Day 3 and I still can't find my pants...

(BTW, it's called "poetic license". I know where my pants are now. 😌)

Don't take flat surfaces for granted.  Without the luxury of furniture in our new home, useful flat surfaces can be hard to come by.  This became especially apparent this morning, my first day working from home in the new digs.

I feel I should preface this by pointing out that I/we will have a dedicated home office space.  Someday.  Actually, the hubby is painting said space right now, and there's a stack of IKEA boxes in the middle of the room, and my intended new desk is hopefully on the shelf at the store waiting to be purchased and brought home.  

Which is good, because the only sufficient flat surface I could find this morning was the bay window in the living room.  The window where most of my plants are housed right now, because the plant stand is still at the old house, and other than than, I haven't figured out where to put any of them yet.  Thankfully, yesterday the hubby brought some chairs (including my office chair) over from the old house, otherwise I'd probably be working from bed or the floor today.  So yes, I pulled my office chair up to the bay window, and here I am.  

I really cannot complain, though.  It's a lovely view.  Beside the fact that I'm surrounded by plants (which is a good thing), the view from my "desk" today is the woods in front of our house.  Even though the trees are bare (except, of course, the six little pine trees on the other side of the driveway) it's still calming and peaceful.  This morning I got to watch three blue jays flitting about in the leaves and in the trees, and the occasional squirrel or two gathering acorns.  It's official -- I'm a freaking Disney princess.  Bippity boppity boo!

Nah, but things are going as well as can be so far.  We're figuring out where things should go, and trying to remember where they went after we put them away, and rebuilding our supply of food and dishes and towels.  We left a lot of stuff behind for the boy in the old house, so win-win-win because it meant we had less to move, the boy has a nice "starter" base, and we get to buy NEW STUFF!!  I'm not usually a "new stuff" kind of person, but setting up a new house with new stuff can be fun!

Oh yeah, and that's the reason we don't have living room or dining room furniture yet.  We left that at the old house, because it fit the old house, and we didn't have to move it, and the boy needed that stuff anyway.  We haven't figured out what "look" we want for the living room yet, exactly, so haven't begun furniture shopping in earnest yet.  Thankfully, the internet is good for window shopping, and figuring out what you DON'T want is just as important as knowing what you do want. 

Alright, I gotta let the pupper outside and then get back to work. Toodles!

 

I like to move it, move it.

 New places always make us look at life differently.

Ain't that the truth?! Actually, the above quote -- which I found by Googling "quotes about moving to a new place" -- sounds to me like it's meant to be more about travelling than moving to a new home.  But I don't feel like writing about travelling right now, and it fits both scenarios, so roll with me here.

The closing went off without a hitch!  That was on Wednesday afternoon.  We went to the closing with the truck loaded up with totes, so after the papers were signed we went to the new place and I worked on unpacking totes and cleaning the fridge while the hubby changed all the locks.  Then we went around and tried to figure out all the light switches.  ;)  Seriously!  This place has more damn light switches than anywhere I've ever lived.  I almost feel like labelling all of them until I get it figured out.  Almost.

I'm going out of order already. Wednesday morning, we got up early and went out to breakfast together, then went and bought painting supplies and picked out new colors for a few of the rooms, and picked up some more cleaning supplies and other stuff.  

Thursday morning we got up early again and brought more stuff over and unpacked.  Instead of putting everything in cardboard boxes, we're using heavy-duty totes, and then unpacking them right away so we can fill them up again.  It's actually working out better than I thought it would, because the totes fit together well and we don't have to collect cardboard boxes (or dispose of them afterward) and it also forces us to unpack right away. Mostly.  We only took one load over on Thursday, because we then took Thanksgiving Dinner (lasagna, salad, and breadsticks. And of course pies!) over to my parents' house.  My Dad went home from the TCU on Tuesday and things seem to be going very well so far!  

