Sunday, April 30, 2017

Day Nine Catch-Up

I posted yesterday and then updated, and so even though I had more to share (driving range status), I figured I'd start a post for today, yesterday. Actually, all of this is happening on Saturday, but I won't be posting until Sunday. Ennyhoo. "Golf update":

We coddled Daddy a bit, and I wasn't thrilled with it... but I realize that if he doesn't do his physical therapy the way he wants to, then he won't do it at all... so, we loaded a folding chair onto the golf cart so he could sit between shots. He grabbed a thermal "mug" and filled it with diluted Pedialyte, for when he sweats away his electrolytes. He soaked a dish towel to mop his brow. I let him, because if I hadn't, we may not even have made it as far as the golf cart, much less to the driving range. Tough love is as tough on the giver as the receiver, I'm finding!

So he drove up to the club, or whatever that building where they rent balls and such is called, because he didn't want to walk the extra 100 feet from where we usually park the cart. Tough noogies, Daddy. You get to walk that extra 100 feet to the range (because I moved the cart to where we usually park it). I still had to unload all the crap and carry it down for him!

He'd brought two hybrid wood clubs, a #2 and a #4. He hit 6 balls off the fairway with the #4, 2 off a tee with the #2, and then sat down to rest, mop his brow, and replace his electrolytes. What a big baby! I made sure he was sitting up straight so his airways would be nice and clear, and then he went back to it. Eight balls off the tee with the #2, and then back to fairway hitting with the #4. We moved the chair to the "fairway" so he could just sit for a sec a couple of times, and he finished the round with 28 total balls hit! 95% or better really "pretty" shots, or what we've decided are "Happy" balls!

There are now 30 balls in the bag, and the next round will complete our driving range dailies...

Started our Sunday fairly early, since we were supposed to meet Uncle Leroy and Laurie for late-ish lunch... Took a driver and a #3 wood to the range, dumped our 30 onto the lane, and collected 6-8 more that had been left behind (honestly don't remember if it was 6 or 8, but it wasn't fewer, nor was it more). Set up the chair and the Pedialyte and wet towel, and Daddy did some stretching. He'd taken a Naproxen before we left the house, but it hadn't kicked in. He also had his back brace with him, #JIC.

He hit a few with the wood. They were neither pretty nor ugly shots, but Daddy didn't like them. Sat down for a bit, pulled out the tee, and hit a few with the driver. He was pretty unhappy with them, and switched back again. Sat down a couple more times, feeling twinges in his low back, and gave up before we finished. Still and all, he'd hit 21 this morning, most of which were neither pretty nor ugly. Pain is pain is pain. It wasn't a great morning, but really not that bad, in the grand scheme of his health improvement. We dumped those two clubs in the "reject" pile, not to be used again!

Lunch date got cancelled due to Uncle Leroy's feeling "puny", so we fed ourselves, watched a bit of telly, and then I walked to the pool. Got a little exercise, got a good bit of sun. Returned to the house, and Daddy decided he'd hit the rest of the balls from his back yard (since the course will be able to collect the balls anyway), once the sun and temperatures were descending.

So more feeding ourselves and more telly, and then hitting balls. Two good clubs and 17 pretty shots!

We're caught up on the current season of Doctor Who, and we're deep into Season 4 (just met River Song and have been to Midnight). Rose returns next episode! Turn Left, of course.

Are these posts of interest, still? Back in the day, when I was blogging daily, I got bored with it myself. I know family's reading, but what about you, my non-family? I'm in Florida for a little while longer... is there something else you'd like me to address while I'm here?

Saturday, April 29, 2017

Stuff we probably won't do

I got up this morning and cooked some bacon. I keep offering Daddy more than one slice, but so far, he keeps declining. Between now and the end of time, Daddy probably won't buy any more bacon that isn't pre-cooked. He probably won't eat more than one slice that I have cooked, at a time.

Before I traveled out here, we'd talked about brain games, like mah johngg, solitaire, and sudoku. I play all of those, so this morning, I installed the Sudoku app on Daddy's tablet and taught him to play. It took a long time, because he'd never ever even tried one before, but I have a feeling that between now and the end of time, Daddy probably won't ever solve another Sudoku puzzle.

