Family+Marriage+Caregiving+Book Reviews= A Blog With An Identity Crisis
No, It's Not Too Hot
Because of my grandmother's condition she can't drive so she relies on me and my mother to take her out. Usually she likes riding on the back roads. When I went to visit her today she was ready to go out because she had been in the house for too long. So she asked me this almost as soon as I got there:
Cille: "Is it real hot out there Lisa?"
Me: "Yes it is."
Cille: "Is it too hot for me to get out?"
Me: "I don...
Cille: "No, it's not."
Of course I took her out because no matter how old I am- if either one of my grandmothers says "Jump!" I immediately obey them...because they scare me.
My grandmother had to go to the ER today because she was having trouble breathing. When the doctor came in and told her she needed to stay a day or two for observation, she proclaimed this in front of him: "SHIT! You mean I have to stay? I didn't come up here to stay."
My husband had a doctor's appointment a few days ago and afterwards I asked him if he wanted to go anywhere else. He wasn't sure and then I reminded him that a new hardware store was open.
"Ooh. Let's go there", he exclaimed.
Cause, ya know, tools are da bomb.
So my first impression was that it was shiny and that most of the things in there I had no clue what they were. But the husband was happy.
"What's this?", I asked.
"It's a wrench."
"Oh. I just liked it cause it's the color of The Hulk."
Then he started explaining some thingabobby to me:
"Yeah. I don't really know what you're saying but that's ok. I'm tired. I think I'm gonna sit down."
"Can you sit in it or is it on display?"
"Uh. I'm gonna sit in it. I'll tell em I'm trying it out."
"Oh. It has a tray."
"Ooh. An armrest."
"I think that's to set drinks on."…
My husband has dystonia. I usually describe it as being similiar to Parkinson's Disease. He has trouble moving and on a rainy, yucky day like today his movements get even slower. Luckier, I was here and was able to pop some pills in him.
We have our own way of communicating. He grunts. Usually he gets his message across but for some reason today my mind and body didn't want to work.
"Can you move?", I asked.
" Rye wront know."
"Do you need a pill?"
He manages to shrug his shoulders.
"I'm giving you a pill."
"Do you have water?"
"Sorry. I don't understand grunts."
He doesn't. I get him some.
I give him one pill. I go to give him more and in a sequence of tongue clicks, eye blinks, and lots of uhhhs- he gets the message conveyed.
It takes just a few minutes for him to start moving again. For the mos…