I'm going out of order again. It's been a busy week!  I took Tuesday as a PTO day so I could bring my Dad home and help him get settled back in.  That was an emotional day!  My Dad cried when we got there to pick him up.  He was in a wheelchair, not because he necessarily needed it but because it was easier to move him that way.  Honestly, the VAMC is a huge place and going anywhere involves a lot of walking.  So actually, I had both of my parents in wheelchairs, because my Mom (still being just three weeks status post hip replacement surgery) didn't feel up to doing all that walking, either.  It made me wish there was such a thing as double wheelchairs.  My Dad, who went to the VAMC wearing just a t-shirt, socks, and underwear, came home with three bags and two boxes of stuff.  I brought less than that home after birthing a baby...but I digress.  He looked great, and is moving around so much better than he did before. I just hope he keeps up with the in-home PT and moving around more at home so he doesn't get deconditioned again.

ANYWAY...today's Friday, right?  I'm so lost.  This morning we got up early again, and the hubby loaded up the tractor on the car trailer, and put some full totes in the truck, and headed over to unload the tractor and start painting while the boy and I worked on packing the totes, loading up the truck, driving to the new place, unpacking the totes, and then doing it all over again.  I'm feeling pretty accomplished, we got four loads taken over (one in the Equinox and three in the truck) today.  Got the stuff in the totes unpacked, too.  Not put away yet, because most of what we brought over today is stuff from my craft room, and I don't have any idea how I'm going to organize that area yet, but right now in my basement it looks like I'm having a poorly-organized rummage sale.  In my mind, I was going to have time to sort through all that before moving it to a new house, but oh well.  

The new place is starting to look and feel more like home, with a couple of glaring exceptions...we don't have any furniture over there yet!  We're moving the bedroom furniture over tomorrow, and haven't decided what we want for living room and dining room furniture yet.  We also need some bar stools for the breakfast bar/island.  And a couple of desks for the office, which we don't have but we know what we're getting -- just have to go to IKEA and buy them.  

So! That's what I've been up to lately.  Slowly emptying the place we called "home" for just over 17 years of most of our belongings, and hauling them all to a new place that feels like someone else's house right now.  Although that feeling fades by the hour when I'm actually there, as expected.  Tomorrow we'll start the first phase of actually living there, which will be a lot easier with the bedroom furniture moved over and the fridge full of real food (and not just Diet Dew and Arizona Green Tea).  

My main Deep Thought about the last few days' activities is that moving is a young person's game.  I am so sore! The kind of sore where if you stop moving for a few minutes, your muscles start to stiffen.  For the first time, moving things over a little at a time feels like it's just going to prolong the agony.  Alright, I'm exaggerating slightly; it's not agonizing.  It's not even pain as much as it is fatigue. Especially after today.  Which is also to be expected, I mean I have been pretty sedentary lately, so I really shouldn't complain.  I'm also highly motivated to get everything over there so I can start settling in, so it's really not a big deal.  

Except that it's also cold and I have my Winter Chill on already.  And yes, that deserves capitalization because it's a seasonal thing here in the upper Midwest, a sign that fall has fallen and winter is taking over.  It's that permanently cold feeling that gets in the core of your bones, when you realize that you're cold all the time but most of the time you don't even notice anymore, and no amount of layering seems to help.  In fact, the only temporary relief is taking a hot shower, as hot as you can tolerate.  This would happen whether we were moving or not, but it's been exacerbated this year by being outside so much already.  Oh, well.  Life goes on.

Speaking of which, I should go fill up some more totes.  A few days/weeks ago, I was feeling bad because I wasn't around here much to help with the packing and cleaning and such.  That feeling is gone now -- I feel like I'm caught up, ha ha ha.

Alright!  Thanks for reading.  I'm signing off now, because the cord for my laptop was moved to the new place already, and also because I really should go help pack more totes.  The sooner we get packed, the sooner it will be our new home and not just "the new place"!!  Toodles.

The countdown begins!

Ladies and gentlemen, we might actually get to close on the new place, after all. The scheduled closing time is about 50 hours away, so that could still change (😫) but I'm hopeful that we're on the real final stretch and that the end is in sight. 

Or should that be, the beginning is in sight?!  Trick question! Both are correct.

I laugh at myself when I look back at previous posts here (which is another great reason to start a blog, if you haven't already), specifically the one from 10/29/21 where I was going on and on and on about the "new normal" of life after COVID.  It's so cute, in hindsight, to read about what was on my mind at that moment.  Don't get me wrong, my COVID experience was horrible, but I haven't had much time to think about it since writing that entry.  