Also before I traveled out here, not knowing how long I'd be here, I "looked into" work-from-home possibilities, to have an income stream in the event that I was needed here longer than originally expected. In the foreseeable future, I probably won't pursue any kind of work-from-home anything that isn't voice acting in a home studio. Also, I probably won't build myself a home recording studio for voice acting, unless I get back home for more training and labs and workshops and experience and then have to return to Daddy for his health.

Last week, when we caught up with the cousins and aunty, the ringleader cousin had made possible plans for me to attend an improv comedy show with her (last night), because her friend who performs in it is "actressy" like I am. The friend had emergency surgery done on Thursday, so last night's plans were cancelled. That is perfectly reasonable, and while the cousin would still like to maybe get together again before I leave, it probably won't happen.

And there's other family what needs seein'. I had hoped to trek up to meet the newest niece and nephew, either by traveling the full distance in my rental car, with or without Daddy, or by meeting the families of those newest niece and nephew halfway-ish. Not happening. Not even "probably" not happening. If I were going to be here for an extended stay of a month or more, then we'd find a way to make that kinda visit happen... so, if I end up with a home recording studio for voice acting that I've built HERE because Daddy needs me to RETURN, well, then, there you are. But for now? Nopesies.

This morning, I mentioned a visit with Uncle Leroy and Laurie. Daddy said, sure, we can do that. But he didn't call or email Uncle Leroy to see when that might could happen, so... we probably won't do it. UPDATE: Daddy made the call, and we'll be having lunch with them tomorrow! W00t!

But this list of probably won'ts doesn't mean we're sitting here doing NOTHING. In fact, we were both awake fairly early this morning, and we've both cooked real food and consumed it, taken morning vitamins/meds, caught up on internets, played games, and Daddy's in the middle of laundry! No, he didn't ask for my help, so I'm not helping him (he won't have it once I go back home, so why coddle him, #amiright?).

I've been blogging fairly regularly whilst here. He will hit half (?) a bucket of balls today. I will (probably, possibly, maybe, um...) do the 5k steps to get in the pool today. I will check the mail today. I might book my return flight home. We will binge more Doctor Who!

What's some stuff YOU probably won't do? What's some cool, fun, weekend stuff you probably WILL do?

Friday, April 28, 2017

Day Seven with Daddy

Early follow-up appointment with Daddy's doc was a "spitballin' session", a negotiation, brainstorming next steps on Daddy's care. Since the ÉR visit yielded, in essence, "negatives" across the board of tests, Doc suggested some stress tests, but we also told him how we had decided to change his daily activity goal from walking to golf... slowly but surely, the plan is to get him feeling strong enough to play a round on a frequent basis. So far, just trying to knock balls outta the park at the driving range. Doc seemed pleased to hear that shortness of breath doesn't seem to be an issue anymore, or at least, not nearly to the degree that drove him to the ER on MONDAY of THIS WEEK. So, yes, we've made some progress. Still have much progress to make before I can feel comfortable leaving him to his own devices. We haven't formed a new habit yet, per se.

Since the appointment was earlier than either of us were truly ready to be out in the world, when we returned, we chilled for a bit, and then Daddy took a decent nap. Once I knew he was up, we ...

went to the driving range! #QuelleSurprise #NoIDontSpeakAnyFrench, #WhyDoYouAsk?

We reached the end of the last bucket he'd "rented", so tomorrow, he'll need to "rent" another. But today, he did a few stretches with a club over his head, and a few twists of his torso, and he was ready:

#6 iron, hit 6 darn pretty balls off the "fairway"... then the driver, hit 2 beauties off the tee.

Mentioned a little hip pain, and came over to the bag stand for a short rest. This was not a breathing rest, although I did admonish him to sit/stand straighter, with his shoulders back and head up. Then he stepped back into the batter's box (if only it were baseball, but that's just me, I'm sure).

#6 iron, hit 7 pretty well (scuffed one once, but who's really counting?)... then the driver for the remaining 5, off the tee. We still had 5 (extra) balls in the bag, because we'd only had 20 as our "goal" today, but, ya know, JIC.

The last ball was so beautiful that he said, "gimme another one". (Yay!). So I did.

Shoulda gone out on a "high" note. But really, he shoulda taken some Naproxen before we even left, so that pain wouldn't be the thing to stop him. He hit 21 balls today. He had some physical joint pain. 85-90% of the balls he hit were beautiful shots. Really great.

