Florida

Sorry it has been so long since I have posted. I have been in Florida now for 11days. My Step-mama had surgery last Thursday, and it has been very long week. She has an incredibly low pain threshhold, but a high tolerance to pain meds, which is not condusive to fast recovery. I finally convinced her she needed to get up and walk today, and hallelulia, she did. She managed to walk from about 20 feet or so, and she has done it twice already today, so I feel like progress is finally being made. She has been content to just lay on the sofa, but pretty much any surgeon will tell you, the quicker you get up and get moving the better. I tried to gently explain to her that the reason her legs ached was because she wasn't using them. Dad tends to be not so nice, so I handle her with a softer form of tough love. If she understands the importance without being pushed or belittled, she does much better. I love my dad, but he is a bulldog with zero patience.

I got a call for an interview tomorrow, so I am nervous and excited about that. I am going to let them know that it will be two weeks before I can start, as I am committed to getting my step-mom more independant.

Got to get back in and check on her, so this is a short update.

Plan B

They say a rolling stone gathers no moss; with as much as Bud and I move, we are truly mossless. My step-mama, as I said in a comment on the last post, is facing back surgery. I am heading down to help her and my dad during her recovery.  I am also going to be looking for employment, and bringing Bud and the dogs down as soon as feasibly possible.

I sooooooo want him to come down with me now. Even short separations are hard on us--always have been.  The longest stretch we have ever been away from each other is three weeks, and let me tell you, it was a LONG. THREE. WEEKS. This separation may be for months. I am trying to focus on the end goal, which is getting out of Michigan and back to warmer climes.  Florida is not at the top of my list. We were hoping to move to Kentucky at some point. Sigh.

At least this time around, we will need no more than a 10 foot truck. We have sold off most of our possessions to keep us going this last two years. Hell, I may look for a full-time AND a part-time job--if I lose one, I still have a job, you know what I mean?

Bud will be back at his mom's for a spell. Please send any positive energy you can spare (and I know we all could use positive energy right now). His mom's health is going downhill again. She passed out twice in dialysis this week, once on Monday and again yesterday. We are worried about her.

Bud has a double wammy. It is really, really hard for him to live with his mom. She is very critical, cynical, and negative about everything. On top of that, dear old brother C is coming back from Malaysia. Not sure how long he is going to be in the States, but he is a real piece of work. He treats his mom like a piece of shit, but she still worships him and thinks he can do no wrong. Makes me sick. She dotes over him incessantly, telling everyone what a wonderful son he is, yet it seems Bud can't do a damn thing right in her eyes. She seems to forget that if Bud hadn't insisted she go to the ER last year about this time, she would be dead. She was having a heart attack, but she didn't know it. She was just going to sit at the kitchen table and "ride it out". She ended up having triple bypass.

We have weighed the pros and cons. There are a lot of cons, for sure. Bud has to get a new doctor--AGAIN. For whatever reason, up here, once you leave a doctor, they don't let you come back. They want patients that will stay with them from cradle to grave, and if you dare move and drop them as a provider, they won't take you back. So he has that BS to deal with.

One of his medications is an injectible. I usually give it to him, but there is no one to do it for him, so he will having to find someone to do it, or end up going to the doctor every two weeks to have it done, which is a major pain in the butt for him, literally. 

He will have no car. I am driving down to Florida--all 1260 miles. His mom is very stingy when it comes to driving her car. She has full coverage, but is worried that if she lets someone else drive, they might get in an accident and her insurance will go up.  Forget that I drove her everywhere for 5 months. Forget that she is the scariest driver on the planet. We are hoping our nephew will let Bud use his car, since he has a truck as well and really doesn't drive his car much.

And as I mentioned before, the separation is a huge con.  It will be hard on both of us, that is for sure. The sooner I can get a job and start saving for our own place, the better.

