Parkinson's and a Chainsaw plus One Dead Dog.

My mother phones me up in the middle of my night shift sleep to tell me that my brother's dog died up at my sister's farm.

I had asked "What happened?"   in response to her cryptic "Poor Boz" that  she posted to her Facebook Wall. (Yes, my mother at age 81 has a Facebook account!)

Not a good thing to post without explanation especially when the grand kids who actually own the dog are up late at night - see it  - and  post the exact same thing I did.  

She replied with an even more cryptic "Phone your sister and ask her".....

Apparently he was hit by a car. 

Sad story. 

You really don't want to know the details - but here it goes anyway. 

My idiot brother had bought this Leonberger dog with the intention to breed him because he had this wild idea that he could make some quick money (first mistake) and paid an exorbitant price for the dog that he could ill afford (second mistake).

Of course, it was like flushing the money down the loo because no one had time to spend with him (third mistake), and he became an unruly big untrained bear of a dog - albeit harmless. 

It got so no one could handle him, and after a disastrous spill from the back of my brother's truck while driving down the highway (yes, I know. Stupid, stupid.  Like I said...and fourth mistake.) and a broken hip later that he allowed to heal on it's own because a vet was too expensive (fifth mistake), Boz was put on my Sister's farm up in northern Alberta to live out his life.  

As it so happens, his life he lived out was cut short when he was hit by what was probably the only vehicle to drive by during a huge electrical storm.

Thus the cryptic "Poor Boz" on my mother's FB page.

But that isn't the end of it.  In my foggy haze of half asleep/half awake state that we as nurses experience when we get a phone call mid-sleep in mid-day..... I offhandedly asked mom what dad was up to.

"Oh your Uncle is here (Dad's brother, husband of the nearly-drowned aunt) and he and your dad are out cutting wood for the winter."

"You mean.....trees? Those big trees out front??"

 "Your dad couldn't get the chainsaw started. They are using a small saw..."

"Wait....what??? Well thank goodness for that, mom.   He's got Parkinson's!"

"Don't you worry," mom says casually - honestly believing what she is saying.  "He knows what he's doing."

"MOM. I know that he knows what he's doing! But - a chainsaw??? He's got - Parkinson's!! Think about it!  Don't you think that's slightly dangerous??"

I have to admit, the nurse in me had to be amused just a teensy bit at the vision that just flashed through my mind.  I couldn't help it. 

Admit it.  You did too!

Parkinson's and a chainsaw. 

That's a casualty waiting to happen.

Holy Mackerel.  It gives me nightmares thinking about the possibilities.

The bad thing is....it isn't like I could even stop it.

Sometimes we as adult children, have to just stop and take a breath, and let parents be parents.... there is nothing to do but pray they don't harm themselves along the way.

What a reversal.

Wait a minute.  I think I posted about that before......

*sigh*

Come and get in my Boat.....and look at the view!

I had a good laugh yesterday.

After I posted this video yesterday on my Facebook,  my mother commented beneath, " That lady looks like my MOM!!!!!!!!!!!!"

To which I replied, "Mom: You are in denial. SHE looks like YOU!"

Which -  she does. 

It's funny that I had posted the same thing on my own blogpost....that the little old lady looked like MY mother - not my grandmother! 

I guess in a few years, I might be looking like my mom. Or my grandmother.

Memories of a discussion with my mother approximately 20 years ago popped into my head.

While discussing years gone by,  I had asked what age she felt in her head....and she replied that she felt the same as when she was 18, which was difficult for me to equate at the time.

my mother a million years ago

Through the years we gather knowledge and experience and our mind grows and our ideas expand. We mature (hopefully) and grow spiritually and socially.   Eventually it gets to the point where we may still  feel young - but our body shows otherwise.  

When I was younger, the idea that someday I would get old just didn't gel. (Lo, you hit the nail on the head!)   I was in denial.

Getting old?  Not me! I would be the exception. 

