Go figure.

I looked back to the last blog post and realize little has changed.

Aunt is still requiring supervision, it's still not a very cold February, and I'm experimenting with another lunch this week. (Shredded steakums cooked with green peppers and mushrooms to be reheated, cheese added and placed in a hoagie roll.). Given last week's disaster of "apples," it has to be better. I did recover with a giant eagle pot pie on Tuesday.

In the adulting saga I can report that all material ties of aunt to her former city have been severed. We sold the house in September. Last week we closed on the lot next to it with the neighbor on the other side. Last night I met with the house emptying auctioneer for the final transaction. She wound up ahead but not by much and the most valuable piece in her house was a card table that had barrel chairs. Go figure.

It's uncertain what's to come ahead. We are going to contact an ElderLaw attorney for help and to make sure we make appropriate financial decisions. Who knew there were attorneys specifically for that? Go figure.

This week is "teach knitting to kids after school" week. They took what was a four week deal and squeezed it into four days, one week. Two of the kids are former participants-the ones who insisted on calling me knitting sensai so there should be some laughs. Go figure.

The psychiatrist says I need to get a sledgehammer and smash some shit. I haven't done it yet because mostly thinking about it makes me feel a little better. Go figure.

Just now in an effort to make this a more interesting blog post I switched nouns and verbs around.

I sold apples, brought barrel chairs for lunch, took a sledgehammer to some knitting kids and knitted an attorney. Go figure.

Tricking trickers.

Today the weather was over me. Or I was under it. Flashy hot chills and sweats. Minor voice loss. Teacher crud. I taught my six half hour classes in a row and came home and went to bed-missing the school Valentine's Day activities. I did score some skittles, chocolates and a notebook paper valentine before coming home. If it's any indication as to how weary I felt, I left the treats at school.

Tricky tricker number one. The last minute valentine lesson plans that do everything you plan on doing with much more complicated regular lessons. Oh hey, let's find some note to add to the roses are red poem. Oh hey, let's add another pattern to it. Oh hey kids, you walked into class with just a poem and now it's a thing. A big cool sounding thing.

Tricky tricker number two. While waiting for my ovaries to spontaneously combust I was in and out of napping. Greathusbandbob did a grocery store run, came home with a sweet note in a card (even though he actually said the opposite of what he meant suggesting that he wasn't happy - he forgot a word or two but I didn't tell him because I knew what he meant and that's how good valentines are- so I guess that is actually tricky trick number two.) Tricky trick number three was when he brought a big bouquet of roses after I thought the valentines card was the surprise. I've photographed and photoshopped it to hide the cluttered state of the kitchen table.

 

Tricky trick number four. Aunt isn't working as hard at her apartment as she did at rehab. Maybe she can't. I don't know. Based on the number of hours they had to spend with her she now has a 24 hr. private aide. She is also asking about denture replacement which will require sedation and the removal of 8 teeth. Neither the nurse nor I think her body is ready for that so tricky trick four is that when she is strong enough to be aide free, we will make the dental appointment for her. Also we will get her doctor to explain why it can't happen right away so she doesn't think the facilities nurse and I are in cahoots.

Tricky trick number five- winter and February is a cold month and dirty dog lying wooly worms. I don't really care if I get snow days. I'm ok with school this year. I just want cold fresh air waking up my face and body. Stupid global warming.

Tricky trick number six and the thing that made me think of the tricky trick theme in the first place. Tricky tricker phone call solicitation. Last night the phone rang. Greathusbandbob answered and said hello. No response. He's always curious so he *69's it and retrieves the number. (At this point if it were me and I didn't recognize the number I would cease to follow any path of inquiry). He calls the number and is told via standard recorded message that this number is no longer in service but if he would like to hear an important message, press 5. Again, curiosity and a higher tolerance for annoying than me, he presses 5 and is asked "do you have car insurance?" That's a pretty high end tricky tricker. Curious cats beware.

Not on the tricky tricker front but instead the sometimes I really like kids front; It's betweeen classes, my door is open, I am quietly playing an EZ but lovely arrangement of Moon River on the piano-like keyboard. A fifth grade boy peeks his head in, gives me the thumbs up and says "Get it, Mrs. Terry." Bwah ha ha ha! Although that could possibly be tricky tricker number seven if I actually made him think I had madd piano skillz.

 

Worth 1,000 words.

I finally made a lunchtime contribution that I didn't end up hating.