Florida DMV prices are ridiculous. I was going to just get a Florida driver's license, but to renew my Michigan one costs $18; to get one in Florida will be $48. I will be keeping my Michigan license, thank you very much! And getting a car tagged and registered in Florida is just as bad. I won't do any of that until after we have a permanent place of residence, and by Florida law, residency is 6 months. At least I have a little window of time there.

I know I am sounding negative, but there are a lot of Pros:

Our son lives in Florida. It will be nice to have him closer. He is in the Panhandle right now, but I am hoping he will move South once we get settled. I sure miss him!

No long winters. Bud and I both suffer from seasonal depression, and sunny Florida will be the cure for that. No shoveling snow, no scraping car windshields in the blustery cold.

Job opportunities are much more abundant down in Florida. I won't have as many younguns to compete with down there, as seniors outnumber the rest of the population 3-1 in central Florida.

Fresh start. I want to put the BS of the last three years behind us. Since we moved back to Michigan in 2009 (with that 6 month stint back in Alabama to care for friends), we have been miserable. I want to get past this and move on. Like I said, Florida wouldn't have been our first choice, but it is in the right direction--SOUTH!

Haven't told K or B yet. That should be a fun conversation...

So that is our Plan B. As soon as I hear back from my Dad, I will have a better idea when I will be heading down. I am thinking sooner than later.

Rollin'......

Just When Our Lives Couldn't Get Crazier....

Bud and I will be moving for the umpteenth trillion time next weekend. We are actually--get this--moving in with Bud's first wife, K, and her roommate (who also happens to be a long-time friend of Bud's). So Bud will have two of his wives under one roof again!

We haven't told MIL yet--she is away for the weekend and won't get back until later this afternoon. This will go over like a lead balloon, let me tell ya.  We have been living with her a year--a YEAR! I know she is gotten used to us doing things around here. Not that she is not capable of doing 85% of what we do; we just try to earn our keep and make it easier for her. I think she has only cooked a half dozen times in the year we have been here. She has not had to vacuum once. I think she has done the dishes 5 times.   She does keep her own room cleaned up, and she does the sink and stool once a week. Gonna be a major adjustment for her to say the least.

We will be about an hour away, so it is not like we are moving across the country.  We will still be mowing her lawn every few weeks, and helping her with anything she cannot do herself. We will check in with her daily to make sure she is okay.

It will be a major adjustment for us as well.  We have been in caregiver mode for TWO YEARS. And we will be moving in to a home 1/2 the size of this one--and we think this one is small! LOL

We actually went out last night--for real! We joined K at a bar that was doing a Hometown Idol contest, and K made it to the next round! Bud and K kept urging me to enter the contest, but that is just not my thing. Not that I am not competitive. I am just more competitive with myself. And okay, I am competitive playing Scrabble on Facebook. But the players on Facebook aren't "real" to me--they are just faceless entities I am playing against. I might as well be playing with a computer. And since Bud and I were karaoke hosts for years and years, I am a firm believer that karaoke isn't supposed to be a competition; it is supposed to be an outlet for anyone who has the desire to sing, no matter what their skill level. When you turn it into a competition, someone who may have finally found the nerve to get up and put themselves out there might change their mind and never get up and all. Just sayin'...

Back to the move. I am NOT looking forward to telling MIL.  No matter how we tell her, it is going to put her in a fowl move. It doesn't matter that we are making the move so that I can avoid driving 60 miles for a new job; she will still take it personally.  She and I just had a big talk on Thursday, because she has been  saying things that intentionally try and hurt my feelings (criticizing how I cook or making me feel like I am not doing enough around the house). She told me I was too sensitive, and that I basically need to harden myself like she has. She said she used to bite her tongue, but as she ages, she is more outspoken; I told her that is fine, but there is such a thing as tact and kindness.

This has been coming for a while.  MIL has just about put Bud over the edge (I would probably be the same way if we were living with my mom, in all fairness. I love her to death, but I SURE couldn't live with her!) MIL has another son who actually lives right in town, but they are truly oil and water. They do NOT get along at all, so I know she will not ask him for anything and vice versa.  Any time he has tried to help, it has not been appreciated, and she has found a way to negate any efforts he has made to help and make amends in their relationship.  (Long back story here, but he truly did put every member of the family through hell for years).

