asked where he was from and he replied "London" the clerk asked how to spell it.  Then she asked what country.  He said "England" and she asked how to spell that and she told him that her computer didn't recognize "England" (the country in which she lives) as a country.  And after trying Britain, Great Britain, and UK, she finally said that the computer recognized France, so she put in that he was from London, France.

He then lists a number of things you should ask yourself to see if you are truly stupid, one of which was "If you have been to a tanning parlor, do you think that because you cannot see that your eyelids are white, no one else can?"  Hmmm...wonder how he came up with that one...

This book is filled with tales of marvelous vistas, beautiful, walks, quiet beaches, quirky locations, eccentric people, and quaint little towns you have probably never heard of but suddenly desperately want to visit. And who knew that more people are killed in England by cows than by bulls..? Or that a building in Sellafield is "the most hazardous building in Europe" because it is filled with decaying fuel rods from England's nuclear years, when nobody thought ahead about how to safely handle such things.

"Little Dribbling" celebrates the best...and the worst of Bryson's adopted country. It's a great read.  I recommend it to de-stress after a stressful day!

At Loose Ends

I decided to try to post one more entry before I leave for my mother's tonight.

We're starting "confusion week" today. I managed to get out (tho I was waiting for a call from a woman whom I want to interview, but fortunately she didn't call while I was waiting). I picked up the mail that was held while we were in Santa Barbara, which I forgot to get yesterday, and stopped at the supermarket to get baby food. The puppies are on a new medicine and Ashley says they lap it up if it's mixed with the baby food. Anything to help Walt get it done effortlessly while I'm away.

I had a text message from him that he was on the train headed to Burbank, and later that he had a ticket on a flight that would get in around 3 p.m.

Later he called to say that he has a meeting to go to here in town at 4 p.m. I'm still hoping to hear from this woman I need to interview, and also from Jeri, whom I ALSO want to interview for the article I'm writing.

I spent the morning downloading all sorts of stuff that I would use the internet for in writing the article and the two reviews I'll have to write at my mother's.... and hoping that I remembered everything. I can't see flying over the Starbucks just to check a web page! I will be at Starbucks once a day to e-mail what I need to e-mail and to post a journal entry--and hope I can do all that within an hour so I'm not gone too long.

It occurred to me just after noon that I also needed to pack clothes. I have been making arrangements for a multi-day stay as far as all the electronic stuff is concerned, but forgot about the personal stuff! But then I realized I hadn't UNpacked my suitcase from Santa Barbara and had washed everything just before I left, so that took away the need to re-pack the suitcase.

I heard from Walt that his plane would be in around 3 and so I went out to pick him up, getting a call from Jeri on the way home, since I wanted to interview her for the article I'm doing. I asked her to call back in about 10 minutes and we did the interview then.

But there are loose ends that I need to somehow wrap up and I don't know that I can do them in the 3 hrs left before we leave for the theatre. I very much need to get hold of one video and do one interview and I can't seem to do either.

I also very cleverly copied ALL of the files I have on this theatre since 2000 onto my flash drive--and then realized that they are all in WordPerfect format and I'm not sure I will be able to open them on my laptop. I may just toss in ALL of my program disks rather than figure out where the WordPerfect disk is and install it on the laptop.

These are the thoughts ping-ponging around my head at the moment. It's not exactly like I'm going to be gone for a week. i will be home on Sunday to review another show, but then back to San Rafael that night. It's also not like I"m going to outer mongolia. I can call lots of people, I can go to Starbucks for internet access (won't someone PLEASE invent a pay-as-you-go wireless modem plan, like they have in England? By tonight, if possible)

Then Walt just got here and went off to his meeting and I need to show him how to medicate the puppies, since he'll need to do that--or call the SPCA for help with that chore.

Today is ALSO the final day of my second year of taking a photo of myself a day and I wanted to do something memorable for that (along with every thing else). When I ended year 1, I sort of went out with a bang.

So I decided that I would end year #2 with a whimper.

(I'm rather impressed at how genuine this fake crying looks!). Lord knows how I'll decide to end year 3.

I hope you also noticed (I know Ron did!) that in spite of how long it took me to talk about how frazzled I am, I still managed to get a journal entry posted...WITH photos! When you are obsessed, you'll find a way, no matter what!

