Today I visited the Federal Medical Center (FMC) with our dog Dog. The FMC is hospital into which ill, mainly desperately ill, federal prisoners from all over the country are sent. FMCs take in all level of prisoners from low level non-violent offenders to supermax level felons. As a result, the security at the FMC is the maximum possible.
There are only 6 FMCs in the country, one being in Butner, NC which close to where we live. When locals here think of the prison in Butner, they think of the minimum security prison where among others, ‘white collar’ criminals such as Bernie Madoff are sequestered from humanity for 150+ years. The staff at the FMC call these local low security prison inmates campers, which for some reasons struck me as sort of funny in a sort of not-funny way. Perhaps like day camp, only free. And less fun. And you don’t get to go home on Friday. But this isn’t where I went; I was at the FMC, a nearby but totally separate place.
I am affiliated with a local professional therapy dog program run by a person who is truly kind soul with a pragmatic approach to life. In addition to the typical therapy dog program stuff, like visiting sick kids in the hospital and visiting nursing homes, he has been trying diligently to develop a ‘cell dog’ program whereby inmates raise and train shelter dogs to become more adoptable, and perhaps to even become service dogs. Search the internet for examples of these programs. They are truly in all ways a win-win proposition. However, the paperwork to develop this – and gaining the trust of the warden on down – is a long process. In the meantime, I have repeatedly expressed a high level of interest in taking Dog to do pet therapy at a prison. It must be the do-gooder in me, but I truly believe that there is no one so terrible that they shouldn’t get the pleasure of petting a dog. I’m sure that some would disagree with me, but of those I would ask them to follow me metaphorically through my journey today.
To get in, I could only bring a single car key and a form of photo ID, all else had to be left in the car. I filled out a number of forms and log books while Dog sat patiently and happily, being petted by the social worker who coordinated my visit. I went through a metal detector, noting that the X-ray screener type device was used even for a single sheet of paper to pass through into the prison. After I cleared the initial security, we visited a number of the administrative staff on the 1st floor. Perhaps this was to let me get used to the idea of being in a maximum security prison facility. Or perhaps they just really did want to meet Dog. Either way, everyone was smitten with Dog.
There were several more layers of security to get in, and yes, the doors clang. Loudly. We went to the hospital floors after we got through all of the clanging doors. Right off the bat, there were a number of inmates in the hallways, mostly in wheelchairs. We visited the men in the hallways and went individually to the rooms of patients too ill to be upright in a chair. Dog is what we call a ‘nudger’ – he will push his head up against you to signal his overwhelming desire to be petted. He nudged nearly everyone, and won over even those who initially expressed no interest in petting him. In one room, Dog – bless his heart – carefully jumped up, unprompted, and put his paws ever so gently on the edge of the bed of one inmate so that he could at least see him and perhaps reach over him to pet him. I do not know how, but honestly, Dog just knows who needs him. He really, truly does. I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t see it over and over again with my very own eyes. He laid his head down on this man’s bed so that he could reach him, and the inmate reached over with obvious effort to try to touch Dog and could just barely reach the top of his head. I have no doubt that Dog sensed a deep need within this man, and Dog didn’t know what he had done before coming to be in that bed. He just wanted to give him a small piece of happiness, a tiny ray of sun, in an otherwise sad existence made all the worse for being near death alone in prison. I fervently hope that no matter what he did in the past that one of his last memories is of a beautiful gentle dog with his head on his lap.
Some inmates appeared to be very healthy, which confused me until I learned that they were low security inmates who became helpers to those most ill. From what I understood, these inmate helpers essentially perform nursing care and live on the floor with the patients for whom they care. These inmates particularly touched my heart because although there must be benefits to being on the hospital floors, perhaps a bigger room or more freedom to roam about – I don’t know – it was clear that regardless, they really cared for ‘their’ patients. One inmate helper propped up ‘his’ very ill inmate who was on a ventilator, holding him very gently, placing his hand gently on Dog so as to pat him on the head. The inmate, who is very near death, smiled every so slightly which caused me to fight off tears.
One of these helper inmates was so lonely and needy that it practically radiated out of every pore. He volunteered to keep Dog in his room if we needed to eat lunch or take a break, which is of course against the rules. If there were any possible way I could leave Dog there with him for an hour, a day, a few days, I would do it in a heartbeat. His hunger for the affection of dog was palpable and make my heart ache in concert with his loneliness.
Throughout my visit I was struck by the level of respect given to the inmates by the staff. All men were called by their last names preceded by “Mr.”. Based on what I saw – albeit a short time period – I believe that the people at the FMC see themselves as in the business of healing and rehabilitation, not necessarily in the business of punishment. All told, I spent about an hour on the floors all total and about an hour talking about logistics, meeting the administrative staff and clearing security.
It was an emotional visit. It was immensely satisfying to see my dog help so many people, even those that some deem unworthy. I am so proud that I trained him so well, that he is well behaved enough to do these things. But the credit isn't due only to me, we are so lucky that we found a dog with an innately gentle spirit who sees and loves the good in all of us, he somehow sees the part that makes us human. Dog recognizes need by instinct and responds to that need the best way that he knows how, by looking up with those giant brown eyes and by burying that soft poofy white head into a lap.
The day’s visit was also tremendously sad. Whatever these men had done, they were dying or were ill, more or less alone, in prison. Many of them will die there. At least a few will have died by the time I return next*. Some may have absolutely no one who cares if they live or die, and in fact, some may have those who fervently await their death as reparation for the bad things they did during life. This set of conflicting emotions were intense as I drove home and are spilling over as I type this.
No matter what anyone would say, no matter what it would seem, life is not black and white. There isn’t a bad person and a good person. Life is grayscale, a continium. Today Dog brought some white to the black and white scale that exists in these mens’ souls. For that, I am proud, sad, and happy. And because of that, I will be back every Monday. Count on it.
*update since I wrote this, about 1/2 of the inmates I saw the first time had died by the time I returned the next week. The social worker said to expect that, but it still was a shock.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Please fax to:
Today in the mail I received a form to fill out. Its 14 pages, so its a helluva a form. At any rate, the letter with it says, approximately:
Dear Person With Nothing Better To Do,
Attached is a form. It is really long. It is repetitive and much of it does not even apply to your situation. Despite this, you must fill it out. Yes, all of it, yes it is 14 pages long (excluding instructions, warnings, precuations and legal liability waiver disclaimers on pages (i) - (iv).
Once it is completed, please fax this form to 1-666-FAX-HERE. It is extremely important that you fax this to the correct number, so again, please ensure that you fax this form to 1-666-FAX-DIFFERENT#. If this form is sent to the wrong fax number, your claim will not be processed and there will be a substantial delay on the processing of your claim.
With Our Best Regards,
The Company Who Hopes You'll Give Up and Just Not Send It In
Then the best part - on the form itself is yet a third different fax number that is listed as the fax number to use. And I'm still wondering if the claim will not be processed or if it will be but there will be a delay in processing it. So what do I do? Fax to all 3 numbers and then they'll say that I have multiple claims and delete them all? Flip a 3 sided coin and send to the winning phone number?
I wish I was kidding.
Dear Person With Nothing Better To Do,
Attached is a form. It is really long. It is repetitive and much of it does not even apply to your situation. Despite this, you must fill it out. Yes, all of it, yes it is 14 pages long (excluding instructions, warnings, precuations and legal liability waiver disclaimers on pages (i) - (iv).
Once it is completed, please fax this form to 1-666-FAX-HERE. It is extremely important that you fax this to the correct number, so again, please ensure that you fax this form to 1-666-FAX-DIFFERENT#. If this form is sent to the wrong fax number, your claim will not be processed and there will be a substantial delay on the processing of your claim.
