This week has been a series of ups and downs. It started with a vow to only say loving things in a calm and quiet, encouraging way. It didn't take me long to lose it the first time or the second, but there were some minor victories too.
We took Maxine to physical therapy twice this week. After the first visit, Wednesday, in which she was extraordinarily subdued, the therapist suggested strongly that we buy her some good walking shoes. It worked like a miracle. Almost from the first minute she had them on she was walking much more heel toe instead of just on her toes like she has been doing. She has just been wearing bedroom slippers since her accident last year. It makes me wonder why none of her California therapist or doctors had the same brilliant idea.
We got home from PT, just in time to make them some lunch and make an appointment at the new house at 2:00 to sort of think about furnishings, like what things will work and what things won't. We took Floyd because I thought he would love to get out of the house. I tried to find someone to sit with Max but no luck so we left her sitting in the recliner, she was sleeping when we left. I wasn't aware, I guess, that this made Floyd nervous and about as soon as we walked around the house one time he was ready to go. I sort of stalled him for awhile and that was a mistake because he started talking about us bringing his pink leather couches to put in the living room. Noooo! Ron describes them as corpulent flesh that would envelope you when you sit in them. Since he said that, I can only describe their color as flesh, not pink, not tan, just flesh. They are just ugly! (in my opinion)
After that great idea he walked into the lovely office space in just off the front door and said, "what is this room for". I suggested an office or study. He said, "I supposed we could put the fold out couch in here in case someone wanted to stay over. Wow! By then he was tired and really nervous so we left, no measurements taken, no solid ideas. Just a ride home with more bad ideas. I started to inwardly panic about the weirdest looking collection of bad furniture in the world in that pretty new house. These situations are bad for me because I alternate between, "it is his house and it shouldn't matter to me", to. "why am I worried about it anyway?", to "I don't want to have weird stuff in my house at age 61", to "Why am I so proud that it matters?" It is still a struggle. Mostly I am trying to remember that it is their house and I am just going to live in the basement. It is such a pretty house though. . . .
After that I ran to Costco and Big 5. Costco for some groceries for my mom and dad and Big 5 to buy the new shoes for Maxine.
That accomplished I went to my parents house to deliver the groceries and found them both peering into the refrigerator. Unusual. Usually they are both sleeping on the couch in the afternoon. But not that day. They were both digging around in the fridge. I said hi and "what's up". Note the self control, "not waht in the heck are you doing?" Mom said something like, "Look at all this food." I said are you looking for something? Mom said no but "look at all this food, will you help us eat it?" I asked if they were hungry as I had dropped off some beef stew earlier in the day and asked Ana to fix it for lunch, she had sent a text to say that they loved it and they ate it all. It was pretty hearty so I was sort of surprised that they would be hungry. Mom then said that dad was and they were looking for something for him. But she was pretty preoccupied that their was so much food in the fridge and that the Clarks had dropped off a bunch of stuff and "wasn't that nice of them" and why do they do that do you think?" Well I got my groceries put away and we fixed a snack of fruit and cheese and a glass of root beer and got them settled back on the couch. I was thinking about dinner and what I was going to make and that I needed to go make it and that Rodger was going to the church that night and so I would get to do bedtime and I sort of got myself all ramped up.
I was home slamming things around when Rodger came around the corner. I thought he would have left already but he didn't because I wasn't there and when he noticed the state I was in he said he would just stay home and I said go and he said no and that made things worse. He was supposed to meet the missionaries and Br. Kurt Nichol for a discussion and I felt terrible to let my frustration interrupt that. He finally left and I made dinner. He came home, we ate, I cleaned up, he left and I stayed out of the way for awhile.
Maxine was fast asleep in the chair when Floyd started getting ready for bed so I had to wake her to say, "lets get ready for bed"
"No, I don't want to go to bed" she said
"you are just sleeping in the chair, you would be more comfortable in bed" I offered
"No! I don't want to go with you"
"Floyd is waiting for you in bed" I coax
"Floyd doesn't even like me" she says
"Sure he does" I say as a begin to lift her up and we toddle off towards the bedroom. She started veering towards another chair.