I had decided that I was not going to fall apart and have body functions doing things that I don't want them to.    I wasn't going to be that old person who would fart at inappropriate times and, somehow, my age lines wouldn't resemble my mother's.  My joints were going to move without creaks and cracks, thank-you-very-much.

I wasn't an exceptional beauty growing up, but I must admit - I always had the attention of the opposite sex, even though I didn't really pay much attention to them. 

Now, as an older person (ouch!) one notices the absence of male attention and one has no choice but to accept the fact that age is a very real thing that actually does creep up on one!   All those old people I looked after for the last 35 years are suddenly - me!

*There. I said it.*

Not that I really care now about less male attention any more than I did when I was younger.  It's just that when something you took for granted that was an everyday thing is now absent.....well.....you notice.  It hits you smack in the face.

Men aren't hit so hard with the facts, interestingly enough.  Take my cousin's husband for example:

It struck me rather funny the last time I was visiting them - the story he excitedly and incredulously told the group about how some young chick was "coming onto him" at the golf course.   I laughed at him (yes I did!) and with an attempt at a reality check -  corrected him...." For gosh sakes, Tom - she was only trying to wheedle a good tip out of you...she probably thought she was being nice to some old grandpa ....not flirting!!!! "

what men see

My cousin's husband is in denial, or blind, but maybe that's because he's a guy.  And no, my comment that I countered with didn't crush his ego.

Typical.

I think women are more realistic about things like that.

So, for you young persons out there.....just sayin'.  It will happen to you someday, and unless you are incredibly wealthy and can afford the "fixes" ( come on, do you really want to look like a plastic corpse?)......you will be in my boat someday.

But - don't let it stop you from enjoying yourself: 

Pay attention to what is now  -  and savor every bit of life.   Don't ever let depression get in your way.  

Do things you want to do now.   Laugh often.  Smile at strangers.  Do things that make you feel good, and doing good things for others will do that for you. 

Don't wait for others to catch up to you.  Charge on ahead - and let others follow.

Take advantage of every opportunity and don't let life "just happen" to you.

Learn from your mistakes and see them as opportunity for growth rather than a negative thing. Move on and don't waste what time is left.  Throwing good after bad doesn't fix things!

I wish I had learned a lot earlier what I know now, but that's what happens.  Even if someone had told me these things....   would I have listened? 

Probably not. 

It's the curse of being young. 

So, back to my mom.

She thinks the lady in the video looks old - like her mom.   I think the lady looks old - like my mom.
I am sure if I had kids....they would say she looks old....like me.

Lucky for me, or maybe not so lucky for me- depending on your situation.....I have no one that can say that to me.

At least I am not in denial.  I have no illusions whatsoever about what I look like now as an older person.


But - It's all good.

...........Really!

Computers plus Grandparents = Hilarity

I swear, this little lady looks like my mother - even acts like her. Even has the same computer problems.

The gentleman....not so much. My dad can be this cheerful but he is not so appreciative of my mother's attributes, at least - not that I have observed....



I love it!

Apparently the grandchildren found this video saved on their grandparent's computer and decided it would be a great post for Youtube.

The delightful couple lives in Oregon.

Of Knitting Needles and Bears

We get home from camping and there's a message from my mom on my phone.

"This is your mother calling....give me a call....I need to ask you something..."

Sounds serious.

The message was left on Friday - and here it is Sunday night. 

I tried to brush off the panic.  Wouldn't she have emailed me if it were important??

I give her a call.

"Hey mom, what's up?"

Apparently when she sat down on the couch, she forgot she tucked her knitting needles in between the seat cushion and the arm of the couch - sharp ends sticking up.

this is the way they should have
been stuck into the couch...

Seems she impaled her arm with a knitting needle.*  Needless to say it bled profusely.   

After she described the injury to me - "It went in about two inches"....she tried to reassure me, "Don't worry, I took care of it....I took a couple pills from the dentist -  and it's not bleeding anymore."

So now I am curious.  "What pills?" I ask. 

Do I really want to know???

"Oh, it's just some pills the dentist gave me when I was going to get my teeth done"

"What? Did you just have something done at the dentist?"