 

The 4th and 5th graders in my school are working with our online music textbooks on their chromebooks. It has never been so silent in my room.

 

I was cranky on Monday and secretarysandy brought ice cream for lunch on Tuesday. I might have looked like this.

 

I knitted 18 hats for pre-school plastic bottle snowmen,

 

Knitnightdoctorjustine's dog, Eddie, can play the ukulele.

 

O.k. Not really but this picture is the best.

It's snowing at night and it looks like this outside my bedroom window. And I can't sleep because I want to keep looking at it.

 

Aunt has returned to her apartment but requires new glasses, an aide to assist her 12hrs/day, a special fitting for shoes that will fit her swollen feet and 8 teeth extracted if she wants her dentures replaced. We are not rushing into the dental portion of those needs.

Liza continues to pathetically limp. Most often when she's been sitting on her leg for a time. She's under a doctors care to resolve it.

Everything else is status quo with the hope of a snow day tomorrow.

 

Some K funny

We left songs about trains in kindergarten today, moving on to boats. After we sang Row your boat I asked them to pretend that I got fired from my job for having too much fun with kindergarten. Then I moved close to the ocean. Then I had to get a job. What jobs could I get? Top answers- lighthouse keeper, cruise ship captain, go into a shark cage and take pictures.

My goal was to get them to fisherman so we could sing Charlie over the ocean. I asked "what's a food that there is a lot of near the ocean?" The obvious answer, "ice cream." Hmm. Maybe something you might have for dinner. A tiny voice bleeps "shrimp?" Yes oh yes! How do restaurants get shrimp? "From the ocean." What, do the fish walk up out of the ocean and tell the chef "hey I'd like to be dinner?" Finally we got to where I was trying to go. Whew. Hilarious.

In other news- a finished bunny with clothes for a soon to be big sister. I'm making two. One for her and one to share with the baby sister when she's old enough to play. And as many clothes as possible before March 1st.

 

In other other news- the sticker chart.

 

I started on the 12th so I've scored about 70%. Which is better than last month which was 0%. I didn't start February well but the sticker chart seems to help get past the days I feel defeated. No weight change but my hip joints are no longer as stiff as they were in December. I allowed stickers for 15 minutes last month. Trying to go to 25. It may be what's holding me back. If so I'll go back to 15.

Aunt has left rehab and is back in her apartment. She'll have an aide until she gets a little stronger. She's tired but happy.

The vet prescribed some anti-inflammatories for the puppy's knee. Of course she wouldn't limp while at the vet.

Other than cute k-ers, children have been a little more dreadful than usual. I'm reminded of my lack of patience at the end of last year. But maybe also my plate is full and the kids are in a temporary growing plateau.

Mushroom Philly cheesesteaks and corn dip on Tuesday and Wednesday. Egg salad tomorrow and Friday. Every time I fear we've run our fun lunch gamut, we manage something else.

Sights that made me happy today

This coolant leaking dehumidifier outside rather than in and no longer causing dizziness and light-headedness.

This bench/headboard once at the foot of the bed and likely the cause of puppy's ongoing knee pain. (She used it to jump up to the bed.)

 

The best seltzer there is on sale 12 bottles /$7. The first time I've seen it at the local box store.

 

A stack of aunt's tax documents ready for a meeting with a new tax accountant who does understand email and returning phone calls.

 

Lo Mein for lunch with NurseShelly tomorrow. She's going to make crab Rangoon!

 

Flowers delivered to aunt put together by a former student starting a business at half the cost of online non-personal florists.

 

The puppy (husky/pit) that stopped by aunt's room this afternoon while I was visiting.

 

The women and men who were out in full force yesterday.

 

 

Thoughts but no title

I said it before and I'll say it again-  the best night ever is the Sunday night before a Monday day off. Especially when the laundry is done and the meals are planned.

Last night we had broccoli and shrimp and my goal was to produce a white sauce.  The sauce in a jar tastes, as Aunt puts it, medicinal.  I also think it is strong and stomach churning.

Enter this low fat, low sodium option from the food network.  The pasta water they suggest to add made it a little runny- without it, it was perfect texture and flavor.  Light, creamy, smooth subtle.  We may have found a winner

Finally, I fear that global warming may take its toll on the knitting community.  With temperatures like this, who needs wool sweaters?

And finally another day of decluttering.  I find myself decluttering the same area over and over again- the yarn room.  I need to spend some time being mindful of what is causing the clutter so this ritual can end.