With Our Best Regards,
The Company Who Hopes You'll Give Up and Just Not Send It In
Then the best part - on the form itself is yet a third different fax number that is listed as the fax number to use. And I'm still wondering if the claim will not be processed or if it will be but there will be a delay in processing it. So what do I do? Fax to all 3 numbers and then they'll say that I have multiple claims and delete them all? Flip a 3 sided coin and send to the winning phone number?
I wish I was kidding.
Saturday, August 1, 2009
Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom Mom!!!!!!!!
I have been sitting out on the back porch for several hours. Offspring and Best Friend were out in the field playing some sort of ball game. I went in to get something from the bedroom when I heard approaching the house, then in the house:
MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!!!!!!!
Alarmed, I ran out to find out what was the matter and I saw his face - plastered with the biggest grin and full of excitement, his eyes wide open:
MOM!!! IT'S THE ICE CREAM TRUCK MOM! THE ICE CREAM TRUCK!!!!!!!! QUICK!!! WE NEED SOME MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I never have cash on me (because I tend to spend it if I have it), so I rummaged about until I found Offspring's piggy bank, which is actually a jar that is painted with a pumpkin for Halloween, and dug out $3 worth of quarters. He kept saying hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry mom!!!jumping from foot to foot. I assured him that between a) Best Friend standing out there holding the truck and b) the man seeing me - a mother being held hostage to the sounds of the ice cream truck - on the steps digging out m0ney, that the truck would not leave, that the ice cream truck man is a savvy salesperson and would never leave such a sweet situation.
After I handed him the quarters, he sprinted as if his life depended on it back out to the field where Best Friend was looking back like "HURRY UP DUDE!" and they both got popsicles. They were tres pleased with themselves and ate them with a substantial amount of glee.
Offspring has never actually bought ice cream from an ice cream truckbecause they freak me out, but I decided (apparently in the heat of the moment) that it would be ok to purchase a sealed confectionary item while they were both in plain sight. And now I'll let him in the future because he was SO excited, in the way that only an 8 year old can be excited. I told him to go throw away the stick when he washed his hands, but he said "no, mom - I'm going to keep this stick forever. It is my first ice-cream-truck-ice-cream EVER!" with the hugest most happy look on his face.
I love my kid. He makes my world happy.
But now I owe him $3.
MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!MOM!!!!!!!
Alarmed, I ran out to find out what was the matter and I saw his face - plastered with the biggest grin and full of excitement, his eyes wide open:
MOM!!! IT'S THE ICE CREAM TRUCK MOM! THE ICE CREAM TRUCK!!!!!!!! QUICK!!! WE NEED SOME MONEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I never have cash on me (because I tend to spend it if I have it), so I rummaged about until I found Offspring's piggy bank, which is actually a jar that is painted with a pumpkin for Halloween, and dug out $3 worth of quarters. He kept saying hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry mom!!!jumping from foot to foot. I assured him that between a) Best Friend standing out there holding the truck and b) the man seeing me - a mother being held hostage to the sounds of the ice cream truck - on the steps digging out m0ney, that the truck would not leave, that the ice cream truck man is a savvy salesperson and would never leave such a sweet situation.
After I handed him the quarters, he sprinted as if his life depended on it back out to the field where Best Friend was looking back like "HURRY UP DUDE!" and they both got popsicles. They were tres pleased with themselves and ate them with a substantial amount of glee.
Offspring has never actually bought ice cream from an ice cream truckbecause they freak me out, but I decided (apparently in the heat of the moment) that it would be ok to purchase a sealed confectionary item while they were both in plain sight. And now I'll let him in the future because he was SO excited, in the way that only an 8 year old can be excited. I told him to go throw away the stick when he washed his hands, but he said "no, mom - I'm going to keep this stick forever. It is my first ice-cream-truck-ice-cream EVER!" with the hugest most happy look on his face.
I love my kid. He makes my world happy.
But now I owe him $3.
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Things never work out the way you want with a PCA
I could just KILL Wheeler! The story ....
M (our new PCA) came over yesterday and was here for 3.5 hours, and I spent all of that time showing him how to do range of motion, how to shower him, how to do cathing/bag draining, and bowel care. Much to this kid's credit, he didn't flinch at all and I asked him very point blank if he was OK with the bowel stuff, he said absolutely. In fact, he wants to be a nurse - how perfect for all of us eh? He did a great job, was very enthusiastic and seemed to be a nice kid.
Today, Offspring and I went to a water park about 1.5 hours away and I left Wheeler here with M, the new PCA. What a concept - I could GO somewhere and STAY there and HAVE FUN with my kid!!!!! So that was GREAT, just amazing. As I have always done for PCAs in the past, I left a list of things to do, which were: range of motion (30 mins), feed him breakfast (30 mins), walk the dogs (10 mins), straighten up the back patio (10 mins tops), do the dishes (15 mins), sweep the downstairs hardwood floors (15 mins) and keep the laundry moving - I had about 6 loads to do. So, when I came home at 5:30 - having left at 8:45 am, I noticed the back porch was clean ... yay! I'd told him this was the lowest priority, so I knew everything else got done, right? Walked in, lots of folded laundry (although less than I expected), great. I walked to the kitchen to see my sparkling clean sink with allllll the dishes done .... ummmmm, no.
Kitchen and sink exactly as I'd left them 8.75 hours before, floors not sweeped (not that I was counting the time .... eh hum... $10, $20, .... $80.75 ). Hmmmmmm. Maybe there was a problem? I walk in the bedroom, they are both sitting there watching TV. Wheeler was in bed, which I expected, I hadn't shown M how to get Wheeler up and use the leg bag yet. But there was alot not done and I was pretty irked. But, I didn't let it show because I didn't know what was going on and it really was more or less his first day, so I waited until he left to ask Wheeler what the ehch-ee-double-hockey-sticks M did today since he could have done everything I'd asked in 2 hours tops, other than laundry, which is just 10 mins of folding every 45-60 mins as things dry/wash.
"Ohhhhh." Wheeler says. "I guess its because I sat and talked to him for a few hours, and then we got talking about horror movies and vampire flicks, so I told him to turn on True Blood" (on HBO on demand) "and we watched almost 3 episodes."
AS IN YOU PAID HIM TO WATCH TV FOR 3 HOURS?????????
"Oh. Ummmm, well, yeah, I guess I did".
OK, I would like to KILL Wheeler about now!!!! So, I told Wheeler that from here on out, I would show him the list I leave for M, and if and only if, 100% of the things on the list are complete can M dilly dally and chat for a little bit only - and that M needs to take initiative to find other things to do if he finishes everything I ask him to do.
BUT .... with all that being said, it did work out well in terms that I was able to leave and go have fun with my kid all day. It just irked me because I was soooo looking forward to a clean house when I got back. So I'll focus on those good parts and I'm sure it will improve from here.
Edited to add two days later: Hse was supposed to come Saturday at 11 am to get Wheeler showered, up, etc. At 11:47 pm on Friday night he called me. I'm very sure he thought it would go to my voicemail, but I am a night owl and nearly always answer my phone even at 1 am. So, I picked up, he hemmed and hahhhed for a second then asked me what time he was supposed to come over tomorrow (Sat). I said 11 am. Then he said that he had been soooooo sick, all day long, and could he come later? He said he'd been at his mom's all day, he'd been throwing up, etc etc.
Bullshit. He was drunk. He was slurring his words and was quite obviously soused.
