I’m going to have to make this short. I’m not blessed with an abundance of energy so I know everyone will understand.
Hoping against hope, I was banking on no phone call from a hospice person meant no one would be coming to see me. Those hopes were dashed when a large man walked in the door and introduced himself as the chaplain. I let him do most of the talking since that seems to tire me quickly. He had some good things to say and told a nice story that he linked with a spiritual thought, had prayer with me and was filling out things on his tablet when I had to give in and tell him I had to use the restroom. He got up, shook my hand and left while I fled to the bathroom and relief.
The rest of the day was quiet. I watched a little TV and, after sundown, I watched It Takes a Church on Netflix.
Bedtime was dicey. I’d found a packet of Hot Hands in my purse so I opened it after a struggle and got it started heating up. My hands tend to be cold at night and my hot water bottle has yet to be found.
The Hot Hands were a godsend. They kept my hands warm (I’d been able to warm my feet before bed with the warming blanket). I was ready to settle down for a good night’s sleep.
That wasn’t to be. When I’d start to drift off, I’d either begin coughing or have to get up to use the potty at the end of the bed. At the end of two hours, I was finally able to go to sleep but I counted the potty breaks and they totaled eight, counting the one right before I went to bed. Then there was one when I got up to stay. If I count that one, that makes nine, all in the space of 12 hours.
Today, Cuz was home all day which was nice. My CIL takes good care of me but he has his health problems, too, and needs someone to care for him at times.
Lesson 5 needed attention so I took did that and uploaded it.
I had applesauce, yogurt and a cinnamon waffle for breakfast.
The phone rang and it was a hospice nurse. She’d be here in 15 minutes if it was okay for her to stop by. Sure, I said. Then she called back. She’d realized this was my Sabbath (actually, it isn’t mine but God’s gift to all of us) and she didn’t know if I’d rather she didn’t come. I told her there was no problem except I’d had someone here from hospice every day except one (Monday) and I’d appreciate a break. She laughed and said she’d see me Monday.
This afternoon, I started reading The Benefit of Grace, a book by a friend I’ve known for years. It’s really interesting since I’m familiar with so much of what she talks about.
As good as the book was, I dozed off and slept hard for I don’t know how long. I dreamed about Mother and that she was living in a little apartment that had a big utility room with the deep stainless steel sinks usually found in commercial kitchens. When I woke, it was almost sundown.
My roommate has left me in the dust on Call the Midwife so I watched the 4th episode and had a good cry over a baby that was born with deformities caused by Thalidomide. It had no limbs and there was no way to tell whether it was male or female. It didn’t live more than a couple of hours. What’s even more heartbreaking is that was the reality back in the early 60s.
Supper was two boiled eggs and Cream of Wheat.
I’ve started taking my vitamins and probiotics again. My stomach seems better though not up to eating what I’d like to be eating.
The Herbaceous Butcher was on an episode of Diners, Drive-ins and Dives so I’d set the DVR to record all of the episodes so I’d be sure not to miss it. It was supposed to be on yesterday so I started watching the one that had recorded yesterday only to find it wasn’t the right one. Bummer! No telling when it will be on again, if ever. Instead, I watched Iron Chef America and Beat Bobby Flay. Not much consolation there.
Cuz got me some more Hot Hands for tonight and a pair of scissors to open the package. If her sister doesn’t know where the hot water bottle is, I’ll order another one.
I’ve been dosed and my doxepin is close by, ready for me to take. I’m truly out of juice so I’m going to shut this down for tonight. God bless us, every one.