The last week at home.

     Here we go.  Now partly what happened the weekend of the 4th, the trust fund came up.  She even spoke to his sister.  That went over like a carbonate balloon.  Just felt lead would have been overkill.  

     The pall over the house was now complete.  It was obvious she was doing little to help herself.  But she was saying she was.  

     I'm never sure if it is just purely pathological or what.  The ability to tell someone that is a lie, but profess it to be the truth.  Until it becomes a reality.  Well let's do a quick foreshadowing, that would suffice.  One night after her return to the rehab.  Took her to the vending machine.  She had a $10.  I told her it didn't take tens, 1's and 5's.  she assured me that she did this all the time.  In it went.  She got her purchase, let's say .90 and change in the amount of $4.10.  That is a fine example.

     Let us discuss sleep apnea a little.  I think the majority of people that do suffer from it sleep on their backs.  That is just my assessment.  It may be worthless, who knows.  But after a lifetime of it who is to say.  Now there may be other conditions, in her case her C.O.P.D.  It seems to me now that a majority of people over 50 now have what is called a CPAP machine.  It is a machine patients use when sleeping.  It forces oxygen through a mask.  It looks uncomfortable enough so that I don't ever want to develop this condition.

     Well she'd stopped using it.  You really are just supposed to use it while sleeping.  She used it constantly.  I think that was a large issue too.  I tried to explain the Dr.'s points.  Wear oxygen when doing normal things and use that only when you're ready for bed. To no avail.  She started using only the oxygen.  

     Look I'm not going into step by step, face it I don't have the tolerance.  She became a tad dopey and oxygen deprived.

     Sorry I just don't know how I wish to keep proceeding.  Step by step, blow by blow.  Makes for damned boring reading and writing.  My belief is that I have now laid the ground work.  Think we'll go back to the normal way tomorrow.

     The first 2 days home she pretty much slept.  Rehabs are a lot like hospitals.  You don't really get to rest.  I was feeling positive as all Hell.  Even made a few day trip plans.  Had suggestions.  I was all in.  Sadly I was the only one.  Oh no faithful reader.  I am still the same realist.  There will be reminiscing, maybe tender stuff.  But I am still the same about those 2.  Anyway.

     The following week looked promising.  The B.I.L. was off.  So if there were any bumps; or need of help, he'd be there.  Weekend went as it always did.  They started fighting like cats and dogs Saturday night.  I think it was over her demand for a smoke.

     I put my headphones on and listened to podcasts until I fell asleep.  Sunday night the same shit.  Monday was the beginning of the week.  Gave her a little pep talk. She assured me she was leaving the bedroom.  Off I went.  Yup, whoever thought that she didn't leave was right.

     I let it slide until Wed.  I tried talking to her again.  First it was an excuse of that she had been exercising in the bedroom.  Then it was that the cluttered doorway was impassible.  Then she demanded the walker.  It was my mom's and in the garage.  It was brought forth.  That week passed into the weekend.  The B.I.L. telling me she never left the room.  Yet I was still somewhat hopeful.

     He was spending his usual time with her the following week.  Come home, 10 min to complain about his day.  Then watch T.V. in the living room and drink.  Eat dinner, he'd bring her's for her into the bedroom.  Downstairs still drinking.  Come upstairs and make her tea for like 2 hours.  She bought it.  When really all he was doing was drinking and drunkenly complaining to himself.  Part of me wonders if he regrets that.  

     The fights were nightly.  No I don't think the alcohol played a bigger role.  They were always volatile.  One night I did intercede, it was annoying as Hell.

     With some encouragement from her and myself the next week.  It was the July 4th weekend.  Told you the time line may be iffy.  He went to stay for an overnight with his family.  

     It was an alright night.  I even watched the Macy's day fireworks with my sister.  Something I never do and I suppose now I'm glad I did.

     He came back and said he'd a nice time.  Then it was back to fighting every night.  It was truly nightmarish.  the second week passed.  She still had not left the room.  At 1 point I distinctly remember.  She'd called him in to watch some T.V.  He screamed from the kitchen that he was making her tea.  Bet he wishes he could have those 2 hours back.  But hey there was fucking bud light to be drank.

    The final week the fighting slowed.  My sister was not backsliding completely.

I'm going to stop here for today.

The Final Homecoming

             June was unaccountably hot if I recall.  But I must admit my recollections of the last year are extremely suspect.  That aside I remember this day.

     A joyous day.  My sister was to come home.  New and improved.  New attitude.