So I said that if he was sick, do not come over because I don't want him to spread anything to us, that is a cardinal rule for PCAs - do NOT show up for work if you are sick. I hung up and was uber mad. I HATE BEING LIED TO. Even if he hadn't been obviously drunk when he called, calling at midnight to your employer to ask when you are to work the next day - which was his second day on the job???? How hard is that to remember? And he couldn't have called earlier in the day if he was truly sick? Yeah right. I was pissed.
To call his bluff, I called his mom the next day (I have her number, he lives there) and left a message to see "how M was feeling, as I know he was feeling sick all day and I'm worried about him". She didn't return the call. But then M called today and said unsolicited that actually, it was his sister who took care of him, that he was at her place, not his mom's, as he had said the day before. Hmmmmmmmmm. Me thinks Mommy asked M about his "illness" and Ma had to proactively tell me another story in case Mom calls me back.
I am just disillusioned. I was really hoping this would work out, but I think it will be just like all the other times with crapola PCAs. And so I'll be back to square zero on help.
Oh well.
M (our new PCA) came over yesterday and was here for 3.5 hours, and I spent all of that time showing him how to do range of motion, how to shower him, how to do cathing/bag draining, and bowel care. Much to this kid's credit, he didn't flinch at all and I asked him very point blank if he was OK with the bowel stuff, he said absolutely. In fact, he wants to be a nurse - how perfect for all of us eh? He did a great job, was very enthusiastic and seemed to be a nice kid.
Today, Offspring and I went to a water park about 1.5 hours away and I left Wheeler here with M, the new PCA. What a concept - I could GO somewhere and STAY there and HAVE FUN with my kid!!!!! So that was GREAT, just amazing. As I have always done for PCAs in the past, I left a list of things to do, which were: range of motion (30 mins), feed him breakfast (30 mins), walk the dogs (10 mins), straighten up the back patio (10 mins tops), do the dishes (15 mins), sweep the downstairs hardwood floors (15 mins) and keep the laundry moving - I had about 6 loads to do. So, when I came home at 5:30 - having left at 8:45 am, I noticed the back porch was clean ... yay! I'd told him this was the lowest priority, so I knew everything else got done, right? Walked in, lots of folded laundry (although less than I expected), great. I walked to the kitchen to see my sparkling clean sink with allllll the dishes done .... ummmmm, no.
Kitchen and sink exactly as I'd left them 8.75 hours before, floors not sweeped (not that I was counting the time .... eh hum... $10, $20, .... $80.75 ). Hmmmmmm. Maybe there was a problem? I walk in the bedroom, they are both sitting there watching TV. Wheeler was in bed, which I expected, I hadn't shown M how to get Wheeler up and use the leg bag yet. But there was alot not done and I was pretty irked. But, I didn't let it show because I didn't know what was going on and it really was more or less his first day, so I waited until he left to ask Wheeler what the ehch-ee-double-hockey-sticks M did today since he could have done everything I'd asked in 2 hours tops, other than laundry, which is just 10 mins of folding every 45-60 mins as things dry/wash.
"Ohhhhh." Wheeler says. "I guess its because I sat and talked to him for a few hours, and then we got talking about horror movies and vampire flicks, so I told him to turn on True Blood" (on HBO on demand) "and we watched almost 3 episodes."
AS IN YOU PAID HIM TO WATCH TV FOR 3 HOURS?????????
"Oh. Ummmm, well, yeah, I guess I did".
OK, I would like to KILL Wheeler about now!!!! So, I told Wheeler that from here on out, I would show him the list I leave for M, and if and only if, 100% of the things on the list are complete can M dilly dally and chat for a little bit only - and that M needs to take initiative to find other things to do if he finishes everything I ask him to do.
BUT .... with all that being said, it did work out well in terms that I was able to leave and go have fun with my kid all day. It just irked me because I was soooo looking forward to a clean house when I got back. So I'll focus on those good parts and I'm sure it will improve from here.
Edited to add two days later: Hse was supposed to come Saturday at 11 am to get Wheeler showered, up, etc. At 11:47 pm on Friday night he called me. I'm very sure he thought it would go to my voicemail, but I am a night owl and nearly always answer my phone even at 1 am. So, I picked up, he hemmed and hahhhed for a second then asked me what time he was supposed to come over tomorrow (Sat). I said 11 am. Then he said that he had been soooooo sick, all day long, and could he come later? He said he'd been at his mom's all day, he'd been throwing up, etc etc.
Bullshit. He was drunk. He was slurring his words and was quite obviously soused.
So I said that if he was sick, do not come over because I don't want him to spread anything to us, that is a cardinal rule for PCAs - do NOT show up for work if you are sick. I hung up and was uber mad. I HATE BEING LIED TO. Even if he hadn't been obviously drunk when he called, calling at midnight to your employer to ask when you are to work the next day - which was his second day on the job???? How hard is that to remember? And he couldn't have called earlier in the day if he was truly sick? Yeah right. I was pissed.
To call his bluff, I called his mom the next day (I have her number, he lives there) and left a message to see "how M was feeling, as I know he was feeling sick all day and I'm worried about him". She didn't return the call. But then M called today and said unsolicited that actually, it was his sister who took care of him, that he was at her place, not his mom's, as he had said the day before. Hmmmmmmmmm. Me thinks Mommy asked M about his "illness" and Ma had to proactively tell me another story in case Mom calls me back.
I am just disillusioned. I was really hoping this would work out, but I think it will be just like all the other times with crapola PCAs. And so I'll be back to square zero on help.
Oh well.
Friday, May 22, 2009
21 years since Wheeler broke his neck
May 22, 1988
May 22, 1989
May 22, 1990
May 22, 1991
May 22, 1992
May 22, 1993
May 22, 1994
May 22, 1995
May 22, 1996
May 22, 1998
May 22, 1999
May 22, 2000
May 22, 2001
May 22, 2002
May 22, 2003
May 22, 2004
May 22, 2005
May 22, 2006
May 22, 2007
May 22, 1989
May 22, 1990
May 22, 1991
May 22, 1992
May 22, 1993
May 22, 1994
May 22, 1995
May 22, 1996
May 22, 1998
May 22, 1999
May 22, 2000
May 22, 2001
May 22, 2002
May 22, 2003
May 22, 2004
May 22, 2005
May 22, 2006
May 22, 2007
May 22, 2008
May 22, 2009
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Mornings with me - talking not recommended
I hate to talk in the morning. I really do. I hate mornings in general, but speaking in the morning is incredibly annoying. Either direction: I hate being spoken to and I hate speaking. Wheeler, on the other hand, talks alot in the morning. Its good in a way because he gets Offspring up and moving, and Offspring is talkative in the morning, so they talk to each other. But the other day, Wheeler was hungry when he woke up. And here went our conversation, approximately....
What do we have for breakfast?
(silence)
Do we have anything to eat?
muhhhahhhhpft
Do we have any cereal?
rumphfff
Yes, we do?
mmmmm mmmmm
What kind?
reareeeerohs (said without opening my mouth)
Regular?
nuhhuh
Honey nut?
(silence ... hoping he'll think I died, call 911 and ask them to bring breakfast on the way to pick up my dead body)
Honey nut?
Fwwwwwwwwwuittteee msmmmmaaaqqqffffttt
Hmmmm. Do we have eggs?
Yeah (with a snarl)
Oatmeal?
YES!
Toast?
(silence)
Well, when you are done getting Offspring's breakfast could I get a bowl of cereal?
(silence) .... thinking, geez, if you were gonna eat cereal all along, why the 3rd degree about all other possible breakfast options?