And now, Season 4 of Doctor Who!

Thursday, April 27, 2017

Today is Thursday. We did some stuff; what did you do?

So, currently, at nearly 7 p.m., Daddy's in the middle of some flick about Marines... or not. It was becoming boring, so he decided to return to Doctor Who. I ain't got a problem with that.

Earlier today, hmm, let's see...

We got up, earlier, at a reasonable hour, and after checking all the internets we needed to check, he got dressed, goaded me into changing my own clothes, and after we traded the BEAST for something more reasonable, we took the golf cart over to the driving range. We also grabbed the cardkey for the pool, just to check the water temp, so I could make an informed decision regarding "walking over there and getting in" or not. (answer: any day I could really use the steps, sure, yeah, why not?)

Daddy's plan was to hit 15 golf balls at the driving range; I decided pretty early that we'd load his wine-carrier bag with 20, JIC. He grabbed a 5 iron and a 5 wood, so he still wouldn't need the brush tee and could act like he was golfing on "the fairway"...

Yesterday, he hit a total of 13 balls, from the "fairway", with one breathing break. Today, I dumped 20 balls at his feet, and he started with the 5 iron. He hit four pretty lovely shots, and then took a little breathing break. Then he hit five decent hits with the 5 wood, and took another break. I told him he only needed 5 more hits to surpass yesterday, and only 6 to hit "his" goal of today. Had my phone with me, so I took some VIDEO!

Ya wanna see it? Of Course you do! Here's the iron:
video
Here's the wood:
video
I'm really really proud of him. Good thing for him, I tell him so. I'm really proud of the progress he's made, both physically, and um, well, physically? I'm no shrink, so I really can't speak to his mental or emotional health. But I am really proud of his physical health... at 73 human earth years old.

It's Daddy. My Daddy, and I'm trying to make sure he doesn't "give up" physically before all of us who love him are ready to "accept" that he's done. #HeAintDoneKidsAndIAintGivinUpOnHim!!!

In addition to the driving range, we watched "Blink"and "Utopia", we hit Publix and the liquor store, I made a coupla Greek-ish wraps (that he didn't love but also didn't hate), I took a little walk whilst he was watching his Marine thingy, and now we're on "The Sound of Drums", and since Daddy finds The Master/Harold Saxon to be funny, we'll probably finish Season 3 ("Last of the Time Lords")...

I'm not going to publish until we part at bedtime, so for now, Salt & Vinegar Crisps (potato chips)! I expect to update... so for now, see ya in a bit...

yeah, completed the Harold Saxon trilogy/ I informed him that "in a distant future episode, we'll see the Master's regeneration", and he took his night-night meds to go to bed, so we can be up for his early (9:15 a.m.) doctor's follow-up appointment... We'll be up. We'll be there. I'll be so happy to report the progress I think he's made.

Wonder if it's all been psychosomatic, all along? Maybe he only misses his bffs more than anyone in the world, ever! Whaddya think? Betcha we know something before I check here for replies tomorrow! ;)

Days Five and almost Six, as it turns out (if travel day was Day Zero)

Yesterday was a pretty chill day. We were both up at a reasonable hour, and since I had replied to the card I'd received on Tuesday, I went out to put it in the mailbox and raise the flag. I hadn't mentioned before, because I'd forgotten, but a few days ago, Daddy and I fixed the flag on his mailbox. The housing had broken, so if you stood it upright, it might fall down again, and if the carrier dropped it down, it was a very sad drop. But superglue and an extra washer (and of course, a bigger hammer, in case it didn't fit), and the thing is #GoodAsNew! Well, almost. It still qualifies as a #JerryRig, but unless you inspect it closely, you'd never know.

Ennyhoo. Put my outgoing mail in the box, raised the flag, and just "hung out" in the sunshine, because #WhatAGorgeousDay!

Once Daddy heard from his pharmacy that his Rx was ready for pickup, he got dressed and loaded up the golf cart for his outing on the driving range. I hoofed it over to the CVS, met him at the drive-thru window, and we went to hit some balls.

