As the stomach turns...

Life certainly does feel like a soap opera sometimes. I do NOT like drama. I do NOT like conflict. Both make my blood pressure rise and my anxiety flare up. Oh and for the record, apparently PAIN makes my blood pressure SKYROCKET. 142/100 at yesterday's doctor appointment....YIKES (it came way down by bedtime last night).

My mother is still at her home. 24 hour care is still in place with a new caregiver. She has been accepted onto Title 19 and the state has assessed her needs. I took her to a new GP (one who was referred by the Alzheimer's Association) and she also had another appointment with the geriatric psychiatrist. I like the new doctor ok and I'm still not a fan of the psychiatrist, but she is kind to my mother so I have to remember that it isn't about me.

I've tweaked out my back which is really getting me irritated. I cannot do any of my normal everyday chores, etc. easily. I cannot pick things off the floor, I walk like I'm 90 years old and I cannot sit for too long without being in agony. I have, however, figured out how this all started (doing leg lifts, etc. in the pool) and how it got worse (sitting in the car for hours on vacation). Of course, the coup d'etat was when I squatted down to get the darn collar off the pool filter and felt something RIP across my back. 2 hours in the ER right before our HUGE annual party for Labor Day. Thankfully I have the most AMAZING family. Thing 1 and Thing 2 stepped up to the plate and took care of getting the yard and house up to par while hubby took me to the hospital 30 minutes away. My MIL also was a huge help and came over early to offer her support. For those of you who "know" my Thing 2, I was blown away by her ability to take charge and do what needed to be done. I respect her in ways that I couldn't have if this didn't happen to me. Blessings do come from bad things.

So now we are basically on a holding pattern...Mom is settled and we're slowly getting her needs squared away. I saw my PA yesterday and he gave me new meds, a script for PT and had me go for Xrays. I have also gained 5 pounds, but under the circumstances, I am actually ok with that. There hasn't been much exercise the last month and lots of eating Haagen Dazs chocolate peanut butter ice cream before bed. /burp/

And at the end of the day? It just got worse.

No care as of 5pm today for NON PAYMENT. Right. That means I have to sit on my hands all day and try like hell to fight the urge to go save my mother.

I called and put in a referral with Elder Services after speaking with the social worker from the psychiatrists' office. After we found out there will be NO care as of today, my sister called and got into a fight with another woman at Elder Services.

After that, the same woman my sister fought with (and told that she would hold her personally responsible if anything happened to my mother) called my brother and assured him that they will make a home visit today.

Now, we just wait...and hope that the little stealing bitch stays away long enough that my mother is removed and placed where she can be safe. And then once I know she is safe, I can start dealing with the guilt that I cannot take care of her. Oh joy.

Absurdity strikes again!

Oh for goodness sake - can we ever get a fuckin' break here?

The daytime caregiver quit this morning. Many reasons...one being that my stepfather's family is manipulative, she isn't fond of the afternoon caregiver (who apparently is actually LIVING in my mother's house) and that the granddaughter who stole money from them is now starting to "take over" again.

That means that my mother's only "daily basis" advocate (and I don't think she was terribly strong) is gone. That means that my mother has no choice, but to be battered by this granddaughter, a caregiver she hates and miserable....and we know things haven't changed.

I'm done. I'm fried. As is my brother. We can't take her in. We can't put her in a home. We cannot do a fucking thing because they have all the control even though my mother's name is on the deed of the house.

I've put a call into the social worker I met with yesterday. I am contemplating calling social services and giving a report to Elderly Abuse. I just don't understand why my Mom is always the bad guy in this situation - why no one will help us protect her....

If you pray, please do. If not, good thoughts that we can figure out what our next move should be.

And the saga continues....

I had to step up again today and be the adult. That dreaded part of my life that makes me want to run crying for my blankie and stay in bed all day.

About two weeks ago, my mom became combative with her caregivers while they were trying to bathe my stepfather (she was jealous and thought they were trying to steal her guy). She then ran out of the house. "Eloped" is the word the social worker used today. A word that brings up a different scenario to me than how they use the word. Needless to say, 911 was called and my mother was brought to the hospital. She was kept there until midnight and then they finally decided to admit her for evaluation. I wasn't told until after the fact. I was told the next day, in fact, and that was by my sister. Not my brother who lives in the same state as I do. And really by then they had already sent her packing saying that she wasn't ready for "facility living", but they did give her some extra drugs. And if you've read my blog you know that I am not a fan of "let's drug them up so they don't give us any shit" when it comes to my mother and her Alzheimers.

So today I was bringing her to see a new doctor. It is a group of psychiatrists and social workers that specialize in geriatric care. Good place to be, I guess. I was a bit late in picking her up, but thankfully this new doctor is maybe 5 miles from her home and in an area that I am well familiar with. She seemed drugged. She could not hold a conversation and she could not follow simple instructions on how to get into my car. I literally had to lift her up to get her into the seat and then pretty much tug her out when we got there. I'm pretty sure if you asked her what my name was today, she couldn't tell you. Oh wait, they did ask her and she had no clue. The social worker took me and left her with a doctor. Then we came back together and another doctor came with with the social worker. They asked more questions (some of which I could not answer because I am not her POA or Conservator) and then basically told me that my mother is in the late stages of Alzheimers. Dude really? Like I didn't know this? Sigh. So we're charging medicaid and blue cross $150 for you to waste my time for 2 hours on one of the last days of summer vacation with my kids so you can tell me what I already know? Pulease.