And really finally. The upcoming inauguration worries me so.  It's chaos as can only be created by a narcissistic sociopath with chaos as the final goal.  I hope those senators and congresspeople elected to represent us will do the right thing when the time comes.

Crack me up

Maybe the blog is a coping mechanism. Maybe it's a catalyst for coping mechanisms. As in "I'm going to do this for myself now so I can blog about it later."

Either way-

Yesterday and today I woke up early and did some cardio. Not a ton. Not 10,000 steps. Just five minutes worth of belly dancing so I could feel my hips again and eight minutes of cardio to be sure my heart could still beat.

I went to the teacher friends who are intense worker outers and post about it on the book of face and said "hey thanks. Also I'll be reporting to you each Friday"

Then I went to the pre-k aide Zumba teacher and asked her to make me a sticker chart. She looked at me, tilted her head sideways and then said yes. Later she brought this and I was allowed to choose the kind of stickers I wanted (frogs, stars, smiley faces)-

 

She's the best. Lunchtime nurseShelly asked what my reward was going to be if I earned all my stickers. I paused, puzzled, then said the stickers ARE the reward.

In the category of care taking, greathusbandbob has pneumonia. Lizajane is gimpy again-same leg. Aunt is a getting in and out of bed and in and out of her room step away from leaving rehab and going back to her apartment and the cousins bedbugs have been declared exterminated by Terminex.

Here's a little secret that I don't want going too far. I haven't hated my job lately. It's been a year of adoration and appreciation from kids. Some make it a point to give me a hug in the morning as they enter the building. Others beg for fist bumps and high fives as they are standing in lines in the hallways, and still others wave goodbye in the evenings. They see me and I see them. Being seen is important.

 

Make new friends.

15-20 years ago I taught a couple of kids. Their mom put together the yearbook. She would oft forget my name and I'm fairly certain it was some time before I knew hers. She called me MusicLady. I called her YearbookLady.

She is an amazing seamstress and one year made me one of those fabric stuffed bears with MusicLady embroidered on it. It's the best teacher gift I'd ever gotten up to and since then.

Kids grow. People do stuff. Facebook happens. I attach myself to the generations of the family, adoring the grandbabies, scolding the grown daughter when she makes fun of her mother, loving each other's pets from a distance and exchanging laughs on bad drivers license pictures and menopause.

Last week she messaged and said "I have some of those giant knitting safety pins from my mother, would you like them?"

She has stitch holders. Not really a hot commodity when they are easily replaced by some extra yarn but still. It was a reaching to be friends gesture. Even more so when instead of dropping them off she invited me to her home to get them.

Today I did that and stayed to chat a while with her and her husband. When you aren't originally from the rural community where you teach, it's easy to feel like an outsider. It takes nearly a full generation of being there and knowing the families before you can really become an actual part of the community.

Zumba at the town hall helps. You also realize that when they say "where do you go to church?" They aren't condemning you when you say you're a heathen. It's just a question that's asked not unlike how many siblings do you have. After about 20 years they see that you're not using their lovely community as a stepping stone for a "better school in town" and you, along with them, believe that you are already at the best job in the county.

I'm not idealizing these little communities. I realize that in some instances these are the WV DJT voters. What I did appreciate today was, as someone who's never really felt like a "fitter inner", every now and then you get a little surprise to find out that there are people who would like to invite you over for dinner some time and you are a part of a whole you hadn't considered. And you find yourself smiling the whole drive home.

Happy Birthday to Her

Prime rib at Hot Rods. White almond raspberry birthday cake. And a google chrome book to watch funny cat videos. Best Birthday Ever, she says.

 

 

When you let go of stress...

Your brain finally loosens up enough to crack you up and you find time to-

Take goofy pictures of the dog and post cleverly on Facebook.

 

Make absolutely ridiculous memes using a former students facebook post.

 

And after "the kids" send pics from their NYE celebration,

 

Take pictures of the tv where you are currently binge watching The Tudors and are back in time about 500 years... and yet it seems unsettlingly familiar.

 

 

Bam no Pow, try again.

Th previously posted bird in hand mitts were frogged. Bam Pow in madtosh. It would be a victory if they weren't too small.

 

 

Made some easypeasy potato soup. Pepper is key. Second batch was better than the first.

When it's time to return to the world it's going to be difficult. We've been napping-sleeping-bingeing-repeat for a complete week; taking a break only to go to the grocery store.