Not wanting the range folks to "know" that we'd taken home the bucket, he'd loaded 13 balls into a bag, and brought his #4 and #7 irons, so he wouldn't need the tee. We set up nearish to a dude who had his full bag of clubs and a full bucket, and we knew that even with breaks, dude would still be there when we left. 'Sokay, the driving range isn't exactly "social", nor is it "antisocial". Golf is an "alone" sport, according to Daddy. Still, we all exchanged some pleasantries.

Daddy scuffed his first two balls, so I had him step back and take a couple of practice swings. That helped. He hit 3 very lovely shots, and then he needed a rest, so we did the same "prop yourself on the bag stand for a sec" thing, and he held his posture up and breathed. Then he went back and hit the remaining 8 balls, slicing just a little, but mostly getting them straight down the "fairway". 13 balls with only one breathing break! Not bad!

I opened his inhaler and spacer for him, but so far, he hasn't used them. When we got back in, he put on "Bandidas", because he likes it, and it wasn't horrible for me to watch, either. Penélope Cruz and Salma Hayek, robbing banks across Mexico to help the peasantry who've been swindled by Dwight Yoakam's New York banker/land developer. It's a romp. Then we hopped back in the golf cart to hit Publix (well, I walked, but anyway). I'll be making some Greek-ish sandwich wraps today. Sure hope we like 'em (since I have to learn to make Tzatziki first... oh, wait, no I don't! Just now, in Googling the spelling of this wonderful cucumber dip, one of the Google autofill options included Opaa! Poblano Sauce (which I neverinamillionyears woulda known was tzatziki)... so I'm gonna return the Greek yogurt and cuke we bought yesterday, and get the pre-made stuff. Yay for not havin' to learn nothin'!

Ennyhoo, we got back from our little grocery adventure and sat down to binge some Doctor Who. Daddy felt like "Daleks in Manhattan" was really sappy, and he wasn't too pleased that it was a two-parter, but we watched "Evolution of the Daleks" to finish the story (even though I told him he could skip it). He was much happier with "The Lazarus Experiment" and "42", and we even got as far as "Human Nature", which, as it turns out is also a two-parter, but at least it wasn't sappy, so yes, we finished our day with "The Family of Blood".

Which means next up is "Blink"!!!!! I sure hope I haven't oversold it for him...

Today, more golfing. More Doctor Who. Return the Enterprise rental for a Rent-A-Wreck or extend the contract, whichever makes more sense, $-wise. Wassup witchoo?

Oh, and I also gave myself a lazicure this morning:
too lazy to remove the purple, so I just threw a little pink on top

Tuesday, April 25, 2017

I don't even know what "day" it is anymore...

So yesterday, I froze my ass off in the local hospital ER. You read that already. If you didn't, shame on you. What kinda friend/follower are you, if you're not reading me semi-daily? C'mon!

TODAY:

I awoke 8-ish, after hitting the sack just shy of 1:00. I missed my non-Fitbit thingy's step challenge by 800-ish steps (fuck it), and I missed my non-Fitbit thingy's bedtime by 8 minutes (fuck YOU, non-Fitbit thingy! You're not the boss of me!)

Came downstairs 9-ish and almost immediately heated the second half of the can of corned beef hash, because STARVING. Offered Daddy a bite; he hedged a bit, saying, well, I can just make myself an egg salad thing in a bit; this of course meant I would be sharing. #IHadToLearnMyPassiveAggressiveManipulationSkillsFromSomeone!

Shared the hash. Finished yesterday's big ol' Los Angeles mug of French Press cold mocha, with a Boost protein shake added in for good measure. Was #ReallyGladISharedTheHash, and #SaidSo.

Checked the mail... found the package of Boost Daddy had ordered a day or two ago, which *apparently* also contains a pulse-oxymeter, which tells you a numbered-scale (it can't be a percentage, but it is on a scale of 100) of oxygen you're getting in your bloodstream. Yesterday, in the ER, his pulse-ox stayed in the high-90's, and I even saw a 100 for one beat. We haven't opened the box yet, so we have no idea if the thingy's even in it.

Got dressed and went for a walk. I wanted to see how many steps away the pool is. It's about 5k, round-trip. So even if I continue to not care about getting 10k daily steps, if I walk to the pool and back, with a bit of water-treading, then I'm still doing okay with my personal health.