Hello?
YES!!!!!! I heard you, whatever. Geesh.
OK.
(glare)
What?
Do I look like a short order cook?! ..... (pause).... Wait. Don't answer that.
What do we have for breakfast?
(silence)
Do we have anything to eat?
muhhhahhhhpft
Do we have any cereal?
rumphfff
Yes, we do?
mmmmm mmmmm
What kind?
reareeeerohs (said without opening my mouth)
Regular?
nuhhuh
Honey nut?
(silence ... hoping he'll think I died, call 911 and ask them to bring breakfast on the way to pick up my dead body)
Honey nut?
Fwwwwwwwwwuittteee msmmmmaaaqqqffffttt
Hmmmm. Do we have eggs?
Yeah (with a snarl)
Oatmeal?
YES!
Toast?
(silence)
Well, when you are done getting Offspring's breakfast could I get a bowl of cereal?
(silence) .... thinking, geez, if you were gonna eat cereal all along, why the 3rd degree about all other possible breakfast options?
Hello?
YES!!!!!! I heard you, whatever. Geesh.
OK.
(glare)
What?
Do I look like a short order cook?! ..... (pause).... Wait. Don't answer that.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Air show
We went up to the Langley Air Show this past weekend and it was really fun. We stay at his dad's place when we go up, they live very close to Langley AFB, and we just love them to pieces, so its always a nice time. This year Pappy and Gma E didn't go with us because Pappy is still very tired from chemo. While he is officially in remission now, the last 7 months took alot out of him and he is still doing maintenance chemo every 2 months.
As we were driving up, we stopped to eat at Smithfield BBQ in Zebulon. I love Smithfield, although ever since one opened very close to our house, I am kinda tired of it. But, we hadn't gone there in a long time, plus, I can eat there if I can convince them to LEAVE THE HUSHPUPPIES OFF MY PLATE, so that's where we stopped for lunch. Dog, as always, caused a stir. A young guy working there came up and said "Is she part Bichon Frise?". Really. That's what he said. I swear. I tried really, really, really hard not to laugh (at least until he was out of sight). Offspring was being very charming, and Wheeler struck up a conversation with a really nice older couple since a table over. In the spirit of a its a small world after all, turns out she had worked at vocational rehabilitation for the state, which is where Wheeler received many benefits, such as his computer programming education. They didn't cross paths there directly, but the two of them have in a common a friend. They own a horse farm and it would be really nice to look them up and take the dogs out there to run.
As we were driving after lunch, I can't remember the context, but Offspring was explaining a situation in which he was exasperated. Except it came out as exhausterated. It was very funny. When the word is bigger than your tongue, it can be hard to spit it out. Which also reminds me of another funny thing he said the other day. He was brushing his teeth downstairs, and as such, he had to use my NON CHILD toothpaste, meaning, it does not taste like some godforsaken flavor like bubblegum. I warned him the toothpaste was not his godforsaken bubblegum flavor, but rather mint (which I love and he hates .... is he *really* my child??? I LOVE mint anything). He was cool with that, although he grimaced and groaned whilst brushing, much the same as I do when forced to brush with godforsaken bubblegum toothpaste. Afterwards, I handed him a little cup of mouthwash to rinse. He put it in his mouth, swished it around while his eyes got bigger and bigger and bigger. He spit it out eventually and said "was that some kind of sick joke?!?!?!". It finally occurred to me he meant that the mouthrinse was mint, not kid's godforsaken bubblegum Act. It struck my funny bone, and I couldn't stop giggling about it. Offspring was less amused however and stalked off with his hands on his hips glaring at me. It still makes me laugh to even write it out!
Back to the air show, we knew from last year that it would be a very long, very hot day. It decided this year to go directly from winter to summer, do not pass spring, don't forget to collect your sunscreen. We brought chairs to sit in, well, at least for me and Offspring, Wheeler has a permanent place to sit unfortunately. But we don't really sit around in one place at the air show, and I was afraid of the chairs getting stolen, or more likely, me forgetting them when we left. Plus they were rather heavy and the line was reallllllllllllllllly long to get in. So I chucked the chairs back in and at the suggestion of Wheeler, hoisted out the manual chair that we keep in the back of the van at all times for emergencies. I plopped Offspring in it, threw my purse on the back of it and off we went. I realized that I had the sympathies of every single person there because I had a disabled husband AND a disabled child. Except, I really don't. So practically every person we saw I made a point of saying the manual chair was a stroller of sorts. Except when we went through the gate, I didn't want them to confiscate the manual chair, so I just told Offspring to sit down and stay quiet.
Even though the line was honestly the longest line I've ever seen in my life for anything, it went so quickly. I love military precision, these dudes know how to get 100,000 people from point A to point B quickly and efficiently. Although when we were about 2/3 of the way to the front of the line, a couple of GIs came up and pulled us out of line to go around front and bypass security. So my worrying was for nothing, we sailed right through. They just said "do you have anything sharp?" to which we said "no" and they waived us through without searching and without me or Offspring going through the metal detector. I swear, the best terrorists would be disabled terrorists or people accompanying disabled people. You can get away with bringing anything anywhere if you're in a chair.
When we first got in we took a tour of a nifty hospital that is made entirely from stuff you can fit in (alot of) backpacks. They can parachute in from anywhere and be fully set up as a hospital, including isolation units, hazmat cleaning, an ICU, 2 operating rooms, patient wards and even a dental chair within 48 hours. They set it up in 18 hours in the practice run setting it up for the air show. We got a personal tour from the guy in charge of setting it up and it was really interesting. We also found that the hospital is fully air conditioned and the ICU is really, really cold. So we went there for a break at one point to get Wheeler out of the sun, and I needed the break too. I was pushing around a kid in a chair don't forget!
At the very end of the day, the Thunderbirds flew and it was verrrrrrrrrrrrrry cool. But part way through it, we were all overheating, Dog too, and so we decided to finish watching the show in the shade. Wheeler moved to back up and then stopped. He said "Look". I turned and looked. And saw that the cup for his chin control has melted. M.E.L.T.E.D. It was turned inside out and oozing down the sides. I shit you not!!! My eyes got as big as saucers and I said "well that's a new one!". He fiddled about for awhile and managed to be able to drive it anyway, but it was pretty sketchy. He had very little control because he had no traction on his chin, and so it was a scary roll out of there. We managed to get to the van and get back to his dad's despite it all (major props to Wheeler, that man can roll with the punches, that's for sure). His dad took a suction cup intended for sticking on a window to hang things from, cut off the metal piece, ran a drill through the base of it then mounted it in place of the melted cup (which looks like the chin cup knob here, 3rd thing down). Then we covered it with bandaids because the plastic was super slick, and that's how it remains now. We are trying to get another one ordered. I'm trying to decide if the cost will be in the 2 or 3 digits. My guess is $76. Anybody else want to guess? Whoa, I just went to the link to make sure I linked it correctly and the prices are at the bottom. $79. I am GOOD. Just call me the just-how-much-will-you-get-screwed-out-of-because-its-technically-a-medical-item whisperer.
Regardless of the melted chin cup, it was a very fun day. Offspring got to meet the F-22 Raptor pilots who flew that day (and they all were so young, omg I am old). He got an autographed patch, an autographed photo and an autographed hat. He was really excited about meeting the pilots, which was fun to see. He's usually so nonchalant about everything (exception: Star Wars) that I liked seeing him truly excited about something constructive.