Bud's other brother is in Malaysia.  He has power of attorney and is the sole heir, so our hands have always been tied. He stayed here for 6 months last year after FIL passed. I am hoping that he finds a way to move back soon, as I know if MIL passes while he is overseas, it will be a mess on our end. She has verbally given us a list of some things she wants her other DIL to have, things she wants Bud to have, things she wants me to have, etc, but she is unwilling to add a codicil to her will with these wishes. Bud and I have told her that unless she has it in writing, her verbal wishes are mute. The option is to give the items to those she wants to have them while she is still living, but she said she doesn't want to part with anything  yet. Sigh.

She at one time said if she passed, Bud and I could stay in this house as long as we wanted; sorry, but I am not doing upkeep and sinking money into a home that is not ours. I do know that Bud's brother in Malaysia would come back to Michigan if MIL bought the ticket; I suspect maybe with us gone, she will do just that, I don't know.

Whoa! I sure derailed my topic, didn't I? LOL I think as stressful as a move is, this will be a good change for us in the short run. Wish us luck! Anyone out there want to break the news to MIL???

8 More Weeks

One eight-week semester left, and I am DONE. Three more classes between being a student and being a graduate. I cannot WAIT to be done. This semester looks like two B+ grades--damn. I am disappointed, but with everything we have been dealing with regarding MIL, I am not going to beat myself up.

I am making a turkey breast with all the trimmings for supper. MIL is looking forward to it--me too. I have problems and a final exam yet to take today, then I am going to rest for the remains of the day.

I am going to have a crafting blog up and running soon displaying all the items MIL and I have made that we are selling. I have been working on my ties--pretty cute, if I do say so myself. Check out the pics below:

Far left: pins

left: barrets and hair clips

Right and below: ties with matching

pins-sorry, the pics aren't the best!

T-Minus One Week and Counting...

The exodus to the North is in one week. While I am glad to get out from underneath of the menial servitude of Ms. C., I am bittersweet about returning to Michigan. The moms' are there; the sisterwives are there; and that is about it. I guess the Fates want me to die in the ice and the cold instead of the swealtering heat. Whatevah...

On another note, I have had diarrhea for a week straight, and have been on the pot no less than 5 times in the last 6 hours. Your welcome.

School is getting ready to start back up as well, and I have got to say, this break was much needed this time around. I needed to declutter my head. Of course, that means the novel gets shelved for another 6 months...I may have it done before my Social Security kicks in--wait--what Social Security? I am certain that by the time I hit 68, there will be no Social Security. Whooo Hoooo, can't WAIT!

Hmmmmm, I think I am in a bit of a mood today. Sick of shitting, sick of shit, sick, sick, sick. Blah!

Full Moon

Last night was the full moon, and it was perported to be the largest full moon in 19 years. The full moon I saw last night was not.

I walked out of the kitchen yesterday to find Ms. C lathering butt balm on Mr. M's behind. His boney arse was sticking toward the heavens as she slathered it on, its whiteness only surpassed by that of the zinc oxide that covered it in a thick layer.

This poor man has lost every shred of dignity. We have seen every nook and cranny of this man; we have wiped his ass after he takes a dump, we have held his shriveled up pecker while he pees to assure he hits the urinal. We have bathed him, dressed him/undressed him 300 times; we have wiped food off his face that has drippled out the bad side of his mouth. We have cleaned him up and bandaged him after he has fallen and knocked half the skin off of his arm, knee, finger, head....

I feel horrible for him. He is only 61, but when you look at him, you see an old man. Even though he can out-eat us all due to his appetite-inducing pills, he is still a stick-figure.