Got back and checked the mail. Multiple times. I have new penpals in @TheBloggess ' Twitter followers, and I'd brought 3 letters I received with me to reply to, but I knew there was at least one letter/card on the way, in c/o Daddy. There was an a/c repairman in bff's driveway, and the garage door was open. WTF? Met the "other" neighbors, who, like Daddy, keep an eye on bff's condo. Apparently, I'd met them a decade ago and didn't remember. I was here a decade ago for Mommy. Sue me for not remembering (they forgave me already, so you don't really have to sue me).

Got the letter/card I was expecting. Daddy got dressed and went next door to check that errything was okey-dokey. He was over there for a bit, but now that he was dressed, we decided to snag the golf cart and head to the driving range.

We took a #1 driver and a #3 fairway wood (iron), a brush tee, and a single glove, jumped in the golf cart, and toodled over to the driving range. Daddy's plan was to "rent" a bucket of balls, but not really hit more than 6 today. He hit 2 off the tee (poorly, IMO) with the 3, and then smacked the hell outta 2 off the tee with the driver. Then, since we hadn't brought over with us a stool of any kind, he leaned/sat on the bag stand that the "course" had provided. After a coupla good deep breaths (and my reminder to sit up straight with his head up), he went back to the tee/"fairway". Hit four really lovely shots with the #3 wood, and then came back to the bag stand to rest. Then he hooked two shots off the tee with the driver, and he was done. 10 shots, not 6! I was really happy with that.

We hid the bucket and drove the cart home. Sat here bingeing Doctor Who ("Smith and Jones" and "The Shakespeare Code") and consumed a little alcohol, proteins, and carbs. We have discussed the need for him to binge the Harry Potter films (actors that he loves, that is the only reason), and we will likely binge a bit more Doctor Who before bedtime tonight (UPDATE: currently on "Gridlock").

Today has been both relaxing and productive. He's got a follow-up appointment with Dr. Cooke on Friday; I dropped off his Rx but we haven't heard back from CVS to pick it up yet; we've both been physically active, and we've both "caught up" on our personal "catch-up" stuff. And it's not even 6 p.m. !!!

I intend to SLEEP this good night, at a reasonable hour, and then GET UP at a reasonable hour tomorrow, to be productive again. Whaddyougot?

Monday, April 24, 2017

Adventures in Daddyland, Florida!

So, if you've been keeping up, you know that two days ago, Uncle Dan said "come tomorrow"... which we did.

If you know my Daddy at all, you know that he is Not Concerned with his Own Health really, at all, beyond taking his prescription, non-narcotic/non-barbiturate/non-addictive Rx meds that have been appropriately prescribed. Oh, well, yeah, that and alcoholic beverages because... #UmYeahAlcoholismInTheFamilyAndIDontMindAndImOldSoSTFU

It's all right, Daddy. I hear ya. #UmYeahAlcoholismInTheFamilyAndIKindaLikeItAndImAMixologistSoSTFU... I won't allow either of us to endanger anyone else.

So, Uncle Dan. I had been led to believe, by my "old" and alcoholic-but-also-retired-RN Daddy, that Uncle Dan was likely on his "last leg". We drove over there yesterday at lunchtime, but not for lunch. We had been instructed to come "having had" (that's typical of film sets, btw), because Uncle Dan only eats when he's hungry. Still... I didn't want to arrive without food, in case our visit might be (normal for me but) on the long side for either of the older men (older than ME, of course). So, since Daddy's female bff kept emptying her fridge and pantry in our general direction before the grand bff departure back to Canada, I just packed all of the non-perishables back into the grocery bag she'd left with us, and when Uncle Dan greeted us at the door, I warned him,

"Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts." I don't think he got it. That's okay. He accepted my grocery bag, and after hugs and sit-downs, I never saw that bag again.

Let me just say here that TheOnlyThing that bothers me about Daddy's life on the golf course is that he lives about a million miles away from anyone who matters to him. Sure, he's either walking- or golfcart- distance to his grocery, pharmacy, liquor store, Domino's Pizza, and GYM/Golf Course... but people about whom he cares? That's a drive in a car. That bothers me, at least a little.