Frazzled

I used to be able to handle frazzledom much more easily when I was younger. In fact, I thrived on it. Juggling 10 things at once was one of the things I did best. Of course I probably wasn't the most pleasant person to be around at that time, but I don't remember it throwing me for a loop the way this week is.

(Once again, I am SO grateful that my mother doesn't know how to use the internet and relies on me for getting links to journal entries...she will not get this link!)

On the surface it doesn't look all that bad, but I feel like there is a flock of butterflies flitting around in my head at the moment, trying to keep it all straight. I don't know how I could manage without a calendar.

The week started out looking just fine. Walt is going to his sister's Sacramento condo on Tuesday to let guys in with a new refrigerator for her new tenant, who is moving in, and he has tickets to the symphony on Wednesday. This worked out just fine because I'm working on a feature article and will be spending those days at home writing and won't need the car.

I had a show to review on Saturday, but Bri's birthday is Sunday so I did a work-around for that and we figured we'd drive to Santa Barbara on Thursday, I could go shopping for cake supplies with Laurel on Friday, and would be there to work on cake fixings on Saturday. Piece o' (literally) cake.

But then Peach called. She is at my mother's this weekend and apparently my mother got all of her instructions for her surgery next week. She's having to have 2 screws in her ankle removed because it is preventing the skin from healing over the incision. From all the information my mother had given to me, it sounded like a simple in-and-out surgery and I rearranged things to be there with her for the surgery.

But first, Peach had information about a certain type of screw that had been banned in the U.K. because it caused exactly the kind of problems my mother is having and she was wondering if my mother should sue the hospital (I discouraged that since (a) her discomfort has been minor and it has not caused any life-altering problems and (b) a lawsuit is entirely too complicated (and expensive) to contemplate, especially since this is not costing her anything out of pocket anyway.)

But it turns out she has blood work and an EKG on Wednesday. Based on my last trip to the doctor with her, we both realized that she has passed the point where she can go unaccompanied. She just can't remember things and can't find her way around the hospital, so I said I would definitely go with her to that.

BUT, Walt has tickets to the symphony. He can take the train to San Francisco, but there is no train back after the symphony, so I will have to hang around my mother's until 10 or so when I can drive to SF and pick him up. And I have a feature article to turn in the next morning, so I'll have to take my computer with me and work on it while I'm at my mother's (no marathon Canasta sessions, or puzzles to work).

Then her pre-op appointments are on Friday morning and there is no way I can be in Santa Barbara and San Rafael (400 miles apart) at the same time, so I had to let Laurel know that I would not be able to go with her to the store. Walt and I will drive to San Rafael, I'll do the pre-op appointments so I can figure out what's going on (the way Peach reads it, it's much more complicated than my mother has expected it was going to be), and then we will leave from there to go to Santa Barbara, getting there late Friday night, but there in time to do the cake on Saturday (fortunately, the party is Sunday).

If my mother read this, she's be upset because she would feel she was putting me out, but really, I do this because I love her and want to make sure that everything goes right. It's a minor inconvenience and I would not rest if I went off to Santa Barbara leaving her in the hands of someone else, or, worse, by herself, even though she will pish and tush and say she's perfectly capable of doing it alone. She may be, but I just don't want to take any chances. It's too important.

I'm also waiting for calls from two people about the feature article. I only have e-mail addresses for them (they are in high school) and have written twice, but have had no response.

And tomorrow we are going to a memorial service for our friend Alan Harvey, who died a few months ago. I volunteered to bring cookies and didn't make them today because I was doing puppy baths and medication and cuddling. I figured I'd make them tonight. I got the dough started and realized that I have no eggs, so I have to go to the store before I can finish them.

In the middle of it all, I'm trying to put the laundry room back together again. Walt was so terrific and got it all cleaned out, and clean for the water heater guy, but now everything he took out has to be put back in again and I'm trying to go through things piece by piece and get rid of a lot of stuff I will never use again and wash all the things that are going back on the shelves again. Perfect timing, since the SPCA thrift shop is in need of more stuff.