"Well, no, I cancelled the dentist, but he had given me some antibiotics because of my hip replacement - I was supposed to take before the procedure - and after"

"Don't tell me you took the antibiotics"

"No....I didn't ....I only took two..."

"MOM! That's even worse....you never ever take antibiotics unless you take the whole course of it.  And you don't take them unless your doc says to. That's how we get our superbugs....Never mind now you don't have enough antibiotics now for when you have your dental procedure...."

*sigh*

I know I have preached the antibiotics sermon to my entire family....how could this have happened???

Mom and Dad insist on living in the middle of nowhere....too far away from any of our family to go and save them from themselves.

While I am thinking that perhaps they are soon in need of closer supervision ....mom is yelling at dad in the background...."Bill, come quick! The bear is back!! Come look!!"

they can wreck your house
in less than a minute...

To me, she says " There's a small bear at our sliding glass door!"

Back to dad - "Bill! close that door!"

Right about now I am picturing a bear being let into the house, mauling my parents.

Me: "Mom, for Pete's sake, tell dad to keep the door closed.  What the.....  don't you know how dangerous those bears are???"

Mom: "Well that second one is a baby...."

Me: "Mom!!!! The babies are dangerous!! SCARE THEM OFF!!! With noise!!! LOTS of noise!!!  The mother will get angry if she sees you - and then you're toast.... there isn't any window or sliding glass door that is going to stop her....!!!!!"

Mom: "Oh no....they don't bother us....they just come and visit the compost...and the bird feeders...and leave paw prints on the windows...."

Me: "Oh for cripes sake....geezzzz mom....you know you shouldn't compost so close to the house if at all!!! That's rule number ONE!!!  No wonder they come around all the time!!! And take down those feeders!!!! Or at least move them away from the window....!"

Mom: "OK....I gotta go....[Bill! Close that door~!!] Gotta go! Bye..."

Me: "But....MOM!!!!....wait...."

*click*  Mom hangs up.

Honestly. 

I am so stressed, I think I need a propanolol.

More chest pains.

*sigh*

No point in worrying.  By the time I drive up there to their place, they'd be some bear's lunch.

Can't think about it.

It's like having kids.

Unfortunately, I never had kids....so it's all new territory to me.

Sad really.

Funny how things flip.

Mom and Dad used to be the one telling me what to do.....but, only difference is.....

I used to listen.

this is what I think of those bears... cute my butt!
"Knitting needles"

*No, mom wasn't up to date with her tetanus either. I sent her for follow-up with her MD.....if she listened to me.....

Valentine's Message from Grandma to Grandpa 1925

Nurses tend to have a "different" sense of humor.  We all know that.

I suppose that would include my Grandmother.  I never really knew her to tell jokes or kid around much when I was growing up, but there were stories.

I recall looking through an old photo album at her house years ago.  I ran across a picture of my Grandpa with a bicycle in a crowd of young people.  There was a chunk missing in the middle of the photo - as if a person were cut out of it.

"What happened here?" I asked my mother, pointing to the hole in the picture, fearful that one of the little cousins had done it.

"Oh....that was a photo of Grandpa with his old girlfriend..."  Mom laughed. "I guess Grandma didn't like it that he had that photo...and cut her out of the picture..."

I looked at my mother in disbelief. What?? Grandma - jealous??? It was difficult to think of my Grandma having the same emotions as me....

So -  I can just imagine - Grandma in Holland - Grandpa in Canada - the two years they were apart and never seeing each other the entire time while engaged... waiting for Grandma to immigrate - her imagination perhaps running wild and that jealous streak rearing it's ugly head .....

It took weeks to travel from Holland to Alberta, Canada - by boat and then train - and the only trip out to see each other was going to be a permanent one.

To keep their relationship alive,  my Grandma would send letters and little gifts to prod my Grandpa's memory of their love....

Now, I know nurses can have a sick sense of humor and usually the gory stuff is shared with co-workers, not  family members.  Most people don't understand our sense of humor.....