***** Uncle Dan Is Not On His Last Leg And Stepping Into His Grave!!!!!***** Just in case you were worried. Sure, he's short as fuck. Sure, he's still (obviously) grieving the loss of his wife. If he can manage to go out into his backyard and inspect the avocados growing on the top branches of his tree without faceplanting in the dirt, I imagine he'll make it past the first year. And if he makes it that far, it will be a little easier, day-by-day, for him to get in a car and visit Daddy, or get on with his life, and survive well into the next Decade, as his younger brother has managed to do. You Go, BOYO! (btw, he and Daddy worked out an "accountability" system, where Uncle Dan sends two texts per day: morning "okay" {or other descriptor} and evening "okay"... with day/time on the message)

That was a pretty short visit, considering we had to drive across Egypt to get there. That's okay... that's my own issue, and I'm all right "owning" that as an issue.

TODAY, after I went to bed at a reasonable hour and awoke TEN hours later (I was exhausted), I came downstairs, heated some corned beef hash for bofus (*"both of us"), and overheard Daddy on the phone with his primary doc's appt/receptionist "desk"... he made an appointment to be seen today at 2:00 p.m. Hmm... in the meantime, we watched two Doctor Who Reboot issues, "Doomsday" and "Runaway Bride". Yay!

On our way out the door, he "confessed" that he'd awoken at 2:30 this morning unable to breathe. Well, unable to catch a full breath. What I'd classify as 50-60% lung capacity breathing, he, as a retired nurse, put at 85-90%. FINE. It FEELS like only filling one lung! Ennyhoo...

We saw Dr. Cooke, and just as I suspected, bff's protestations of "bullshit" whenever he took Daddy to the doc were a bit "glossed over" (probably more by Daddy than doc, but what can doc do if Daddy doesn't agree?), and my input as "middle child" daughter were met with "is this true, Jerry? Whaddya wanna do about it?" ... and I told the doc EVERYTHING that Daddy had "confessed" to me, so...

So Dr. Cooke called over to the hospital ER triage nurse, and ordered a battery of tests, and once we found our way there, we waited less than an hour before they "admitted" him to a room (in the ER) so they could get the ER doc to order said battery of tests.

It was the ER. Things only move as quickly as they can, considering everyone in there is in a bit of an "emergency" situation. Still, his nurse, Andy, was awesome. The doc was as attentive as she need be (but also pretty damn awesome for someone who wouldn't be spending much time with him). Every phlebotomist and tech and orderly we dealt with was awesome. For being there 5 1/2 hours, we were never neglected or treated rudely or unkindly or rushed. In fact, I had to remind Daddy once to be a little "nicer" with the aortic phlebotomist, because I could tell she was new enough to not "get" the sarcasm of a retired RN! Bless her heart, she was sweet, but thinner-skinned than I! (not that I'm thin-skinned, so wth am I saying?)

I began a group text with the family. Uncle Terry didn't recognize all the phone numbers, so he called me back. Just about everyone else group-texted. It felt really good to be able to relay info in real time, even if my medical background is limited. When this test or that test was being run, or we were waiting for results, or now we had results and were just waiting for discharge, all along, if I knew something new, so did the group text. And everyone had something to contribute, so conversation wasn't just one-way. While Daddy and I waited for his discharge, he wrote on the whiteboard: "Andy is a good nurse, even though he is Air Force". When Andy saw the note, he laughed, and whispered to Daddy, "Get the fuck outta my ER, Marine" (or something equally funny and apropos).

My last text message out (after listening to the rental car's computer voice read female bff's and InnerHippie's incoming texts) was "we're home, and we're ingesting proteins and carbs like crazy people, because it's been 10-11 hours since we've had more than a sip of water"... then Daddy took his nite-nite meds, hit the sack shortly after that, and once I'd caught up my Twitter peeps on the sitch, I started this blog.

It's not as late as it has been (of late), so that's good. I'm tired because I spent 6 hours in an icebox. But Daddy has Nothing Wrong With Him *medically, which means, after we've checked in with Dr. Cooke again, and filled the Rx for a rescue inhaler like mine, I'm free to try to get him walking the block again!

Poor Daddy. He probably feels he'd have been better off if he'd been have a stroke or MCI. Oh, well. Too bad, so sad. Suck it up, Buttercup. You-n-me are gonna be walkin' erryday, until you're strong enough to swing a golf club again. I honestly don't care, as long as you find an activity you can and WANT to do without keeling over!