As we were driving up, we stopped to eat at Smithfield BBQ in Zebulon. I love Smithfield, although ever since one opened very close to our house, I am kinda tired of it. But, we hadn't gone there in a long time, plus, I can eat there if I can convince them to LEAVE THE HUSHPUPPIES OFF MY PLATE, so that's where we stopped for lunch. Dog, as always, caused a stir. A young guy working there came up and said "Is she part Bichon Frise?". Really. That's what he said. I swear. I tried really, really, really hard not to laugh (at least until he was out of sight). Offspring was being very charming, and Wheeler struck up a conversation with a really nice older couple since a table over. In the spirit of a its a small world after all, turns out she had worked at vocational rehabilitation for the state, which is where Wheeler received many benefits, such as his computer programming education. They didn't cross paths there directly, but the two of them have in a common a friend. They own a horse farm and it would be really nice to look them up and take the dogs out there to run.
As we were driving after lunch, I can't remember the context, but Offspring was explaining a situation in which he was exasperated. Except it came out as exhausterated. It was very funny. When the word is bigger than your tongue, it can be hard to spit it out. Which also reminds me of another funny thing he said the other day. He was brushing his teeth downstairs, and as such, he had to use my NON CHILD toothpaste, meaning, it does not taste like some godforsaken flavor like bubblegum. I warned him the toothpaste was not his godforsaken bubblegum flavor, but rather mint (which I love and he hates .... is he *really* my child??? I LOVE mint anything). He was cool with that, although he grimaced and groaned whilst brushing, much the same as I do when forced to brush with godforsaken bubblegum toothpaste. Afterwards, I handed him a little cup of mouthwash to rinse. He put it in his mouth, swished it around while his eyes got bigger and bigger and bigger. He spit it out eventually and said "was that some kind of sick joke?!?!?!". It finally occurred to me he meant that the mouthrinse was mint, not kid's godforsaken bubblegum Act. It struck my funny bone, and I couldn't stop giggling about it. Offspring was less amused however and stalked off with his hands on his hips glaring at me. It still makes me laugh to even write it out!
Back to the air show, we knew from last year that it would be a very long, very hot day. It decided this year to go directly from winter to summer, do not pass spring, don't forget to collect your sunscreen. We brought chairs to sit in, well, at least for me and Offspring, Wheeler has a permanent place to sit unfortunately. But we don't really sit around in one place at the air show, and I was afraid of the chairs getting stolen, or more likely, me forgetting them when we left. Plus they were rather heavy and the line was reallllllllllllllllly long to get in. So I chucked the chairs back in and at the suggestion of Wheeler, hoisted out the manual chair that we keep in the back of the van at all times for emergencies. I plopped Offspring in it, threw my purse on the back of it and off we went. I realized that I had the sympathies of every single person there because I had a disabled husband AND a disabled child. Except, I really don't. So practically every person we saw I made a point of saying the manual chair was a stroller of sorts. Except when we went through the gate, I didn't want them to confiscate the manual chair, so I just told Offspring to sit down and stay quiet.
Even though the line was honestly the longest line I've ever seen in my life for anything, it went so quickly. I love military precision, these dudes know how to get 100,000 people from point A to point B quickly and efficiently. Although when we were about 2/3 of the way to the front of the line, a couple of GIs came up and pulled us out of line to go around front and bypass security. So my worrying was for nothing, we sailed right through. They just said "do you have anything sharp?" to which we said "no" and they waived us through without searching and without me or Offspring going through the metal detector. I swear, the best terrorists would be disabled terrorists or people accompanying disabled people. You can get away with bringing anything anywhere if you're in a chair.
When we first got in we took a tour of a nifty hospital that is made entirely from stuff you can fit in (alot of) backpacks. They can parachute in from anywhere and be fully set up as a hospital, including isolation units, hazmat cleaning, an ICU, 2 operating rooms, patient wards and even a dental chair within 48 hours. They set it up in 18 hours in the practice run setting it up for the air show. We got a personal tour from the guy in charge of setting it up and it was really interesting. We also found that the hospital is fully air conditioned and the ICU is really, really cold. So we went there for a break at one point to get Wheeler out of the sun, and I needed the break too. I was pushing around a kid in a chair don't forget!
At the very end of the day, the Thunderbirds flew and it was verrrrrrrrrrrrrry cool. But part way through it, we were all overheating, Dog too, and so we decided to finish watching the show in the shade. Wheeler moved to back up and then stopped. He said "Look". I turned and looked. And saw that the cup for his chin control has melted. M.E.L.T.E.D. It was turned inside out and oozing down the sides. I shit you not!!! My eyes got as big as saucers and I said "well that's a new one!". He fiddled about for awhile and managed to be able to drive it anyway, but it was pretty sketchy. He had very little control because he had no traction on his chin, and so it was a scary roll out of there. We managed to get to the van and get back to his dad's despite it all (major props to Wheeler, that man can roll with the punches, that's for sure). His dad took a suction cup intended for sticking on a window to hang things from, cut off the metal piece, ran a drill through the base of it then mounted it in place of the melted cup (which looks like the chin cup knob here, 3rd thing down). Then we covered it with bandaids because the plastic was super slick, and that's how it remains now. We are trying to get another one ordered. I'm trying to decide if the cost will be in the 2 or 3 digits. My guess is $76. Anybody else want to guess? Whoa, I just went to the link to make sure I linked it correctly and the prices are at the bottom. $79. I am GOOD. Just call me the just-how-much-will-you-get-screwed-out-of-because-its-technically-a-medical-item whisperer.
Regardless of the melted chin cup, it was a very fun day. Offspring got to meet the F-22 Raptor pilots who flew that day (and they all were so young, omg I am old). He got an autographed patch, an autographed photo and an autographed hat. He was really excited about meeting the pilots, which was fun to see. He's usually so nonchalant about everything (exception: Star Wars) that I liked seeing him truly excited about something constructive.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
It all depends on how you look at it....
Last night ....
Me: "Ergh. These pants I just bought are too long"
Wheeler: "Maybe your legs are just too short"
She dissolves into a fit of giggles.
Me: "Ergh. These pants I just bought are too long"
Wheeler: "Maybe your legs are just too short"
She dissolves into a fit of giggles.
Monday, April 13, 2009
Closed loop quad system
Having a quadriplegic husband means I get to do everything twice, and the twice time takes longer. Its harder to brush someone else's teeth than yours, it takes longer to shower someone else than to shower yourself etc. When Wheeler is in bed there are a number of things that need to be done regularly that never, ever, ever, ever seem to end. Just as I think everything is done, something else needs to be done. Filling up his water bottle, giving him meds, emptying the bed bag, range of motion, brushing teeth, moving the straw, moving the blankets and scratching his head/face/shoulders are the primary ones. So I've been daydreaming of a Wallace and Grommit style invention to help me out.
(imagine dreamlike wavy lines here ....)
Patent Application: Q8Y-4726T
Date of Application: April 13, 2009
Invention Name: Closed Loop Quad Containment System
Upon placing one's beloved quadriplegic in bed, hook straw directly up to the city water main for a continuous supply of fresh water. Then, hook catheter bag up to a tube attached to a hole in the floor that runs directly to the city sewer city for disposal. An arm will then come out of the wall and dump a small cup of meds into the mouth using an electronic eye sensor. The medication cup will be filled up by the operator once a month, with dispensing automated. A similar system will dispense toothpaste onto a toothbrush, will brush the teeth and dump mouthwash into the mouth. A spit cup will be presented which will be dumped into the sewer connection previously described. Robotic cushioned claws will then drop down from the ceiling, carefully grasping each limb and will proceed to rotate them around in various directions to fully stretch the major muscle groups. During this, a hand with nice pointy fingernails will come directly out of the wall, grasp the head and will scratch for at least 5 minutes in a circular motion around the head. Once a week, the robotic arms will automatically cut fingernails and toenails. Next, similar to a sprayer car wash, the system will spray a fine mist of baby oil onto each body part to ensure smooth supple skin. The robotic arm will then open the freezer installed next to the bed for the nightly ice cream feeding. It will scoop out ice cream, feed it to the subject, then rinse and steam wash the bowl and return it to the bowl holder system for the next day. After completion of all tasks, the robotic claws will pull the sheet and blanket up over the head.
