Month: February 2012

Back on the rollercoaster

The good news: My doctor thinks I’m amazing.

The bad news: The new brain pills are not keeping up with production requirements. Plus, one of the “rare” (read: certain to happen to me) side effects is ravenous hunger. This is not an acceptable side effect.

So we are still living with lethargy, lack of sleep, and periodic desire to commit violence against Stupid Drivers, Jerks, and Anyone Who Happens to Be Annoying Us at the Moment. Fortunately, the pilot is still in charge of the plane and has nixed those impulses.

At this point, it takes too much effort even to call the doctor, although I know that must be done to fix this and go on to Plan K. Since we only worked out Plans A, B, and C, I have no idea what Plan K will involve. Possibly trucks traveling at high rates of speed.

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Grandma’s 95th natal day

I seem rarely to write about holidays or family gatherings, I think mostly because I’m too busy enjoying the events and then it’s really hard to describe them so they’re actually interesting. Courtesy of KrisDi and Snaotheus, though, here’s a shot of Grandma and Chilkat for Grandma’s 95th birthday celebration (held on Saturday). KrisDi made her a cake (!!) and Grandma still remembers!


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And another. . .

“I don’t know what’s wrong with the mirror in the bathroom. I can’t see myself in it.”

“Maybe that’s because you’re short and in a wheelchair?”

“I want to know what I look like.”

“We-e-ell-lll, you look pretty much like other women here. You’re little and white-haired and wrinkly.”

“Wrinkled? I can’t be wrinkled! I don’t want wrinkles!”

“Um, I don’t think you have much choice in that one. We all get wrinkles.”

(Grandma shakes her head vigorously.) “No. I don’t have wrinkles.”

(Guffaw. I just can’t help it.) “I’m sorry, dear, but you do have wrinkles. Quite a lot of them.”

“But. . . but. . .” (waves arms around in the air) “. . . but I’ve never. . . stretched my skin out!

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Another (sigh) conversation

(Grandma generally goes to bed, lights out, at 8 p.m. Phone rings at 9 p.m. with emergency-siren sound assigned to Grandma calls.)

“Hi, Mom. What’s up?”

“Oh, who is this? . . . Is this you, Anna? Oh, oh. . .”

“Yes, it’s me. Do you need something?”

“. . . Oh, can you help me?”

“I’ll try. What do you need?”

“Oh, oh. . . oh. . .”

(Waits patiently.)

“I. . . oh. . . I. . .”

(Waits patiently.)

“Oh. . .”

“Do you feel all right? Are you hurt?”

“No. . . I. . . Can you tell me how to get hold of the helpers here?”

(Slight boggle occurs on my end of line. She’s lived there for 11 years.)

“You can either pull the wall cord by your bed or push the button that’s around your neck.”

(Long pause, with heavy breathing.) “. . . button? On my neck? I don’t have a button on my neck.”

(Boggles a little more. The button’s been there for six or eight years. Wonders if Grandma envisions buttoning her neck shut. Describes button, about 3″ square hanging on red-white-blue ribbon.)

“. . . . . . . . .”

(Describes cord hanging from wall, with stuffed animal attached at the end.)

“. . . . . . . . .”

“Mom? Are you OK?”

“Oh, never mind.” (Phone disconnects.)

(I call the office, which dispatches someone to go see What Emma Has Done This Time. It turns out she has . . . lost her glasses. Since these are on her face from the moment she awakens until she retires, we are unable to deduce how this could have happened. Especially since she was in bed, with the lights out. And can’t very well use them while she’s sleeping. Resident Nurse Boss says maybe she dropped them on the way upstairs after dinner. I point out that she can’t see without them, so doesn’t take them off. Also, these are brand-new glasses that fit her perfectly. . . which she has had for less than one week.)

(Chuckle from Resident Nurse Boss.) “There’s just no point in trying to figure out the logic, is there?”

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