 

Waiting.

The thing is, everyone has gone through this with someone in their lives. Benign? Malignant? No signs? Metastasized?

Buddhist meditation and non-attachment becomes laughable. Which is, I suppose the Buddha's joke regarding the human condition. Attachment causes suffering. You can't help but attach. There will always be suffering. (Suffering in the Buddhist definition- greathusbandbob isn't suffering suffering.)

And so one day it is clear that the doctor will announce he has many years ahead and the next day all he says is he will have to fight for his life. And the appointment isn't until January 4th. And every now and then I take a Xanax when I start to get to ahead of myself.

In the meantime, the Gnomes have a friend. (Why does autocorrect always capitalize Gnomes?)

 

Her boobs are uneven but it is my understanding that most are. More realistic. Soon she will be monogamous as this evening I find her a life partner. Until now I thought the Gnomes looked monk-like I'll have to see if there is chemistry.

 

Why "stepson" Ian is the best.

Firstly I was fine and cool with all things surgically related up until the moment pre-op was over and he was headed to op. Ian takes an elephant when he travels to share the trip with his girls. This trip was no exception.

 

He also had a pre-op selfie with dad. Does it count as a selfie if someone else snaps the pic?

 

Shortly after this was taken I was a hot crying mess and he held me close and told me how lucky I am to love someone so much that it makes all the feels.

In the waiting room he pulled up every adorable picture of his cute girls and dog on his computer from when they lived in Switzerland to distract.

Once I settled in to some calmness and knitting (the second Xanax in as many hours) he and brotherJerry went for a walk. There was a vendor entering Mountaineer Field and thus an open gate. Ian began live streaming their break-in which eventually led to a golf/injury cart (with keys). The only thing that stopped them from pulling a Marshawn Lynch (YouTube link) was that greathusbandbob might need them later in the day.

No YouTube upload but a good picture for proof.

 

So kmkat, we are the lucky ones. Surrounded by distractions when there's no use in worrying.

All that being said, greathusbandbob is minus one left kidney, a previously unnoticed hernia and some tissue from the lymph node to check for the bad stuff. While waiting for him to get out of recovery both son Ian and I would turn to look at anyone entering the room, fully believing him indestructible enough to pop out a kidney and come Immediately home to binge on some Netflix.

Son Ian is spending the night in the hospital. When greathusbandbob expressed worry an d concern that I might leave him because he was sick I said "I never liked that left kidney anyway."

 

Making things.

Making things to distraction,
Making Kate Gilbert's Bird in Hand Mitts

Making potato broccoli soup. Yes, I did in fact use a blender. Added some but not enough cayenne pepper.. the blandish flavor tells me why they sometimes add bacon to it. Greathusbandbob's disdain for cheese limited that ingredient which would likely improve it.

Making my fingers work a little better on the ukulele. Kitchen shelf liner is the answer to the smooth back of the uke sliding off my protruding belly.

We are in stasis. I am at peace with stasis for now (because change is still in the distance.). I woke up feeling Bob Marleyish everything's gonna be.... etc.

Stress test his ass.

The following is the update sent today.

We spent the day with Dr. Cardio who, by 4:30 this afternoon, phoned Dr. Kidneyremover. Dr. Knockhimoutsohedoesntwakeup (the one ultimately responsible for Tuesday's cancellation) hasn't jumped in yet but we believe that Dr. Cardio gave him enough info to go forward this time.

Pre-op tomorrow, surgery on Monday.

And because that's how Dr. Cardios operate, we got fair warning of possible heart failure or stroke.

I am at my most absurd when stressed to the max- on beyond crying, I have become Dark-humored Detective Lennie Briscoe from Law and Order.

In better news- estranged daughter of brotherjerry saw the joy and ridiculousness of the Tuesday photo and has become just a little less estranged.

In crack me up a little bit news- I've done the same songs in my winter program for the last five years. You've heard this story- spirituals. So many came up to say "that was the best show ever." I really need to quit worrying about whether the program is the same every year or not.

Stress test my ass. Today should have counted as a pass.

No surgery today.

Dr. Cardio verbally approved surgery last Monday. That is not what was in his written notes. When Dr. Anesthesiologist got the report he did not see approval. No one told Dr. Urology Surgeon or Patient Greathusbandbob. We arrived promptly at 10:45 am and waited patiently to be sent home at 2:30 pm. Everyone blames Friday's pre-op administrators for the snafu but they were unavailable for comment.