I think that in the Harry Potter books, chocolate frogs were an item to give out -
perhaps that was a tradition way back when....??

But, in 1925 my Midwife RN Grandma decided that it was somehow romantic to send Grandpa a Chocolate Frog with a poem she wrote -  (and here it is - translated from Dutch to English) :

" If one wants to become a nurse, one needs to learn so much,
One sits for days studying with her nose in the books, Practical and Theory and lastly Anatomy,
In so doing we need a frog, and in bisecting it, it gets much bigger,
First under the microscope one clearly sees the movement of blood,
Then one works with the sinews, then the head is cut off to study it some more,
The blood streams between the threads,
With a needle one pricks into the backbone,
Now it's time for the heart to come out, first it must be drained,
And just as the doctor says, "A half hour yet before it stops beating"
But no, even if the heart is laying away from its body
(Even with poor eyesight you can see it constantly moving,)
The brains spill out; you'll be sure it'll be in next years' exams.
If you're a vegetarian don't eat meat, or fish,
Don't wear any fur or muffs, or leather shoes
If you come up against lice or fleas, don't kill 'em you'll pay for it
This whole story is a joke;
This frog is made of chocolate, so just enjoy eating it"

I wonder what my Grandpa thought.....??

Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad! :)

59 years married. Today.

They met on New Years Day on Grouse Mountain 1950. The little photo of my dad, taken that day, is in my mom's photo album, cut in the shape of a heart.

When they married, they could barely afford their wedding.

400 people were in attendance because my dad was a popular church youth pastor. The wedding cake was $15. The wedding dress was borrowed. The wedding feast was sandwiches and desserts that the ladies of the church provided.

Because they couldn't afford to pay for the cleanup, they spent the morning after the wedding doing ALL the dishes all by themselves and cleaning up the hall they used for the reception.

They went for their honeymoon by train to Mount Hood where they spent a week at Timberline Lodge for $46.

They are still together after all that time, living on their own, my dad 82 this year and my mom 80 this year.   

They can't believe the time that has gone by and the fact that they are still alive.  My mom told me on the phone tonight that they thought, when they were that young, they would never live to see 65.

Amazing. Where has time gone? 

Birthmarks

While we are on the topic of skin markings......I have seen some fairly unusual birthmarks in the course of my career. Maps of different countries, famous people and animals.  Yup. People actually proudly display them to me.

So, I decided, hey why not? It's my blog.

I happen to have a birthmark too...on my ankle....it is a "cat's paw". I don't know what it means but it is certainly identifying - if my body were ever to be found and my family needed to know if it was really me.

  My mother gave me this explanation when I was little:   apparently a cat "ran over her tummy" when she was pregnant with me.   I should have suspected that story wasn't true when we saw the toys "Santa" gave us in my mother's shopping bag just before Christmas Day.

Do you have an unusual Birthmark? One in the shape of ... something ??   Or have seen an unusual one?

ID Bracelets: and Babies Mix up

This past spring when I was at my folks' house, I made an interesting discovery.

As I have often done through the years, I was looking through my mom's old photo albums - and I found an old photo of some little girls that I didn't recognize mixed in with some of our own family photos.  Curious, I asked my mother about them.

 "Who are they?" I pointed to the photo of the 2 little girls, one approximately 7, the other maybe age 10.

Mom leaned over and pushed her reading glasses up further on her nose. "Oh....their mom was in the next bed to me when I delivered you. Every Christmas we would send each other photos of our children."

A few minutes later: "So....do you still  keep in touch?" I squinted at the photo, trying to make out the faces.

"No - they moved to Washington State and over the years we lost track of each other."

"So...?...I still don't get it. Why did you keep the photo? " I was curious.

Thoughtful pause.

"Well ....when you were born, you looked so different from the rest of the family, we were certain they switched you at birth - so we kept in touch over the years - just in case....." She shrugged.  "But....after a while it didn't matter."

This was the first time hearing this story.  Incredulous to say the least.