The chemo turned his hair white--what is left of it. He has a little left, and a few indignant long, stray strands. He still brushes his hair before we go out--really no need, but we silently let him skim the brush over his mostly-bald head.

The stroke has left him limited. He has very little control over his left hand. We often must fish his hand out of gravy, peas, soup, and pancake syrup. Yesterday he gently murmured: "that gravy is hot."

We have watched him drink himself into a stupor. I will not begrudge the man. I would most likely drink myself into a stupor everyday if I had to bear the indignities he has to each morning. He is usually soaked to the bone. He prefers Bud strip him and the bed, get him dressed, get him decent and get him a hot cup of coffee. We do not belittle him for being so wet. Ms. C., on the other hand, delights, I think, in being disgusted with him. She has zero patience with him. Hubby and I fear that when we leave--and it will be soon--she will not be very nice to him.

Mr. M wants to be independent. He stubbornly drove his stick-shift truck, backing it into a junker car in the yard and busting out the headlight. He almost put it in the swamp/pond out front. Every time I turn around, the old/not really old fellow is tottering somewhere, fetching himself a drink, heading out to smoke, or getting an itch to fish.

Fishing was his "thing". Being retired, there really isn't a whole lot to do that doesn't cost a lot of money. Since the strokes and the cancer, Mr. M hasn't been able to do what he loves. Ms. C got a wild hair a few weeks ago because she was sick of seeing Mr. M just sitting there. She said it was nice out and we were going fishing. At first, Mr. M objected, but with her prodding, he agreed to it. What an ordeal that was! It took half the morning to get Mr. M around and loaded into the truck. It is only a little 2-seater, so Ms. C and I followed in her car.

The lake ended up only being accessible by 4-wheel trucks and deer, but Mr. M insisted we could make it up the deeply-rutted (read "canyon-ed") dirt road access. The only option was to throw Ms. C and I in the bed of the truck and go for it. The tailgate doesn't go up, so Ms. C, with her two bad legs, sat on the tailgate and held on to the walker in her lap. (Do you see impending disaster?)

I climbed well into the truck, as I didn't want to be a part of that impending disaster. When we were all loaded, Hubby asked if we were all loaded, and I said yes. He gunned it, and I watched Ms. C being launched out the back of the truck helplessly as I screamed for Bud to stop. There was no stopping, as the access road was over a 40 degree angle, and we had to Baja just to get up to the lake. I screamed to Ms. C that wI would send Bud back for her.

When we got to the lake at the top, it was only then that Bud found out that he had bounced Ms. C out of the back of the truck. He went back down the hill to get her--a good 1/2 mile that seemed a lot longer from the bed of the truck. She had managed to walk about 500 feet up the hillside with her walker. Can you picture it?

Bud got her loaded and brought her up the hill. It wasn't over yet. Mr. M pointed to the cabin and a bank around the opposite side of the lake. "That is where we want to be," he said matter-of-factly. It is here that I must note that neither Bud nor I swim. I am afraid of water of my head. This is a man-made lake. It doesn't gradually get deep; it instantly gets deep. There are signs posted all over "no swimming" and "very deep lake". Special.

Now comes the fun part. To get to the opposite side of the lake, there is a narrow isthmus of land separating the lake from a 300-foot drop-off. Lake of Death on one side; Valley of Death on the other. Perfect!

There is a gate on the other side, and we couldn't tell if it was open or closed. Mr. M said it didn't matter. If it was closed, we would just park at the end and fish, and and then back out. NO. FUCKING. WAY. I volunteered to go walk the 1/4 mile and visually affirm whether or not the gate was open. I kept my eyes on the road or the lake--I didn't want to see the drop on the other side, or I would have been immobilized.

After confirming the gate was open, Bud drove across. I could not watch, nor could I get in the truck. I was paralyzed with fear. Bud obviously made it across in one piece, and we got all the chairs, poles, beers, bait and tackle out of the truck. We moved Mr. M three times before he found a place he felt confident that he could sit and not fall in, yet get a good cast in.