Maybe it's the disorganization of the laundry room that is making me feel so frazzled. I used to be able to juggle Scouts, 4-H, diving team, children's theatre, La Leche League, PTA stuff, and work all at once without going nuts. At least that's the way I remember it. (Perhaps it's like childbirth--we only remember the positive parts), but this all has me just feeling at 6s and 7s. Kind of like this.

I know it's all going to work out all right but I hate it when I can't see it all clearly and know how it's going to work. I just hope that the following week, with the arrangements I'm making for how to be with my mother for her surgery and afterwards...and still get the shows reviewed that I have to review...will be a little less stressful.

(Walt says he never should have retired. It was so easy when he was at the office all day long and came home and was too tired to do anything!)

The one thing that is making this all somewhat easier to deal with is knowing that Ashley is around so at least I don't have to worry about Sheila, Lizzie or the puppies.

In the meantime, I have to go to the store to get an egg.

OOooo. No I don't! Walt was out at the store and came home with eggs. Bless him! The evening is looking up!

Mid-Night Terrors, Part 2

It wasn't a pain in my side that woke me at 4 a.m. this morning, it was suddenly realizing that in just a few days we have to be feeding 120 or so people. I've entered my normal panic phase that it's all going to go badly. That there won't be enough food. That I should have brought the leftovers home from Ned and Marta's the other night.

I tried to go back to sleep, but I kept thinking of vats of clam dip and oceans of potato salad and people standing there with empty plates. I finally got up to check the spreadsheet I had of people who had volunteered to bring food. Most of the people I contacted didn't answer. The few who did were generous with their offers to share food, but it won't be enough, of course. Thank goodness Costco is practically in Alice Nan's back yard.

Tom's doing most of the work on the main course and I'm organizing the side dishes. It will go OK. I know it will go OK. But I just need to panic a bit first. I'll feel better once I get down there.

I had put off going to the cake store for the few things I need to decorate the wedding cake. I wanted to get the shower behind us before I started thinking about the wedding itself. So this morning I was going to drive down to get all the stuff I need.

Before I left the house, I checked the web site to double-check on their hours of operation and learned that they are closed on Monday.

But...no problem. There is a big cake store where I used to shop all the time when I was doing cake decorating more often. I didn't want to drive that far, but owell, it's not that far--only to Sacramento.

But...they are closed on Mondays too! Doh!

I did some internet searching and found a place in Santa Barbara that sounds like it has what I wanted to get, so I've bookmarked that and will go there on Wednesday morning. I hope they are open on Wednesdays.

I also started worrying about Jeri's flowers. In a flush of "oh wouldn't that be sweet" a couple of weeks ago, I asked my mother if she would like to make a bouquet for Jeri to carry, since my mother is the flower person. Only at 4 a.m., I realized that she is driving down on Friday, and won't get there till Friday night and the wedding is Saturday around noon. Will there be time to find flowers and make a bouquet? I don't want to put pressure on her. I just thought she might like to do it, but now I'm concerned that it will be too much of a hassle. What to do? What to do?

There was also the gift that Jeri and Phil wanted to give the guests. It would take some searching on Jeri's part and some fiddling on my part and would there be enough time to do it all? Then I remembered that it was something that could be done in Santa Barbara and didn't have to be finished before we leave Davis.

Finally there is the issue of the dogs.

Our next door neighbor is having his fence replaced. We are paying for half of our side of his yard and were upset to learn that the plan was for it to be done while we were in Santa Barbara. We weren't sure what we were going to do, since Ashley will be here, but we didn't want to saddle her with the problem of the dogs and workmen and a missing fence!

Then Walt talked with the workmen and they decided to do the fence on the other side of our neighbors' house first, and do our fence after we get home. But the fence will be completely gone and there will be jackhammers involved, so obviously the dogs need to go somewhere.

No problem. I'd just call our Davis dogsitters, Kathy and Miguel, who took care of them two weeks ago. The dogs love being there, they seem to love having them, and the cost is reasonable.

But Ashley said she heard a rumor that Kathy and Miguel had moved out of Davis. No! They couldn't do that, could they? Kathy had just given me her new cell phone number not two weeks ago. But when I called the number, it had been disconnected, as had their house number.

Well...that was a disappointment, but I could always take the dogs to the kennel where we've had them boarded before. I checked their web site to get the phone number and learned that they are closed because they are moving and won't be open until late 2008.