Wouldn't that be nice? I guess it's kinda hard to appreciate the constantcy of it until you do this stuff day in and day out for years. When I went to NZ, our PCA nearly flipped out from the stress of 24/7 care and she only did it for 16 days. In a way I felt triumphant upon my return - "HA! See, I am goddess of caregiving!". Then again, it also showed me just how much I do .... which I try not to think about too much or it overwhelms me.
But when I patent my quad containment system, I'll have alot less work to do.
Closed loop quad containment system
Having a quadriplegic husband means I get to do everything twice, and the twice time takes longer. Its harder to brush someone else's teeth than yours, it takes longer to shower someone else than to shower yourself etc. When Wheeler is in bed there are a number of things that need to be done regularly that never, ever, ever, ever seem to end. Just as I think everything is done, something else needs to be done. Filling up his water bottle, giving him meds, emptying the bed bag, range of motion, brushing teeth, moving the straw, moving the blankets and scratching his head/face/shoulders are the primary ones. So I've been daydreaming of a Wallace and Grommit style invention to help me out.
(imagine dreamlike wavy lines here ....)
Patent Application: Q8Y-4726T
Date of Application: April 13, 2009
Invention Name: Closed Loop Quad Containment System
Upon placing one's beloved quadriplegic in bed, hook straw directly up to the city water main for a continuous supply of fresh water. Then, hook catheter bag up to a tube attached to a hole in the floor that runs directly to the city sewer city for disposal. An arm will then come out of the wall and dump a small cup of meds into the mouth using an electronic eye sensor. The medication cup will be filled up by the operator once a month, with dispensing automated. A similar system will dispense toothpaste onto a toothbrush, will brush the teeth and dump mouthwash into the mouth. A spit cup will be presented which will be dumped into the sewer connection previously described. Robotic cushioned claws will then drop down from the ceiling, carefully grasping each limb and will proceed to rotate them around in various directions to fully stretch the major muscle groups. During this, a hand with nice pointy fingernails will come directly out of the wall, grasp the head and will scratch for at least 5 minutes in a circular motion around the head. Once a week, the robotic arms will automatically cut fingernails and toenails. Next, similar to a sprayer car wash, the system will spray a fine mist of baby oil onto each body part to ensure smooth supple skin. The robotic arm will then open the freezer installed next to the bed for the nightly ice cream feeding. It will scoop out ice cream, feed it to the subject, then rinse and steam wash the bowl and return it to the bowl holder system for the next day. After completion of all tasks, the robotic claws will pull the sheet and blanket up over the head.
Wouldn't that be nice? I guess it's kinda hard to appreciate the constantcy of it until you do this stuff day in and day out for years. When I went to NZ, our PCA nearly flipped out from the stress of 24/7 care and she only did it for 16 days. And his mom literally fled the house after less than 72 hours of caregiving when I went to Portland (leaving before I was even back!). In a way I felt triumphant upon my returns - "HA! See, I am goddess of caregiving!". Then again, it also showed me just how much I do .... which I try not to think about too much or it overwhelms me.
But when I patent my quad containment system, I'll have alot less work to do.
(imagine dreamlike wavy lines here ....)
Patent Application: Q8Y-4726T
Date of Application: April 13, 2009
Invention Name: Closed Loop Quad Containment System
Upon placing one's beloved quadriplegic in bed, hook straw directly up to the city water main for a continuous supply of fresh water. Then, hook catheter bag up to a tube attached to a hole in the floor that runs directly to the city sewer city for disposal. An arm will then come out of the wall and dump a small cup of meds into the mouth using an electronic eye sensor. The medication cup will be filled up by the operator once a month, with dispensing automated. A similar system will dispense toothpaste onto a toothbrush, will brush the teeth and dump mouthwash into the mouth. A spit cup will be presented which will be dumped into the sewer connection previously described. Robotic cushioned claws will then drop down from the ceiling, carefully grasping each limb and will proceed to rotate them around in various directions to fully stretch the major muscle groups. During this, a hand with nice pointy fingernails will come directly out of the wall, grasp the head and will scratch for at least 5 minutes in a circular motion around the head. Once a week, the robotic arms will automatically cut fingernails and toenails. Next, similar to a sprayer car wash, the system will spray a fine mist of baby oil onto each body part to ensure smooth supple skin. The robotic arm will then open the freezer installed next to the bed for the nightly ice cream feeding. It will scoop out ice cream, feed it to the subject, then rinse and steam wash the bowl and return it to the bowl holder system for the next day. After completion of all tasks, the robotic claws will pull the sheet and blanket up over the head.
Wouldn't that be nice? I guess it's kinda hard to appreciate the constantcy of it until you do this stuff day in and day out for years. When I went to NZ, our PCA nearly flipped out from the stress of 24/7 care and she only did it for 16 days. And his mom literally fled the house after less than 72 hours of caregiving when I went to Portland (leaving before I was even back!). In a way I felt triumphant upon my returns - "HA! See, I am goddess of caregiving!". Then again, it also showed me just how much I do .... which I try not to think about too much or it overwhelms me.
But when I patent my quad containment system, I'll have alot less work to do.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Levels of house cleanliness
Here is my hierarchy of house cleanlieness:
- This isn't my house
- Just after a major cleaning (1x a year max)
- Straightened up pretty darn good
- Presentable enough
- Well, at least I can see the floor
- Oh, whatever, just walk around the piles
- Really awful, only nonjudgemental friends allowed
- Truly mortifying
- Truly mortifying, even to me
- I'd turn away an ambulance crew saving my life
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
My son, budding thespian
Offspring has a love-hate relationship with school. He hates being there, he loves not being there. I honestly have no clue how to deal with this as I was a people-pleasing-straight-A-even-in-kindergarten kind of kid. My brother was the one who hated school (and we all know how badly he turned out, so maybe I should quit worrying about Offspring). But today was different. A few days ago he started telling me that he COULD NOT BE ABSENT Wed. When I asked why, it was because last week they were assigned in small groups* to write a play then act it out in front of the class today. He was in a group of all boys, and all boys who love Star Wars more than pizza and Wii combined. Of course, they chose to act out Star Wars. Not just Star Wars, but Star Wars the Clone Wars Episode 7, Part B, right before the commercial, you know that part where they fight Bahzoomba the Bad Guy. Approximately.
He has been jumping up and down all week in excitement over it. He has been practicing at home every night, he made 3 light sabers to use in the play, and has been generally over the moon about it. He leapt out of bed this morning and gleefully informed me that today was THE day!!!!! Mom, I totally can't be absent!!!! So totally, like, don't take my tempenture (another adorable mispronounciation I can't bring myself to correct him on) because I could be 128 degrees and I'm totally GOING! Like totally dude, when did I raise a child who says 'totally', like, totally every 3rd sentence? I dutifully did not take his tempenture, and all the way to school he hummed the Star Wars theme really loud, over and over again. He was bouncing up and down in his seat, waving his paper light saber about and rehearsing his lines. He was R2D2. My kid imitating R2D2 is quite funny. I had to stifle my laugh because he doesn't understand the I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at how cute you are thing. He'll understand when he has an offspring.