Mr. M could cast just fine, but realized that without use of his left hand, he couldn't hold the pole and reel it in. he did his best by holding the pole between his knees, though. After one cast, he declared he was just going to watch. So, the rest of of grabbed poles and cast out. After 10 minutes, Mr. M says: "We have to go. I have to pee."

Yes, yes, I know, he could have peed right there. I believe it was his way of saying he wasn't having fun and therefore fishing day was over. It took more time to load and unload the truck than was actually spent fishing. It was a beautiful lake. I was actually enjoying myself, once the terror of getting there was behind us. Sigh.

Mike got a wild hair yesterday and wanted to run to town and get Bream hooks, sinkers and fish feed. Good Lord, save us all.

A Day to Ourselves

Hubby and I had a much needed day away. We got a room at a motel in Columbus, left the house around noon, and didn't return until noon the yesterday.

We shopped, we ate a wonderful supper with about 100 other hungry people, snuggled, watch some Big Love, took long soaks in the tub, and SLEPT. Didn't get to sleep in like I wanted, but the bed was HEAVEN--soooooooo comfortable. Didn't wake up achey and stiff like I usually do on the mattress from Hell that we are sleeping on now.

Thank you, my darling, for a wonderful day away!

And more good news: the heart surgeon cut Ms. Carol loose yesterday! She is allowed to drive now, so no more toting her around to appointments. YAY! She get the stitches out tomorrow, and hopefully will be given the thumbs up to do whatever activity she wants.

Mr. Mike got toasted last night. Fell down twice, knocking off a big chunk of skin in the meantime. Mr. Mike does like his beer....

New semester started, and I am hoping that I do better this semester than I did last semester (more later when I get my official grades).

Happy Fat Tuesday, Y'all!!!!!!!

Seriously....

I soooooo want to just spend a day in bed. But as soon as 8am rolls around, I start feeling guilty, because I know I have two laid-up adults in the living room waiting for me to change bandages, drain drainage bottles, get their urine-soaked butts out of bed and onto a commode while I change them...pretty much my daily morning routine.

It is 9:30am, and they are both still asleep. I don't dare go back to bed, as they are sure to wake up if I do. Instead, I am sitting here in the frigid kitchen (only room with heat is the living room where Mr. Mike and Ms. Carol sleep) typing a brief update.

We had to drive Ms. Carol to Tuscaloosa during the worst of the freezing rain and sleet--fun times. Her wound just did not look good, so I called the visiting nurse to give it a look-see. The visiting nurse said it was infected; later, the doctor told us it was not. It ended up being a good thing after all, as we were supposed to have her to T-town by 8am this morning to have this procedure done. That meant we would have had to get up at 5am to have her fed and ready to go, and we would have been driving on ice covered roads in the dark. Instead, she had the procedure yesterday, and we were home before it was dark. Not that the roads were a joy, but it could have been worse.

It is still raining this morning, and because the surfaces are so cold and the temp is only 34 degrees, it is freezing as soon as it hits the ground. Due to this fact, the dogs will not go out to pee. Dixie, a feisty Lhasa Apso, took a dump in the kitchen rather than be subjected to the ice cold rain bullets. Can't blame her...

I am turning into a real southern bumpkin. I made jalapeno corn bread last night to go with a pot of chili, and I am making fried chicken livers for supper tonight. Who'd a thunk it? And these people are actually EATING it...go figure. They did pick out the jalapenos from the cornbread, stating it made it too hot. Wimps!

I am heading to Columbus once it warms up to put in a job application with Marriott Hotels International. They just built a Fairfeild Inn, and they are breaking ground for a Courtyard by Marriott. Wish me luck!

Crazy ass dreams last night. Involved petting an android cat until it had kittens, and competing in a dance off on a pre-teen kid's show. My brothers and I were like the Partridge Family or something (yes, I am an old fart who watched the Partridge Family).

Sigh. Carol is up, must get my hiney in caregiver mode.