I have not blogged in 5 months. Perhaps I should call myself "The Unblogger". Or the "Anti-blogger." What happened, I think, was I kind of lost my sense of humor. I found that uprooting myself from my home and husband, and totally changing my life while taking care of ailing relatives, sort of got a little un-funny for a while.... I must have had a case of the "feel-sorries" and just didn't feel like sharing anything. I was afraid anything I would put in a blog would come across as unkind. So I just didn't blog.

Well, quite a bit more has happened since the last blog in October. The big thing was that my mother died. She had COPD and congestive heart failure. And last spring, from March to May, she was in the hospital. She nearly died. It was sort of the impetus for my deciding to retire and move south to help out. That, and the fact that my aunt has stage IV Liver cancer. And, since they live(d) together and have a small cattle ranch, obviously they can't really run the place anymore on their own. Mama went to the hospital on her own on a Sunday afternoon. She just hadn't felt well. And hadn't felt good for about a month. She'd seen her doctor a couple of weeks before, but she was so afraid of needing to go to the hospital by ambulance, or worse, by LifeFlight. So, my daughter drove her over and I met them in Corpus on my way back from Houston.

At first, it seemed she was ok. They decided to go ahead and admit her and keep her for observation. On the first Monday she was there, they started talking about sending her home with some additional home health services. Everything seemed ok for another day, but late that day, there was a little 'blip' with her heart. The docs decided to keep her a little longer. They seemed to get the heart issue regulated, but a few days later, they started noticing a significant decrease in her kidney function. By now, she had regressed to the point where she could no longer get out of bed to even use the potty unassisted. On Saturday, a catheter went in. She was in pain. She was fighting nausea big time. Nothing was going well. The docs started talking about looking for a skilled nursing facility. I talked to the social worker. Mom signed a DNR order. She told me and the docs she did not want to be on a ventilator again. On Sunday, they did scans on her gut. Nothing came up on the scan to explain the severe nausea. Monday, she vomited bile and could not hold food down. They did another scan on her lungs and tests for kidney function. I heard the docs and the nurses use words like "end stage lung disease" and "end of life issue." For the life of me, I could not wrap my  head around it. I must have known she was dying, but for some reason I thought this could go on a good while. On Tuesday morning, the cute young doctor met me in mother's room and told her that her kidneys had failed and that she was not a candidate for dialysis due to her poor condition. Her heart was bad. And, the final blow, the chest scan found a fairly large mass on her lung that had characteristics of cancer.This mass was not evident when she was hospitalized 8 months earlier. So, I'm thinking that this can't be good.   By now, mother was too far gone for any further medical intervention. She signed a compassionate care order. Treatment basically stopped. The doctor told me that he was going to let her stay put because he didn't want to move her. I don't know why, but I really thought she'd last like this for days. I was so wrong. About 3 in the afternoon, she got her first shot of morphine. She only needed a second one. She was pronounced at 10:37 pm.

Thankfully, for me at least, my two children and daughter-in-law were with me. I had told my siblings that she might last like this for a while, so we agreed they'd come the next day. I feel so bad about that. Perhpas I should have had them come sooner. But mama had told me several times over several days she did not want company and she did not want anyone else to see her in the condition she was in. I think she was just exhausted and didn't want to deal with anything else. So. we let her have her way.

Ya know, I should have known that Mama's last day, a Tuesday was going to just be a bad day. I had a long-standing doctor appointment in Corpus, first thing in the morning. Since I was staying at the farm in Falfurrias since Auntie can't be alone, I had to get up really early, well before daylight, to get dressed and ready for the drive to Corpus and for another day at the hospital. Trying to be quiet, and not disturb Auntie, I don't turn on the lights. I have on a brand new pair of pink bedroom slippers. As I walk to the closet in the room next to the bathroom, and then into the bathroom, I realize I have stepped in dog shit. There are three small dogs living with us and none of them are particularly well-trained. So, I got that smeared mess cleaned off the carpet and bathroom floor. Put the bath mat and my slippers in the dirty clothes hamper and continue with my shower. I get dressed and put on a pair of athletic wind pants, t-shirt, hoodie, and my brand new pair of New Balance running shoes. Not that I run, or even do anything remotely related to exercise, but they said to "dress comfortable" so I wanted to be prepared in case they made me get on a treadmill, God forbid. I'm taking some things for Mama, like raspberry jello and some 7-ups. I'm taking her a fresh quilt and some pillow cases for her pillows. So, several trips to the car are made. Finally, I get in the car and head out, before the sun comes up. I stop and get coffee at the McDonald's drive through and start driving to Corpus. I am about 5 miles from Riveria. This is now the point of no return. If I were to turn around, I'd never make it to the doctor's office on time. I've been smelling something off. I smell my armpits, my coffee. I look in the seat next to me to make sure some errant sandwich hasn't been fermenting in the car for several days. I continue driving. You may remember the mention in a previous blog of the 16 dogs living outside at the farm. I finally realize what it is that I am smelling. I pull over because I want to see how bad it is. It's bad. The entire front half of my left shoe is caked in dog shit. Nearly 300 acres of farmland, and I have managed to find a 6-inch pile of fresh dog shit to step in. So, not only do I have a nasty dog shit encrusted shoe, I have no time to return to the farm and get another pair of shoes, I don't have another pair in the car and I am going to see a doctor for the first time. So, I kept driving. When I get to the doctor's office, I have about 5 minutes to spare. I find a handi-wipe and an orange stick... you know, the stick you use to push cuticles back and dig gunga out of your fingernails... Well... it makes a pretty darn good dog-shit-picker-tool...especially when you combine it with the wet handi-wipe... I managed to get my shoe relatively clean, enough so that I wasn't embarrased to go to the doctor's office. I go through all that, get into the exam room, when I get the call about Mama's lung scan. Her doctor wants to meet with me at the hospital and I leave the appointment to start the rest of the very bad dad. I just thought the dog shit on the shoes, twice in the same day, was bad... just goes to show that it can always be worse...

And, now my friends, I hope to blog more often, and yes, I am well aware how often I've said that and how often I've had to come back days/weeks/months later and say "oops... my bad. " But, I also think I should perhaps rename the blog. "Rhonda's Retirement Adventure" really doesn't quite cover it. It's not so much an adventure anymore, as it is slogging through, just trying to survive life. All of us have to navigate the complications of family, friends, work, sickness, health, wealth, loss... But, since I can't think of another name for the blog, I'll just keep it as is for now. Until next time... :)