I realized the other day that things taste somewhat normal (or what I remember they should taste like) again. I don't know when that happened.  My sense of smell is pretty much back, too, although occasionally muted by nasal congestion and post-nasal drip.  I had a random coughing attack the other night, which was probably acid reflux and not a respiratory concern.  I think I have more headaches now than I did pre-COVID, but that could be for so many other reasons, too.  Most notable is that I can have random symptoms like that and my first thought isn't, "I hope this isn't COVID!"  😷

My Dad will be discharged from the TCU tomorrow and coming home.  Tomorrow will be 3.5 weeks since he was last home, and since the last time he saw my Mom.  That's a long time -- nearly the entire month of November.  It seems like the whole world has changed since then, but has it, really?  The biggest change is that my Mom went through hip replacement surgery, but that's not really anything you'd pick up on if you didn't know.  Other than there being a walker in the living room, and a random cane here and there, there aren't any outward signs in the house that she went through any of that.  I did take some pictures to show my Dad when he gets back to try to make it more "real" for him (nothing graphic, just pics of my Mom's x-rays and pics of the incision when we first took the bandage off).  I know if I was away from my spouse for almost a month, and he'd gone through something traumatic like that in our absence, I would want to see pics or something to get a better feel for what he had been through.  

The biggest change will be that my Dad isn't supposed to drive anymore, but that's not even the end of the world.  He hasn't been driving much, anyway, and my parents already have resources that they've been using for transportation to various places.  It does make me sad, even though I've known for a while that this was coming.  And while it makes me sad for my Dad (because I can't imagine a Car Guy's feelings when being told not to drive anymore...) it also brings me a huge wave of relief.  

The other "change" is more of a formal acknowledgement, in that it's now been officially recognized that my Dad has dementia.  But this isn't really a change that's going to drastically throw "normal" life out the window, either, because it's been "there" for so long that it's not news to me, or my Mom, or anyone who is close to my Dad.  It hasn't suddenly worsened or anything, it's just finally been clinically evaluated.  Which also brings me more relief, to have it acknowledged as a fact, and out in the open.  I struggled with this muchly when my Dad was first hospitalized, about the guilt of knowing it was there but not actually doing anything about it, but I had a long talk one day with one of his doctors who tried to assure me that I shouldn't feel like I did anything wrong.  That things like this happen so gradually, families adjust to the changes gradually as well.  I wanted to yell -- that's all fine and good, but I work in freaking healthcare and should have known better.  And she pointed out that there's nothing I could have done or can do now to change anything, anyway.  She said I shouldn't feel bad that I "missed" anything, because I didn't.  I don't know; it's still an emotionally sensitive topic for me, but I know she's right.  I'm a daughter first and a nurse after that.  It's not my job to diagnose everyone in my family (lol).  I'll resolve this internal struggle, eventually, probably.

In the meantime, I have a few hours left of work and then I'm off for six whole days!!  Crazy, I know.  Tomorrow I'm picking up my Dad in the late morning and bringing him back home, and helping him get settled back in, and then tomorrow evening we have the final walk-through at the new place.  Oh my gosh, you guys, tomorrow night I get to sleep in my own bed again!  I can't wait!  Then Wednesday afternoon is our closing, and after that we'll go to the new place to do some measuring etc. and start moving some things in.  Thursday, Turkey Day, we'll move some stuff over in the morning, and then in the afternoon bring food in and have Turkey Day dinner at my parents' house.  Friday, Saturday, and Sunday -- and probably most of the otherwise-unaccounted-for moments for the foreseeable future -- will be cleaning, painting, and moving, organizing, unpacking, lather, rinse, repeat.  

Alright, I have to get back to work now.  TTFN and thanks for reading!

Where do I belong?

I'm so confused. 

I don't know where I belong.  I've been staying at my parents' house for over a week now.  I lived in this house for almost 20 years, it's not a strange place to me.  The décor has changed, but it's the same structure.  It's a comfortable place, it's a familiar place, but it's not my place.  