"I am going to sit in this chair"
"No you are going to the bathroom and brush your teeth and get your nightgown on" I redirect the walker.
" I am not sitting on that toilet"
"Yes, Yes you are"
"It is too far down"
"No, you have done it many times already"
You get the idea. The other day at the doctor, After the doctor had listened to a different but similarly frustrating exchange she said. "You know it might seem rude, but you don't have to answer her. You can see that it doesn't make a difference if you do or if you don't"
We it does seem rude to me and I did decide to try and act with more love and kindness after the conference broadcast last Saturday so I still answer. But we don't get very far. Finally though the bathroom duty was done, the nightgown on, the teeth brushed, and she still protesting was in bed. One of her favorites is, "Jeanne, why are you doing this to me?" Sigh of relief, and we're done for another day.
Thursday, work was looking like a vacation, and Friday and Saturday. I have a whole new perspective on working. At least my patients there do not come home with me. No matter how rude or uncooperative or whining or abusive, they are just temporary.
I did have an interesting exchange with a cancer patient on Friday night. I was breaking her nurse who reported that she was mean and really grumpy, so grumpy that her daughter had gotten out of there as fast as possible. I went in to check on her fluids because I was supposed to hang another bag. The first, I discovered was still full, the tubing still clamped. (great nursing) So, as I unclamped it and hung a second, I talked to her. She wanted to know what I was doing (valid) and what was going on with her case (valid) she did sound grumpy. She was cold, I brought her some warm blankets and tried to raise some small pleasant talk. Then she says out of the blue. "do you ever meet people who are nice here?" She apologized for being gruff and said that she was just sick and scared and that made her more defensive. It gave me insight and awareness. Maybe Maxine is scared and just doesn't know how to say it. Maybe that is why she is rude and defensive.
Yesterday was conference. I put it on at my parent's and listened before work and on my way and at lunch the talks were great. Elder Hales talked about becoming a disciple. He used Paul's teaching about adding to temperance, kindness and to kindness virtue and to virtue brother love. . . I am paraphrasing of course, but he spoke about each attribute and how incorporating these successive attributes would not only bring us closer to Christ but make us more like him.
It was with this thought that I began "shower day" with Maxine. She really has a thing about showers. Just about every time she sees the shower she exclaims loudly, "I am not getting in the shower". It was no different on Sunday morning. When she protested I tried to say with kindness, that yes we were going to have a shower. She asked repeatedly why I was doing this to her. I explained that after a shower she would feel so much better and that her hair would be shiny and clean and that she would smell good. The protests and assurances went on through the shower and the drying and the dressing. I was holding it together pretty well until. . . I was down on the floor putting on her shoes. She doesn't help too much like a little kid who doesn't really want the shoes on. As I was tying the second one she said. "There is Jeanne with her boobs hanging out" I said they weren't but then I looked down, probably from her perspective and yes, she probably could see right into my jammie top. I took a breath, thought about love a bit, and gritted my teeth a bit. I said that indeed, I had not dressed myself yet, or combed my hair or taken a shower or anything quite yet because I was helping her. It is good that you can't see gritted teeth and hear my clipped explanation while reading. I wasn't perfect for sure.
We did have a Sunday miracle again though. About the time my parents came over she sort of picked up and when they walked in she said "Well hello Lucy, how are you guys doing, so nice to see you". She was pleasant most of the way through dinner and in spite of declaring that she couldn't eat that food, she picked at her plate until the vegetables were gone and some of the potatoes and some of the fruit. She even ate some ice cream. It got a bit weird about then, "Floyd" she says, "I am eating ice cream". Nothing. "Floyd, I am eating ice cream, is that okay?" "yes" he says. She got a little more withdrawn after that. The parents visited for awhile while I did the dishes. They seem to enjoy themselves which is pretty funny because three of them don't hear well and my dad who does hear does not follow conversations well. He did laugh at some funny stories and that was nice to hear.
All and all things ended a bit better than they started. No major blow outs, no major disasters. The house sales are both progressing. We are starting to make some plans for moving.
I will carry on, listening to conference and progressing, watching hopefully until that perfect day.
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