Tough week

Nana Vel has been in the hospital all week and I've been back and forth every day to check on her. Every day I think she is going to be released, but it hasn't happened yet. I am taking her to a nursing home to recouperate until she can go back to her apartment, but I don't think she can live independetly much longer. It is really stressful to even think about the cost and stress of finding a new place for her with assistance. I don't even know where to begin or if she'll even want to do it.

I have to mention that the whole time in the hospital she has been setting her hair with three rollers. She told me today that she wanted to be ready to go to the nursing home and look decent. If you could only see her in a hospital bed, hospital gown, oxygen tube in, and two curlers on the sides of her head and one on the top. Then she tells me that she has been stashing the ensure that she is not drinking with her meals and putting them in with her clothes, also bags of potato chips for the kids. So, every day I have to "conceal" these goods she is saving and sneak them out for her. Those are the things I'll remember and laugh about hysterically. It's enough to keep me going...

Nana Vel

Yesterday morning around 5:30 the phone rings. It is my dear grandmother (Nana Vel). She tells me to get over to her apartment right away and she is very sick. I race over still half asleep and realize that she has either had a heart attack or something of that nature. I am getting very good at calling 911 and knowing what to expect at this point. This is the 3rd time this year with the same scenario. So, about 5 firemen and 3 paramedics cram into her tiny apartment which is already crammed to capacity with her nick nacks and everything else that grandmas of that generation tend to have (like 50 margarine tubs overflowing out of the cupboards).

Anyway, sure enough she is having congestive heart failure. This is continual, but she refuses to take the lasix (to remove the fluid from her lungs and heart) because she is convinced that they make her dizzy and like a "rubber band is around my head". So, I guess we can expect a trip to the hospital every couple of months. She has frustrated her doctor to no end and I have just given up on trying to convince her to take medication that makes her so unhappy. I think it is her body and she knows how she feels. (I have a bit of her stubborn streak with things like this)

The funny thing is, every time I get into the emergency room the first thing she asks me...mind you, there are tubes, and oxygen, and stuff stuck to her everywhere, IS TO COMB HER HAIR. That is so typical Nana Vel and I can totally see myself doing the same thing so I get it. She can't breathe, her heart is failing, but gosh darn it she doesn't want her hair sticking up!

So, I'm thinking I'll be taking her home in a couple of days and I'll be prepared to do it all over again by the holidays. I'll keep you posted.

Kittens on our doorstep

Who could possibly resist these little guys? Are they the cutest things you've ever seen in your whole life (minus your own children...and they are maybe even cuter than that!).
So, we have had a stray cat sneak into our garage for a few months eating our cat food for Ebony (who is 14 yrs old now). Ebony was not having any of it and she's loosing her hair on her tail because of the stress. Anyway...Stray Cat was apparently a mama because she brought each one of her babies literally to our doorstep. She was even peeking around the corner when we came out as though she knew we would help them. Matt, being the animal lover he is, immediately said we have to help them. But, they got spooked (probably by his big new muscles from working out 5 days a week) and ran around the corner. Poor Matt had to move our whole wood pile to get them out from where they were hiding in between the logs (good thing for the work outs huh?)
Then the decision: what do we do with 4 kitties? Of course the kids want to just keep them all, but I just can't deal with one more living thing to take care of.
We were on our way to the pound this morning when we drove by Olympia pet hospital on the Westside and I told Matt to pull over and I would check to see if maybe they would take them. Matt said he couldn't go in because he had to put Olivia to sleep there last summer and it was too much for him. So, I go in and the sweetest guy immediately says, we'll take them! The other girl he worked with started scolding him saying he didn't have authorization from the manager. In my head I was telling her to shut up. I guess it worked because he won and they took them and promised to find good homes for them.
What a wonderful day. Now, what to do about poor mama stray cat? I will keep you posted.

humbling

I could never be a doctor. I'd like to think I have a strong stomach, but I don't think I would do well in a situation like that. It reminds me of the time in the delivery room where I turned green and the nurse ordered me to lay down on the floor while they worked around me. A humbling moment. -mp

finger tips

I didn't realize that I was a good story teller, but apparently my dear husband thinks I am so I'll do the best I can to write this blog on a regular basis. (This will probably just be for you though Mattie because who else is really going to take the time to read it?)



Let's see. Yesterday Rylee and I went to visit Shawn (Matt's sister) who is due to have her baby anytime. We gave her birthday presents to her early because I'm afraid she's gonna have that little baby anytime now and I want to get these presents out of the van because (as most of you know about me) I CANNOT stand clutter or unfinished tasks. Anyway, Lindsay (my dear niece) had an unfortunate accident a couple of months ago and the car window cut off the tip of her finger. The doctors sewed it back on, but it turned black and dead. No one really knew whether the little thing would regenerate or not so it was a waiting game for this tip to fall off and see what was underneath. Jake and Rylee by the way were lucky enough to be in the car when all this happened and they had a little bit of trauma after seeing such a sight.



Anyway, little Linney was throwing a little fit by the couch and flailing her arms. I was sitting next to her and I see this little thing fly through the air and land on the coushion. Needless to say, it was the tip of her finger! Shawn and I both panic and Lindsay is screaming. Blood is dripping and I see that her finger no longer has it's tip! HELLO! What do we do now? Auntie Alesha starts thinking ice and bandage and poor Shawn is just trying to sooth the little angel who has now seen her finger tip fall off twice! We wrap up the finger, and I go get the little black stub and put it in a bag of ice (as though it's going to be reattached again). POOR Lindsay! I just can't imagine what she's gone through with this whole incident. So, when all is calmed down it hits me. It is what it is. She'll be beautiful no matter what happens with that little finger. It's traumatic though. It's really amazing how important every little piece of our bodies are. Especially when it's our babies.

It reminds me of when Rylee had surgery to remove her extra toes. I cried and cried when they were gone because they were a part of her that is no longer there. It was like a mourning period. Now when I look at her little scars I remember what used to be there and how cute and precious all those little toes were. But, we did the right thing and she'll be happy that we did it.

Stories to Tell

This is for my lovely wife, "ap", who is a great storyteller. I hope this blog can be a source of many laughs and much entertainment. I chose a photo to start by browsing through some that were taken by ap's brother, Afton, who is an incredible photographer. He has more photos of the kids and other cool ones posted at http://aftonalmaraz.blogspot.com. So I dedicate this site to my dear, kooky wife - have fun!