"It didn't matter after a while - you were ours.  We didn't need to keep in touch."

I continued to stare at that old photo.

Yes, I guess it really didn't matter, I thought.

Not anymore.

This was my family, for better or worse, and I am not sure that I would even want to look into Other Possibilities.



I did work for a few years at the hospital at which I was born.   They still had the ancient birth record books. I suppose I could have looked up my name.  Not that it would prove anything.

My mother had given me my little ID necklace with her name on it that they would put on babies in my birth hospital  55 years ago.  The beads were strung onto a very strong thread and then secured around the baby's neck with a blob of lead. (!)

 At the time I worked at that hospital, they were still making the same necklaces - only they were using the wrist/ankle plastic banding method as well.   The beads were more of a souvenir.

 They were reluctant to give up the old tradition -  they still would tie the beads around the neck.  I questioned them on the wisdom of that (or the lack thereof) - since we were instructing our patients never to tie anything around a baby's neck- safety reasons.   

I just handed them to the parents since they weren't used for actual ID-ing.

 I made another one with my name on it.  You can see that I have photo-shopped most of the letters off the white beads so my name is not legible.  It almost makes the beads with letters look like pearls.  The original and actual baby ID necklace I wore as a baby is on the right, the one I made up myself is on the Left.

Whether my ID necklace was put on right at birth....I will never know. My mom was a little foggy at the time...they did the "twilight sleep" back then for deliveries....and babies were whisked away to the nursery.  Mothers were alone in the delivery room back then, so my father wasn't able to confirm that I was the correct baby either.

Oh well.

Still, even though some things are not great in some delivery rooms now,  it's awful to think what they did to mothers back then......to not even know whether the baby handed to you was even yours......and not even feel that you could question the nurses or MD....?

Breast Feeding

I was over at the Man-Nurse Diaries reading some of his past blogposts. I ran across this one - "Dad's Prefer Breast Feeding" and had to chuckle - especially when I looked at his pie chart on why....

It reminded me of a story my mother told me once a while back (she would kill me if she knew I was repeating this, but, uh,  oh well - there isn't anyone I know reading this anyway, except for my girlfriend Jan- and she knows everything about my screwball family so it's gonna be no big news to her!)

 It is one of mom's own breastfeeding stories.

My mother breast fed all of her children - all five of us - in an era that encouraged bottlefeeding - the 1950s.  Or - should I say - actively discouraged breast feeding, so I am quite proud of mom for doing what she thought right when there was so much pressure around her to give it up or made to feel somehow that it was wrong.  It seems that milk production was not a problem for the women in her family.  She took to it really well.

So well, it seems, that at times she sometimes had too much milk - if there is such a problem. (which I don't believe!)  What to do when there was no baby around to feed and there is a little bit of excess and she isn't (for some unknown reason) wanting to pump and save?

So - fast forward to many years later when mom was in a group of women from her church who were discussing breast feeding.  The Pastor's wife had just had her baby and it seems that she had the very same "problem".

Of course she asked my mother, being the experienced and wise sage in the women's group,  what she did when the milk was overflowing and there was no baby to put to the breast.

Mom paused, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, my husband took care of that" she replied sheepishly with a little smile.

 Way to go Mom.   Not the visual I really wanted.

Retrospection

It is quite interesting when one becomes the caregiver of one's parents.   Not just the reversal of roles physically speaking - but often in the emotional areas too.

My dad and laundry, my leg at ther arrow

I was explaining to my mother while ironing dad's shirts, how much I hate ironing. My husband does all the necessary ironing in our house. A well pressed shirt is a thing of beauty to him.


Daily ironing of hundreds of pillowslips - among other chores - at our Family Resort, wrested any passion for ironing from me. We were kept cleaning units, doing the laundry, changing towels, cleaning campground washrooms, serving in the restaurant, preparing tables and doing dishes, etc - from sun up to sundown.
My mother replied - Well when I was 13 your Grandma sent all of us (there were 7 of them) out to work - I ironed all the shirts and did the cleaning at Mr and Mrs DeWitts' - and she kept all the money......we didn't get any of it. A titch of bitterness.