45 miles to the east is my current residence.  It's also a comfortable and familiar place, but it feels less and less like "home" every time I'm there.  Our décor is being packed up, and for the last few months I've been mentally preparing myself to leave.  My time there is limited, and has been cut even shorter now that I've spent the last almost 2 weeks at my parents'.  And like my parents' home, it will always feel familiar but soon, it won't be my place anymore.

20 miles to the north of that is another place, a place that I've only seen once in my life, but will soon be the stage for the next chapter in our lives, the first place we will live without our son.  Not counting the place we lived when we first got married, but that doesn't really count because we did end up living there with him, after he was born, ha, ha, ha.  In my mind, I've been trying to prepare myself for this move as well: to have a new home base, a new town to claim as "home". I've looked at the pictures of the house (from the online real estate ad) countless times, trying to recall my fading memories of what it was like in person, mentally unpacking our belongings and organizing things and decorating and making it our home.  But it's not my place yet, either.  Right now it's still someone else's home.  The only thing tying me there right now is a bunch of paperwork.  

Don't mind me. I've had a lot of time to think about a lot of things lately.

=============================================================

I started writing this a few days ago. When I first started writing it, I was having a bit of a pity party, which I don't even want to admit right now.  Changes can be challenging, even if they're only temporary, but especially if they're open-ended.  And it's not like things are going to go back to exactly the way they were before, because that's not how life works.  But when I started writing this, and was thinking about how my home base has changed recently and will change again soon, I was at that tiresome point where I was sleep-deprived and stressed out and a little down and not knowing when things were going to progress.  I don't want to whine (well, not much, anyway...) because other people are feeling worse than I am right now, and this I know for a fact because I'm temporarily living with one of them, and talking on the phone a couple times a day with another.  I really am honored that I am in the position to be able to help out in this situation.  It brings me so much peace to not have to worry about how my parents are doing right now.  As much as I miss being with my hubby every day, and sleeping in my own bed, it makes my heart happy to be able to be here right now.  

While all of this existential pondering is going on, the saga of settling on a closing date for the new place continues as well.  I can't even tell you off the top of my head anymore how many amendments we've signed for this deal.  I hate to complain because we did say we'd be flexible with the closing date so the sellers could find a new place, but we presumed that the sellers at least had a game plan and that they wouldn't wait until the last minute to decide to ask about changing the date!  Our original closing date has now come and gone.  The amended closing date, the ones the sellers finally proposed in writing, was declined by the title company.  I wanted to cry.  There have been a lot of times in the last 2 weeks that I've wanted to cry, but I haven't.  Not because I've been telling myself not to cry, but I just don't really feel like crying.  I either haven't reached that point yet, or I'm handling everything better than I thought I was. ;)

Closing Date #3 has been set.  Today we received the confirmation email from the title company.  If the sellers proposed another change right now...too bad, so sad.  No more amendments.  That's the closing date and we're sticking to it.  We've been flexible and more than generous, and our realtor has also been working his ass off to get this settled for us.  I bet he wishes we were paying him by the hour ;).  Last weekend, we started buying new furniture for the new place. But it still seems surreal to me, and because of the person I am, I can't get my hopes up yet.  

Meanwhile, in St. Paul, my Mom is making most excellent progress since her hip replacement surgery two weeks ago today!  I'm impressed!  Her mobility is pretty much back to her baseline, and I'm helping her get through all of her follow-up appointments and such.  And over in Minneapolis, my Dad is making progress as well in the TCU.  Or so I hear, based on telephone conversations with his nurses, doctor, and social worker.  Not being able to see my Dad or his current situation has been very difficult and challenging.  And knowing that he's in a strange place and confused about what's going on has made it even more difficult.  But we've worked through some issues and apparently he is working hard on his physical therapy as well, because today his expected discharge date was moved from December 3rd to November 23rd.  Insert happy dancing here!

So, that's where we're at now.  There is light at the end of the tunnel and it's not the headlight of the oncoming train.  :)

One day at a time, sweet Jesus

That's all I'm asking of You

Just give me the strength to do everyday
What I have to do...