And then they spoke of the fact that she needs some kind of stimulation during the day because that is likely why she isn't sleeping well at night. Not enough daytime stimulation and likely the current caregivers are not even aware of what should be happening with her. Adult day care. Oh terrific. Great. I want that for her too, but how the FUCK am I supposed to pay for it? Right. Did you not get the memo when I spoke to the social worker that all her care is paid for from my stepfather's lawyer? A lawyer that we did not hire and really was hired to act in my stepfather's best interest? Oh I'm sure she is a very nice lawyer, Miss Social Worker, but I've dealt with her before at my last house closing and she was a total and complete, unprofessional BITCH. So yeah, my brother will have to broach that subject. We may be able to get small grants through the state's Alzheimer's group. I have numbers and papers and my head is swimming. Oh and another appointment on September 9th.

So I bring her back to the house and her PM caregiver tells me that my mom is so much better now that she is home from the hospital. Yep. I'm sure she is, Miss Caregiver. She is loopy, can't think straight and shuffles around on her feet like an old woman. Of course, that is how you wanted her to begin with, right? Just one month ago, she was a totally different woman. And yes, she was still forgetful and couldn't always find the words she needed, but she wasn't like this.

I feel like a failure. No money, no job, no say...I cannot care for her here and I cannot care for her there. I can drive her to appointments. Big fuckin' whoop. Did I mention that I hate this part of my life?

Sitting at dance camp with the little girl

Why is it that parents think it is totally ok to let their other children run rampant in and out of dance rooms playing with things (mats, trampolines)? I swear that for the last 3 weeks, these other children have raised havoc and the mothers sit there chatting like nothing is going on and it has gotten to the point that the owner of the studio (whom is teaching & I am paying for little girl's dance camp) has asked the boys to chill out/stop running/etc. This week, she asked me to keep an eye on them as her foster daughter is among the crowd (but is not disruptive). This burns my biscuits. Why the heck should I have to watch your boys? Why shouldn't you be getting off your butts and watching them yourselves? Ugh. Empty threats don't work. Parenting does. For God's sake...TRY IT! I understand that kids are kids. I understand that sitting at dance camp for an hour and 15 minutes really isn't their thing, but then bring stuff to keep them occupied. Keep them occupied in your eyesight and stop allowing them to act like a bunch of hooligans. For the love of all that is good and right, GET OFF YOUR BUTTS!

Odd man out

Yep. That's me. I'm so tired of trying to fit in that I've decided to embrace not fitting in. As my sister says, "This is me. This is who I am." You can take me or leave me, but I am not going to feel badly.

I've decided that I'm going to focus on those people who like me and want to be with me. If you have problems with me and you can't be adult enough to speak to me then you are left with what you should be. Bitterness, anger, resentment - whatever. I've been on that side too. That's not a healthy place. Saying what is on your mind does not need to be rude although it is usually confrontational and uncomfortable. Most people do not like that, but the aftermath...the cleanse...is what makes it worth it.

I cannot make everyone happy. I cannot read minds. I will NOT feel guilty for either of these things because it is not my job. And believe me, as a mom, I feel enough guilt for things that are far more important.

I am not perfect. Far from it. But I have a heart and feelings and when someone makes it abundantly clear that I'm not important in their world, that hurts. I am forever trying to do the right thing and be the best person I can be, but sometimes I might have an off day...or hell an off three months. Here are my shoes, remember?

So yeah, I'm thankful for my friends, my family - those who know I am not perfect yet love me anyway and still see something in me that makes it worth having a relationship with me. Those are the people I am focusing on from now on because I have to believe that there is *something* good and worthwhile inside of me.

Getting healthy and losing weight - sometimes this journey sucks

I am trying to lose weight. 35lbs to be exact. The first month I shed 7 lbs. It wasn't too difficult. Now in my second month, I have lost nothing. In fact, if the scale was correct this morning, I am up two pounds. Now granted, I'm pretty sure it is water weight and the fact that I was camping without proper toilet facilities with a bunch of other people. Unfortunately, I am someone who is very regular while at home, but not so much when I am sleeping somewhere else especially with people who are not part of my family.

I am frustrated. I want this weight to be gone. I want to wake up and be thin again. I HATE LOATHE and DESPISE exercise. Some days I tell myself that I only have to walk on the treadmill just to get my arse on the stupid thing. Most days I end up running anyway. I push myself harder and harder because I am competitive. I want to break my old "record". I also know that my calories burned is higher while running...and the more distance I can get in the shortest amount of time is what I aim for. Distance * (body weight * .63) = net calories burned is what I go by for running. Walking is just a measly half of that. I want it NOW.

On the plus side, I have gone down a pants size. Things that didn't fit are fitting again. There are still quite a few things that are waiting on me to get even smaller though. I am holding out. I am going to keep on keeping on. Even now when I am tired and frustrated. I guess I just need to amp up my exercise and really eat clean. EVERY day. EVERY day is a new day to start again.