Swell. Now what? I called our vet, who gave me a recommendation of a place out in the country somewhere. I called and left a message, but so far nobody has called me back. Ashley also says she may know some people. But at the moment, the question about where the dogs are going to go is up in the air.

Something to wake me up at 4 a.m. tomorrow, I guess.

Under the Gun

My plan yesterday was to drive to the cake decorating store in Sacramento to get supplies for Ellen & Shelly's wedding cake, which I'm making for their reception on Saturday. But it was hot. Very hot. And gas is now $4.70 a gallon and I started thinking about what I really needed and did I have to drive all the way into Sacramento to get supplies. I decided that I'd find a work around, and get most of the baking supplies at the supermarket. The problem is the boards that the cakes go on, but I'm hoping to throw myself on the mercy of the local bakery and hope that they will sell me boards.

So the plan was to clean off the kitchen counter (a major undertaking) before I went to sleep last night, but dammit, I decided to read "just a little" of the book I was reading, Tess Gerritsen's "Vanish," the fourth book in her Jane Rizzoli / Maura Iles series.

At about 2:30 a.m., I simply HAD to put the book down or I'd never get any sleep.

I slept until 6:30, got up, sat back in my chair, picked up the book and, except for feeding the dogs, I didn't move until about 9, when I finally finished it. It was definitely the most gripping of her books that I have read.

But that meant I didn't go shopping, and I hadn't cleaned off the kitchen counter yet.

Life is complicated further by the fact that the dishwasher died before Walt went to Boston and there was no time to go dishwasher shopping before he left for Santa Barbara, which ordinarily wouldn't be more than a minor inconvenience, but I'm going to be doing heavy-duty bowl/pan dirtying between now and Friday night. Also, our garbage disposal apparently communed with the dishwasher and realized that Walt is out of town, so it has stopped working. I reset it so that the motor will turn on, and give me a nice hum--but the blades don't work. There is stuff in it, and I've cleaned out as much as I can but whatever is left is causing the water to drain slower than usual.

Needless to say, my enthusiasm for doing this cake was rapidly diminishing!!! Especially when I discovered Lizzie licking off the remains left on my dinner plate last night and I realized that there was NOWHERE I could put the cake layers as I finished them that would be doggie-safe--so I must also clean out the freezer in the garage before I finish frosting the first layer.

I'm trying to remember when Pa went off with the kids and left Ma at home alone for a couple of days on Little House on the Prairie. She got an infection on her leg and was about to cut her own leg off with a kitchen knife when the doctor arrived in time to save her. Compared to that, a couple of broken appliances don't seem all that bad.

I did take time out to watch the Tim Russert memorial, which was very moving. I only used half a box of Kleenex.

Then I rushed the dogs off to the dog park, stopped by the supermarket to get supplies (the kitchen counter finally having been cleaned, all the dishes washed, dried, and put away, awaiting all those bowls that I will accumulate making the cake).

I should also mention, in passing, that not only does the dishwasher not work and the garbage disposal not work, but the light has gone out over my recliner. This is not a simple matter of just changing the lightbulb. It's a theatrical light and has to be purchased at a theatrical supply place in Sacramento and, knowing myself all too well, I would not trust me to put the light into the socket or I'll end up killing myself by falling off the ladder.

AND, my DVR is over 50% full of news reports about Ellen & Shelly, who have asked me to make copies for them. I can't clear the programs off because my DVR is not set up for me to record from TV to DVD. I could probably figure out how to do that myself, but just haven't had time because I've been cleaning off the kitchen counter so I can make the wedding cake. But suffice to say, I can't record much on my DVR until I can get the damn news programs off (I think there are about 8 of them--and you can't record just 5 minutes; if you set up the recorder, it records the entire program!)

Finally, the family in Santa Barbara was waiting for the results of a sputum test that they gave Walt's mother a day or so ago. She has MRSA (Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus), a common infection in hospital patients and highly contageous, which is why she's been kept in isolation and why everyone has to gown up to visit her. She can't leave isolation until the infection is cured, when they can move her to regular intensive care, and then, hopefully, to a convalescent hospital.