It took me a few more passes with the iron to think that one through.

Gently. Mom, how is that different from the work us girls had to do at the Resort, working from sun up to sundown and not getting paid at all? I was amused at the incongruity - It's not ok when it is done to you by your mother, but ok to do it to it when you are the mother.

I don't harbor any regrets or resentments about the way I grew up because if I hadn't worked as hard as I did, and had the experiences I did - I wouldn't have the work ethic I had, and I would not have appreciated Nursing quite as much.

As an LPN I can remember doing six 8 hour shifts in a row/two off and thinking.....oh, is that all? Only 8 hours of work? and I actually get days off and get to do what I want and meet with friends and have fun? AND - I actually get paid PLUS vacation time as well? I was thrilled. Nursing was a snap compared with working for one's own parents.

There are lots of things to appreciate about nursing. It gives you a different perspective on the life around you. You find yourself bossing around people 3 times your age - and they listen to you. Well, most of the time. You find yourself giving advice to friends and neighbors when requested - and they appreciate and give deference to your opinion. Nursing is still one of those respected professions, even though sometimes it may not seem like it in the micro workings of each day on a hospital unit.

People do trust you more than your average Joe. I have had very personal conversations with people in the community - people I hardly know - just because they discover I am a nurse. They reveal the most intimate details - invited or not. They have wanted to show me body parts and scars they would never have revealed otherwise in public. They talk to me about bowel movements, malfunctioning body parts and injuries - because I am a nurse. Last year as I was waiting for a follow-up visit in ER as a patient, a young mother handed me her sick baby to hold while she went to the restroom. You have to wonder sometimes at this blind confidence.

Most of all, at the risk of sounding schmaltzy, I would not have had the self respect and satisfaction with my life, knowing that I have made life a little better for those in my charge. At this point, I do believe I have contributed more than taken away in this world - in a small way - nothing worth headlines - but it makes me feel content - that I have done my best.

My Mother once told me that she wished she had gone into nursing - and that she always wanted to be a Nurse. This surprised me. She always worked hard - and didn't have it easy in the early days. But I know she is proud of what I chose as my profession....and somehow lives a little vicariously through some of the tidbits I throw her way (FOIPA- the US version of HIPAA - taken into consideration).

I hope my Mom finds some peace with her choices in life, as I have with mine.

Posted by Cartoon Characters at 10:04 AM 2 comments  (couldn’t retrieve  :(  )

Morning convo......................

My mother and I were discussing the methods of food preservation, spurred by one of the lovely blogs I read....I forget which one.....you know who you are......but anyway.....

I was giving her the interesting little nugget of how to keep bananas from going brown too early by breaking the bunch apart, and she decided to contribute one of her own from an old friend of hers:

"Mrs Flapchuck says if you use Saran wrap with your cheese and take all the air out it should keep.....but it has to be a new piece of wrap she says................."

Uh huh, mom. Ok. I won't reuse that wrap that I used last week for the chicken ......
Posted by Cartoon Characters at 9:02 AM


3 comments:
nurseXY said...
Haha, I know this is supposed to be funny, but my mom saves saran wrap. And aluminum foil, and the little styrofoam trays that meat comes on.

May 19, 2010 12:22 PM
A NURSE said...
NXY: does she recycle them or...? I am not sure about the trays that meat come on..... =^@

Actually when I read the story out loud to my mother...she said NO...a NEW PIECE OF WRAP EACH TIME....(as opposed to saving an old wrap from something else...) but since it's MY blog...I ain't changing it! ;) I liked the way my brain FIRST interpreted it...hahaha. Thanks for the read! :)
May 19, 2010 8:28 PM

A NURSE said...
ooohhh! Eureka! I found the blog that mentioned the banana thing....
http://mom-wife-student-nurse.blogspot.com/2010/04/household-tips-for-on-go-nursing.html
Thanks!! :)
May 23, 2010 10:41 AM