He has been jumping up and down all week in excitement over it. He has been practicing at home every night, he made 3 light sabers to use in the play, and has been generally over the moon about it. He leapt out of bed this morning and gleefully informed me that today was THE day!!!!! Mom, I totally can't be absent!!!! So totally, like, don't take my tempenture (another adorable mispronounciation I can't bring myself to correct him on) because I could be 128 degrees and I'm totally GOING! Like totally dude, when did I raise a child who says 'totally', like, totally every 3rd sentence? I dutifully did not take his tempenture, and all the way to school he hummed the Star Wars theme really loud, over and over again. He was bouncing up and down in his seat, waving his paper light saber about and rehearsing his lines. He was R2D2. My kid imitating R2D2 is quite funny. I had to stifle my laugh because he doesn't understand the I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at how cute you are thing. He'll understand when he has an offspring.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
How to Choose a Bed Bag
You know, I never would have imagined in my wildest dreams (or shall I say nightmares) that I would at any point in my life become a connoisseur of indwelling catheter bed bags. But I am. And I can tell you that Bard bed bags SUCK. I will hook his catheter up to a ziploc bag before I use one of those again. Why? Let me count the ways.
See that side entry green thingy?
Bard Bed Bag - THEY SUCKThat's the spigot that you use to open and close it so you can drain the urine. Well, it is damn near impossible to open/close it one-handed, which is what one must do because one must be holding the urinal into which the urine drains with one hand. So best case scenario, I end up with urine splashed on the floor and on me in small to medium amounts. But I've been a quad-wife and mom for so long that I don't even care about that. But what I do care about is that the tubing part that connects to the actual catheter is slippery perfect smooth. That means when I put it onto the catheter, it tends to fall off. Kendall bags have a bumpy surface where it connects so that the tubing has something to grab onto and doesn't fall off.
With that as a backdrop .....
One afternoon, I went into the bedroom to give Chad his mid morning meds. For whatever reason, I pulled back the sheet. Oh yeah, I remember now, his stoma has been looking a little funky, so I was checking on it. As I was pulling back the sheet, I glanced down at the bed bag out of habit. The bag was empty. After 12 hours. That can only mean one thing, and one thing only. He is sitting in all of the pee he execreted the previous 12 hours. And urine is very caustic to skin, and his skin is paper thin, particularly on his rump, so I was terrified to see what was in store when I rolled him over to start cleaning him up. Thankfully, he didn't have any skin sores, and even more luckily, I had put down both a big fat sheepskin under him and a heavy duty waterproof bed pad under that, so the urine had not soaked through to the sheet and mattress pads (one waterproof, one regular).
Normally I don't put him on a bed pad, but he has been spasming alot lately because we're trying to down tritate on his baclofen dose, and the increased spasms cause him to wiggle down and around the bed, or twist up sideways. The sheepskin is too stretchy to be an effective draw sheet, so I have been putting pads down under the sheepskin just so I can stand over him in the bed, lean down and hoist his body one way or another, up/down/left/right or some combination thereof. Yes, that scene could be straight out of a porn movie if only it wasn't of a paralyzed man being manhandled by his beleagured tired wife.
I took the sheepskin and bed pad off, tossed them in the hallway and cleaned up every single square inch going from Wheeler's belly button to his knees. I used a water rinse first, then Cetaphil - a heavy application that I gently swabbed off with a moist towel. Then I rinsed him off in water completely again. It took longer than it sounds it would. If I leave even a tiny trace of urine on him anywhere (and conveniently, you can't tell urine from the water when cleaning him), he would potentially get a truly horrendous sore on his skin. As a result, I am verrrrrry careful and thorough when he has urine on him.
I got him all cleaned up, went to the hallway to pick up the wet sheepskin and bed pad only to find Dogette having sex with them. It was utterly shameless - she was rolling in them, over and over and over and over again, just soaking in the scent as much as possible. She would bury her face and nose in the soiled sheepskin and pads, nuzzle hard into the ground, roll over and over, then start again. She was in dog heaven. She's a dog's dog I tell ya. Dogette is a a filthy, disgusting, rolling in pee dog. Needless to say, I sent her outside straightaway (I might have seen her smoking out there?).
The moral of the story: don't ever buy Bard Bed Bags.
See that side entry green thingy?
Bard Bed Bag - THEY SUCKThat's the spigot that you use to open and close it so you can drain the urine. Well, it is damn near impossible to open/close it one-handed, which is what one must do because one must be holding the urinal into which the urine drains with one hand. So best case scenario, I end up with urine splashed on the floor and on me in small to medium amounts. But I've been a quad-wife and mom for so long that I don't even care about that. But what I do care about is that the tubing part that connects to the actual catheter is slippery perfect smooth. That means when I put it onto the catheter, it tends to fall off. Kendall bags have a bumpy surface where it connects so that the tubing has something to grab onto and doesn't fall off. With that as a backdrop .....
One afternoon, I went into the bedroom to give Chad his mid morning meds. For whatever reason, I pulled back the sheet. Oh yeah, I remember now, his stoma has been looking a little funky, so I was checking on it. As I was pulling back the sheet, I glanced down at the bed bag out of habit. The bag was empty. After 12 hours. That can only mean one thing, and one thing only. He is sitting in all of the pee he execreted the previous 12 hours. And urine is very caustic to skin, and his skin is paper thin, particularly on his rump, so I was terrified to see what was in store when I rolled him over to start cleaning him up. Thankfully, he didn't have any skin sores, and even more luckily, I had put down both a big fat sheepskin under him and a heavy duty waterproof bed pad under that, so the urine had not soaked through to the sheet and mattress pads (one waterproof, one regular).
Normally I don't put him on a bed pad, but he has been spasming alot lately because we're trying to down tritate on his baclofen dose, and the increased spasms cause him to wiggle down and around the bed, or twist up sideways. The sheepskin is too stretchy to be an effective draw sheet, so I have been putting pads down under the sheepskin just so I can stand over him in the bed, lean down and hoist his body one way or another, up/down/left/right or some combination thereof. Yes, that scene could be straight out of a porn movie if only it wasn't of a paralyzed man being manhandled by his beleagured tired wife.
I took the sheepskin and bed pad off, tossed them in the hallway and cleaned up every single square inch going from Wheeler's belly button to his knees. I used a water rinse first, then Cetaphil - a heavy application that I gently swabbed off with a moist towel. Then I rinsed him off in water completely again. It took longer than it sounds it would. If I leave even a tiny trace of urine on him anywhere (and conveniently, you can't tell urine from the water when cleaning him), he would potentially get a truly horrendous sore on his skin. As a result, I am verrrrrry careful and thorough when he has urine on him.
I got him all cleaned up, went to the hallway to pick up the wet sheepskin and bed pad only to find Dogette having sex with them. It was utterly shameless - she was rolling in them, over and over and over and over again, just soaking in the scent as much as possible. She would bury her face and nose in the soiled sheepskin and pads, nuzzle hard into the ground, roll over and over, then start again. She was in dog heaven. She's a dog's dog I tell ya. Dogette is a a filthy, disgusting, rolling in pee dog. Needless to say, I sent her outside straightaway (I might have seen her smoking out there?).
The moral of the story: don't ever buy Bard Bed Bags.
Monday, March 9, 2009
I hate days like this
... Wheeler is in a pissy mood. And wants 10 things before I'm up and/or as I start to work, or wants to know the status of the 129 things I have to do but haven't gotten to.