With some fancy insurance footwork and a nuclear stress test (the second in as many years), we are rescheduled for the 19th.

I see their secret plot. Make everyone mad enough to overtake the worry. In other related news, today's Christmas vacation countdown calendar present was a bag of marbles so once again, perfection.

Around 1:30 brother and sister in law were getting hungry having eaten nothing all day. It was only after a fifteen minute conversation about whether to go to the cafeteria that I remembered the treats in my bag.

Greathusbandbob, always one to make the best of a bad situation hauled the fam over to the Aunt so she could have a family picture. I'm the only one she's actually related to. The woman in red is Barbara who lives there and whose short term memory is so bad there was never a lull in conversation.

So don't think of it as not losing a kidney with cancer, think of it as a treasured family memory.

 

 

Friends.

First the vacation countdown advent milk carton calendar. Gift number one:

Deodorant. Would that I could hear our inspiration Gerry Brooks say that word.

I won't be here to open most of them but believe I will do so daily just to make each day have a little laugh.

Second- the people that care about you. The kindergarten aides and teachers put together a waiting for surgery hospital goodie bag to keep me busy while we wait tomorrow. I love people.

 

All of the goodies won't fit in one picture but this should keep me good for an hour or two.

 

Third- the people who are in your life who become closer and more connected to you because they've been there done that, and in doing so would move heaven and earth to be helpful

 

Still

Still worried.

Still waiting.

Still scared.

Still medicating. It's not making me sleepy which is how I measure if I am overusing. (That and following the directions on the script)

Still having bouts of hidden tears.

GreatsonIan arrives in the morning tomorrow.

GreatbrotherJerry and GreatsisinlawMerly arrive tomorrow evening.

GreatauntSippy made me laugh and feel comforted today (in spite of pointing out it's how her husband died.)

Surgering surgery on Tuesday.

Winter program at school on Wednesday. Little does the sub know his main purpose that day will be setting up th sound system and tearing it down.

No more school until 2017 after that.

If greathusbandbob weren't such a badass, he would still be waiting for the initial consult originally scheduled for the 15th. As always he gets shit done and doesn't waste any time.

A reading of the results of the CT scan ( with and without contrast) says there's no indication of metastasizing which I know is only preliminary but feels a little promising.

le sigh.

Bring on all of the meds because I feel stuff and worry and that's part of being alive.

Greathusbandbob is having a kidney removed on Tuesday. His son and his brother are coming to town to stand watch and be my helping family.

The winter program is the day after the surgery. I have a sub coming to help set up. Then I will have a sub all the way through until break begins.

It's funny how school works. Most crises are faced with either hush hush gossip or a three page long email explaining every detail.

I opted for middle ground. Tell what I know. The simple facts. If people want to ask more, they can. And sometimes they know you'll just cry so they hug you and move on. As it turns out, one good friend had a similar and positive outcome to share that I had no idea about. And talking to her made me feel better.

I think, minus the outliers, everybody goes through lots of the same hard stuff. If you're willing to put yourself out here first (without appearing to have borderline personality disorder) there is reassurance, empathy and comfort to be found. Also Betty doesn't even know about this blog, but thanks anyway Betty.

Adorable and funny or not

While having a class full of kindergarteners come up to me, trap me behind my keyboard in close quarters and whisper what they asked their classroom elf on a shelf for is, in fact, adorable, the accompanying fever chills and sneezing that was to shortly follow was not. Zicam work your magic. I know zicam is not science but I'm hoping for a placebo effect.

This adorable has no side effects-

 

This window of pointing Gnomes is what I see when walking out of the bedroom. So as long as it's not zero dark thirty, I laugh a little when I wake up.

In the category of make Mondays better I'll be making homemade mac and cheese and hard boiled eggs for lunches next week. If this recipe has the same effect as the last two (as in the sight of food prepared by me made me physically squeamish) then I give up. It will be PB&J the rest of the year.

Also there is this- by pernciple Gerry Brooks

There are four of us who will be making our nine day milk carton advent calendar next week and begin opening them on December 12. Should make for some laughing.

In other medical news, aunt continues to walk, cousin is no longer eligible for Medicair, only Medicaid (thank you Pennsylvania) and greathusbandbob has appointments on Monday and Wednesday next week for some calcification in his heart and a mass growing on a kidney. For now we are pretending it's all in a days doctor appointment because what's the point of worrying.