It's amazing what six solid hours of sleep can do for a person.  ("A person" meaning me.) Even if that sleep is obtained while in a recliner in a different house in a noisy neighborhood while a person is also half-listening for another person's activity.  

Long story short: my Mom broke her hip last weekend. She had  total hip replacement on Tuesday and was discharged home on Thursday.  The last time my Mom was a patient in the hospital was just over 47 years ago, when she gave birth to a legend.  (Yes, that would be me!)

On the same day that my Mom broke her hip, my Dad was taken to the ER for what ended up being a COPD exacerbation and generalized weakness.  I mean, the ambulance taking him to the ER had literally just pulled away, and my Mom had gone back into the house to turn off the TV and call for a ride and lock up the house, and she was walking back outside to wait for her ride when BAM, femoral head fracture.

So, not to make this all about me because it certainly is NOT (oh, who am I kidding?! It's my blog, of course it's about me.) but that's how I started the Craziest Week of 2021 (So Far): trying to get a hold of my Dad in the ER at one hospital in one of the Twin Cities (which was a task in and of itself because this particular facility apparently has a rule against transferring calls to ER patients...) to let him know that the reason my Mom wasn't at the hospital with him yet was because she was in the ER at a different hospital in the other of the Twin Cities, while also trying to keep in touch with my Mom to find out the extent of her injuries and her treatment plan.  And as much as I wanted to drop everything and run to the cities so I could see what was going on myself, I was pretty sure I wouldn't be allowed into any ER with the current COVID visitor restrictions.  Not only that, but I myself was only one day out of my COVID isolation period, and I was living with someone who was only halfway through their COVID isolation period as well.  So I stayed home and made phone calls and freaked the hell out.  I can handle one parent being hospitalized -- my Dad has been hospitalized a few times over the past few years, so this wouldn't have been the first time I stepped up to help out, and I'm glad to do so. But the added stress of my Mom being hospitalized (when she hadn't been hospitalized for, like I said, 47 years. And the last time was my fault, ha ha ha.) and trying to be there for both of them...well, I mean I guess now I know I can handle that as well, but for a while, it was iffy.

For me.  Not for them.  

Because I don't feel like reliving all of the details of the last week right now, I'll conclude with a Current Update.  My Mom is doing very well; today is post-op day 4, and her 2nd full day home, and she's doing great! She's very motivated to get back to baseline.  I'm staying with her for the time being until she gets back on her feet and regains the confidence and comfortability to be home alone.  I don't think it will take long.  Although, I will also have to reach an acceptable level of confidence and comfortability of her being home alone at night before that happens, too.  Heh.  My Dad spent, let's see, 6 days as an inpatient while his COPD was treated and the exacerbation resolved, and then was on a waiting list for short-term rehab to rebuild his strength.  He got into the short-term rehab (for lack of another term that I hate to use...) yesterday and as far as we can tell, is doing well.  He can't have visitors in the short-term rehab center, which sucks big fat donkey balls.  I'm a visual person. I don't like just getting info over the phone, I'd rather do it in person. I want to see for myself what this facility is like, what the people are like, etc.  

So my first few days back to work in the office after COVID went something like: try to get as much work done as possible while also keeping an eye on my cell phone to make sure I don't miss any important calls, then as soon as I could possibly manage to get out of the office (meaning when we were done seeing in-person patients) I would go to one hospital (usually the VA) and visit with one parent for a while, then go to the other hospital (Regions) and visit the other parent.  Then drive home, try to catch up with the hubby, debrief with him for a bit, then try to fall asleep so I can get up at o-early-hundred and do it all again.  It was utterly exhausting.   Then on Thursday morning, my Mom called before I even left for work and said she was being discharged that day, and could I pick her up and spend the night at the house (which we had already discussed)?  

SUNDAY 11/07/2021

Another two-day blog post. Yay! 

Anyway. I've been staying at my parents' house since last Thursday night, staying with my Mom while she recovers from emergency hip replacement surgery.  Which, at this point (POD #5!) is mostly emotional support.  She's doing awesome physically. Much better than she thought she would. She thought she would basically be an invalid for a few weeks. Good thing I'm a nurse and knew that wouldn't be the case.