Can you rub my eyes (yes), can you empty the bag (no, its not full yet, I'll do it later), can I get something to eat (yes), can you help me reprogram Axel now pleasssssse??? (no, don't be an idiot! that takes forever), can I get a shower (not yet, you know I have a call at 11)? will you get my prescriptions from Walgreens (yes)? Will you call the dr office and get those other Rxs for me (yes, but later)? Is the closet cleared out yet? (duh, what do you think?) can you put in that Santana CD (... sure, I'll shut the door because I HATE that cd more than anything else on the planet), do we have anything besides water or milk? (no, do you remember me going to the grocery store since you asked me this last night?), your frog's water looks terrible, you should call the store and ask what to do (ok, later). Have you done the taxes? (no). FSA? (no). Is my leg hitting the bedrail?(no). Did you feed the dog? (not yet) Is the cat's litter dirty? (yes, so?)
Ergh. Its gonna be a long Monday.
Can you rub my eyes (yes), can you empty the bag (no, its not full yet, I'll do it later), can I get something to eat (yes), can you help me reprogram Axel now pleasssssse??? (no, don't be an idiot! that takes forever), can I get a shower (not yet, you know I have a call at 11)? will you get my prescriptions from Walgreens (yes)? Will you call the dr office and get those other Rxs for me (yes, but later)? Is the closet cleared out yet? (duh, what do you think?) can you put in that Santana CD (... sure, I'll shut the door because I HATE that cd more than anything else on the planet), do we have anything besides water or milk? (no, do you remember me going to the grocery store since you asked me this last night?), your frog's water looks terrible, you should call the store and ask what to do (ok, later). Have you done the taxes? (no). FSA? (no). Is my leg hitting the bedrail?(no). Did you feed the dog? (not yet) Is the cat's litter dirty? (yes, so?)
Ergh. Its gonna be a long Monday.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Parking at RBC
When we went to the RBC center on Friday, I did my usual blow-past-security and park in the Premier parking area, which has a van handicapped spot of my dreams: huge, huge, huge white hash mark area next to the space, even on the right side so I don't have to back in to bring the ramp down. And its quite literally the very first parking space in front of the doors at RBC. I started parking there "illegally" last year because the non-premier, regular joe h/c spots a) fill up really quickly and b) none of them have sufficient ramp space anyway. By my cones kept getting stolen, so I had to give up. If I parked in a regular spot, or even a regular h/c spot, then we would have to either wait for everyone around us to leave before I could bring the ramp down for Wheeler, or back halfway out of the space to load him in and block everyone trying to get out - and at the end of the game, people are very impatient. I guess a last option would be lower the lift and crush the car next to us, but I don't suppose that would be very nice. As a result, I decided to help myself to the best h/c spot in the world and I simply ignore all the hysterical people lot staff who insist I can't park there. And in fact, after I started parking there, I mentioned it to the head of security at RBC (the real head of security there, there are many weridos who try to stretch their male anatomy by pretending they are a godtobeobeyed), and he said we could park there anytime. You are supposed to have a hang tag to be in the premiere lot, so when I asked him for one in case we would get towed, he said that to authorized towing, it has to go through him. And no matter what, he'd never tow a handicapped vehicle from a handicapped spot, regardless of premier status or not.
So, with that as the back story, the parking lot attendant Friday was absolutely livid that I blew her off and went through anyway. I told her that Head Guy says we can park there, and she kept telling me I had to park, leave on my flashers, go get a premiere hang tag, then put it in my van. I merely said, no, I'm not going to leave my flashers on, we are just going to park there. I rolled up my window and drove away, up to my perfect dream spot. Not 30 seconds later, some other guy, higher up the parking lot staff food chain came running towards us talking furiously into his radio (cleary, Ms. Leave on Your Flashers) called to report my flagrant violation, so I slowed up, rolled the window down again. He too one look at me, didn't look in the back that I could see, and said "Oh! You're HIM! Park right here" and motioned for us to park in the dream spot.
I was a little puzzled, thinking he'd mistaken me for a visiting dignitary or something (who also happened to drive a great big groovin' red conversion van). So I parked, got the ramp down and sent Wheeler and Dog on their way because we were running really late .... due to me screwing up and taking the wrong route to the arena. And we left late, and even after leaving late, then I had to drive home and get the tickets, which I conveniently had forgotten. As I was stowing the lift, the higher up the food chain guy came running back and said "Oh good! I'm glad you got this spot, because HE can park here anytime, at any event. You ever have trouble, just ask me me. HE can park anywhere he wants, I'm really sorry for the hassle she gave you.". He went on for a bit to say that he gave her a hard time about it, and said that if that spot wasn't open, to park absolutely anywhere we wanted in premier (the lot is 3/4 empty at any given event) for any event.
I went inside and caught up with Wheeler and relayed the story to Head Security Guy who confirmed that we can park anywhere we want, anytime. You know, having a broken neck sucks, but now and then people recognize that its a little more than a mere inconvenience, and are nice to you. I like those days.
So, with that as the back story, the parking lot attendant Friday was absolutely livid that I blew her off and went through anyway. I told her that Head Guy says we can park there, and she kept telling me I had to park, leave on my flashers, go get a premiere hang tag, then put it in my van. I merely said, no, I'm not going to leave my flashers on, we are just going to park there. I rolled up my window and drove away, up to my perfect dream spot. Not 30 seconds later, some other guy, higher up the parking lot staff food chain came running towards us talking furiously into his radio (cleary, Ms. Leave on Your Flashers) called to report my flagrant violation, so I slowed up, rolled the window down again. He too one look at me, didn't look in the back that I could see, and said "Oh! You're HIM! Park right here" and motioned for us to park in the dream spot.
I was a little puzzled, thinking he'd mistaken me for a visiting dignitary or something (who also happened to drive a great big groovin' red conversion van). So I parked, got the ramp down and sent Wheeler and Dog on their way because we were running really late .... due to me screwing up and taking the wrong route to the arena. And we left late, and even after leaving late, then I had to drive home and get the tickets, which I conveniently had forgotten. As I was stowing the lift, the higher up the food chain guy came running back and said "Oh good! I'm glad you got this spot, because HE can park here anytime, at any event. You ever have trouble, just ask me me. HE can park anywhere he wants, I'm really sorry for the hassle she gave you.". He went on for a bit to say that he gave her a hard time about it, and said that if that spot wasn't open, to park absolutely anywhere we wanted in premier (the lot is 3/4 empty at any given event) for any event.
I went inside and caught up with Wheeler and relayed the story to Head Security Guy who confirmed that we can park anywhere we want, anytime. You know, having a broken neck sucks, but now and then people recognize that its a little more than a mere inconvenience, and are nice to you. I like those days.
Monday, March 2, 2009
I am tired and cranky!
Now its my turn to piss and moan. I am exhausted even though I slept from about midnight to 9 am. Wheeler woke me up so many times last night. Here are the ones I remember, all separate times.
- Can I get some water?
- Is my urine cloudy?
- Is the bag full?
- Can you turn my heating blanket on to 3?
- Is my leg hitting the bedrail?
- Can you scratch my head?
- Can I get my pills? (at 6:45 which annoyed me most because he knows I give him his pills when Offspring gets here in the AM)
And those are the ones I remember, there were others that I have blocked out of my head as a form of post-traumatic stress coping.
Now I'm tired, cranky and have a headache.
It snowed here again last night. About 3-4 inches I'd say, and school is closed. But Offspring
is a great kid, he is happily amusing himself while I work (and whine).
.... over and out, as I grab Exedrin migrain and a cup of tea ....
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