     I'd never actually been to this place in the daytime before.  The parking is completely full.  What with staff, day patients and the ilk.  I had to park way in the back on some grassy lot.  As asked I'd picked up some cookies for the staff and a gift or 2.

     I arrived at her room.  She wasn't there.  This room looked out onto a courtyard.  She had wheeled herself, a very good thing, outside.  She was just passing the window and I was glad.  I really thought this was the time she'd come through.  

     I'll spare the little details of the goodbyes.  The arduous task of lugging stuff from the room to the car.  

     Not sure I'd mentioned it.  I'd made her a poster, I ran a print shop.  It was of the B.I.L. and the dog.  Something to cheer the room up.  She loved it.  Still have that too.

     Got her home and situated, keeping the positive talk up.  She was going to be on the ball.  Just give her 2 days to adjust, get some quality sleep.  It sounded so good.

Trying to straighten this out and find the thread

         Okay the line is entirely convoluted.  As am I with the order of things.  I started reading from where I got the flu and forward.  Things are muddled but we will sally forth.

     You see I'm at odds as to the times when she was in the rehab center.  Brother in Law assures me it was all this year.  I'm not so sure.  But it's been busy.

     Okay the knee injury is decidedly after the flu.  See if I can work this out on the fly.  Far as I can remember she had 3 rooms so 3 visits.  He says 4.

     I can recall the first one somewhat.  That might have ended with the trip to the hospital.  Nothing memorable about that one.  This may have been the missing link.  The one that she got sent back to the hospital.  Upon being released it was recommended that she go to rehab.  She refused.  Got here home.  Half an hour later I called the ambulance.

     The second was about the time of the flu and knee injury.  She'd actually made a friend, dude in the room next to her.  He got her more involved in the center.  She got to know some people there.  She always had the knack for making friends.

    Okay I think I've pulled some threads together.  We'll start with her coming home on June 26 tomorrow.

Sitting here.

    Sitting here in a chair.  I'm of 3 different minds.  




1.)  Continue to the point of when the last post occurred.  

2.)  Just explain it and end this blog.

3.)  Start a new blog because this one is now compromised.

     Number 3 is the most interesting.  After all one of the driving forces that got us here was that MySpace had been compromised.  The new one is a little more complicated but inherently lazy.

     Number 2.  I've thought about it.  Start afresh.  Meaning that I am at a new chapter and a new point in my life.  Or at least very close to it.  So why not a new one?

     Number 1.  As a story teller I think my silent audience deserves the tale.  It's been a puzzle to me, maybe because I write very raw.  Or maybe I just am able to put things into words.  Or perhaps this somehow makes people feel like they're not alone.

     By the way I'm at work and writing this.  Officially before I'm on the clock so it's okay.  I think we will go with all 3 choices.  In order.  Stay tuned who knows if I change my mood.

Death

     My sister has passed.  I'll not be able to keep up the posts as promised.  Sorry.  Will let you know when I'm back.

Synopsis to cover the knee stuff.

     That first night, I remember having no pain.  I was concerned about that.  I had no real issues. 5 months or so in the future I don't remember if I'd started cooking again or not.

     The rest of the week continued well enough.  By the end something was new.  Brother in law was now having to leave very early.  He was working back where my sisters previous hospital was.  See other entries.

     So I was to take care of the dog and such.  We quickly established a routine.  About 6  it was outside time.  Or for her it was free time for 15 min.  

     We'd go out back, carefully making sure not to lock my stupid self out of the house.  She'd go first and me following with a cup of coffee.  Oh yes, coffee and I are still very much an item.

     I remember it being a pleasant spring.  There was still space for me to hobble around.  From that bit of weeding I'd done and that my brother in law helped with.  

     We had a thing where we'd split the yard.  She'd spend the first 7 or so minutes on one side then we'd switch.  The birds obliged us with tunes.  The sky with clouds and such.  Oh Spring mornings, there is pure magic still left in thee.  (Remember I'm stating this in the beginning of November.)

     After that I'd lock the house down.  Slowly amble out to my car and go to work.  Since I couldn't go to the gym I had loads of time.  So, if I've covered this the readers and I have forgotten.

     I broke down and downloaded a game on my IPhone.  It was free so why not eh?  

     Park at work, hobble inside.  Store my stuff at my desk.  Go to the cafeteria and get a cup of tea.  Then to my booth where my leg could be properly elevated until it was time to go to work.  

     I admit to enjoying this routine.  In fact I would still be doing it now, but we'll get to that in a few months I suppose.  Poor buggers you.

     Happily I was still able to keep my hours and the drive home was no crucible.  So I continued.