The closing on our new place has been postponed a few weeks.  Not related to any of the above.  I'm bummed but not completely heartbroken, because of the above.  Hopefully in a few more weeks, I'll have more time to help.  I'm a pretty useless wife lately.  

It's been weird staying here again. Well, it was at first.  It's not as if my parents left my room the same when I moved out, or anything like that.  They don't have a spare bed or even a sleeper sofa anymore.  They do have two recliners and a loveseat.  I've been sleeping in my Dad's recliner. It's not horrible. I've slept in a lot more uncomfortable and inconvenient places (like the old "couch" in the OB waiting room at the old hospital where I used to work...lol).  

But I'm not used to how fricking loud the city is! Holy crap! There are cars driving by, bass pumping, car doors slamming shut, people yelling, tires screeching, all hours of the night. OK, not like constantly, but enough to keep me on Alert.  For the last 17 years, I've lived in the nice, quiet country, where occasionally a car drives by or a train rolls by in the distance, and if I heard someone yelling outside my window I'd be flipping the fuck out.  

However, the 20 minute drive to work is nice...heh.  Not nice enough that I want to move closer to work, or find a job closer to home, but it is nice to have a temporarily shorter drive.  

Alright, I'm gonna sign off for now.  Most of what is on my mind isn't fit to share in here, out of respect for my parents' privacy and my sanity.  But if you're the praying kind, could you please keep us in your prayers? God will know why.

Thanks. 

I can't think of a witty Title.

I'd like to see where in the Bible it says that God will never give you more than you can handle, please.  And if it's there, I'd like to file an official complaint.

Don't go Googling scripture now, just because I'm being sarcastic.  Truth be told, that saying amuses me muchly.  God knows that we can't handle much on our own, so He doesn't give us more than HE can handle. And He can handle anything.  

Tonight's ramblings are brought to you by lack of sleep and increase of stress secondary to sudden onset of parental caretaker responsibilities.  As evidenced by (funny, I don't think I've used the term "as evidenced by" since nursing school, and now I'm having flashbacks to writing care plans) I don't even know what I was going to write next, I just wanted to use "as evidenced by" in a sentence. Next!

If you ever get COVID and want to find a way to snap yourself out of a post-COVID funk really quickly afterward, I'll tell you what works: having both of your parents come down with major medical issues. At the same time.  It helps if you're basically the only child, too, and as an added bonus to keep you on your toes, make sure each parent is hospitalized at a different hospital, preferably in two different cities (neither of which should be the city of your residence).  That is a completely effective way to forget your own problems for a while.  Oh, eventually (and actually, it won't even take that long...) your body will remind you that you're not as young as you think you are anymore, and that you are still recovering from COVID and should be taking it easy yourself.  However, as the #1 daughter, you will push that aside and do what needs to be done to take care of your parents.  Because, dammit, the people gave you life.  They raised you. They made you the awesome person you are today.  It doesn't matter that you didn't always get along when you were growing up, and even sometimes still don't see eye to eye, because you just step up and do what needs to be done.  It can't rain all the time, right? You can sleep later.  Perspectives change suddenly.  Welcome to adulthood.  And if you are fortunate enough to also be a nurse or other caregiver, who does this kind of thing for a living as they say, it will be both a blessing and a curse.  A blessing, because you'll know how the "system" works and what to expect, and also because you'll already be professionally trained in the best and safest ways to literally just take care of people.  A curse, because everyone needs to just turn their professional mind off for a while. But, that's what comes with working in health care.  You can't get away from it, even when you're not on the clock.  It's everywhere.  

ANYWAY...I just needed to write a bit to organize some thoughts and vent a bit.  I'm mentally exhausted, but physically not too bad right now.  I don't even feel like explaining everything that has happened since my last post right now, that's how tired I am.  I should sign off and get some sleep until midnight when I have to wake up and be a nurse again.  But I don't mind -- I've spent years and years and thousands of hours doing this kind of thing for people I'd never met before and may likely never see again; it's really quite an honor to be able to care for people who mean the absolute world to me.

I just hope my car doesn't get broken into, stolen, or operated on (i.e. catalytic converterectomy) overnight.  That would suck.  

Good night!