But, the test came back positive, so they have to continue to treat her for MRSA before she can move. Walt plans to stay in Santa Barbara until they can move her into the convalescent home.

This means that I will probably be driving to Mendocino on Sunday to scatter Michele's ashes by myself. Everyone else is going on Saturday, but I have to stay here to attend Peach & Bob's 50th anniversary and Ellen & Shelly's wedding reception.

I haven't been up to the property in Mendocino in about 20 years. It's just a small road off another small road and you can easily miss it unless you know what you're looking for and I'm convinced I will never find it. And cell phone reception is not good there so I won't even be able to call to let people know if I get lost.

This is not turning out to be the best week ever. But it's a better week than Tim Russert's family is having, and a better week than Walt's mother and my mother are having, a better week than Walt, his sister and brother are having, so I guess I won't complain.

At least I don't have to chop off my leg with the kitchen knife.

Yet.

The Weekend

We don't have a lot going on this weekend, at least no more than usual, but I am in a state of discombobulation this week. I don't know why, except it probably has something to do with being off-kilter because of Michele's death.

Peggy said she didn't understand why this death has thrown me for such a loop because she was under the impression that Michele and I weren't all that close.

She's right. We have really not had much to do with each other in several years, not for any particular reason, but just "life," I guess, for several years. We've both been busy, she didn't do e-mail all that much. Walt and I have been saying we were going to drive up to their place and visit, but never did. So why has this been such a huge passing for me?

I've been thinking a lot about that lately. I think it is partly because this is the second death in our Pinata group. It was Bill last year and Michele this year--and who will it be next year? Me?

Or maybe it's this shitty year and wondering what else can go wrong. Jan-Feb was devoted to my mother's accident; Feb-March was devoted to Walt's mother's various hospitalizations. We have had five deaths within The Lamplighters community, two of whom we knew very well and considered friends. My cousin Kathy had a mini stroke. Peach's husband Bob was in the hospital for several days with a serious infection (these two events forced cancellation of our trip to D.C. together next year). My mother's best friend had two surgeries and was very ill. My computer broke down. Twice. The bathroom flooded. And as I write this, our computer network appears to be out. Other tragedies have happened to friends as well. And then there is the mess in Washington. I won't even go there!

So maybe that's why this is upsetting me so much. Maybe it's one more straw on the camel's back.

A weekend like this wouldn't normally seem so overwhelming, but somehow the logistics of it all have my head spinning. It starts simply enough. We go to see (and review) Brigadoon on Friday. I must remember to get the review written that night even though it's not due until Tuesday morning, actually, but it may be the only chance I'll have to write it.

Saturday afternoon we go to a memorial service for Dario Montoya. I didn't personally know Dario (Walt did), but he was the 15 year partner of Roger Pierson, a casual friend from The Lamplighters. Roger is holding a memorial at their apartment out near the ocean beach in San Francisco.

Saturday night is opening night for Zero Hour, Jim Brochu's award-winning one-man show about Zero Mostel. I complained to Steve that tickets were too expensive and I wondered if there was a "friend rate." His response: "You don't have to pay, idiot!" So we have complimentary tickets to the show and champagne reception following.

Sunday we are meeting Tom in the Bay Area. He is flying up for Michele's memorial. We will spend the night at my mother's in San Rafael. Should be interesting, as Peach and Bob will be there too. One big slumber party!

On Monday morning we go back to Oakland, pick Jeri up (she flies in at 11 p.m. Sunday and will stay with a friend that night) for the memorial, following which we get Tom to BART so he can get to the SF airport to fly to New York. We take Jeri to my mother's to spend the night. I have to drive Walt home and turn around and come back the next day with my cousin Kathy for Cousins' Day, during which time I will drive Jeri back to Oakland to catch BART to the airport for her flight back to Boston.

And in the middle of all this I'm still trying to write on my NaNoWriMo novel and post a video a day to NaVloPoMo. I also agreed to write a blog post a day, which is really cheating since I'd do it anyway.

However, in the midst of all this there are little gems which make it all worthwhile. I got my article about the upcoming production of Noises Off to my editor, who wrote back, saying:

"Another VERY nice piece. Man, I wish you did all my Spotlight cover stories. What a delight. :-)"

Now THAT really made my day!