The Waiter Went the Other Way

So we thought we’d have a little meal delivered

Just the hubby-n-me tonight, no special reason

Placed the order with the coupon of the month

And settled into the night with tummies a grumblin.’

We took care of a little of this and that

Caught up on the news of the day

He has a canoe race tomorrow, me a treatment

Both will go forward on a rainy Saturday.

Surely the restaurant

Was busy or somethin’

As the hours wore on

We hoped we were not forgotten.

But abandoned we were

And the manager had no order

The delivery service never came

And no one got to bother our dog.

Soooooo,

Unfrozen brats and canned green beans

A little granola, some almonds oh yeah

Just add a pat o’ Irish butter dear lad

To fill the bellies ‘fore bed a wee bit unhappy.

The Waiter did not make his Way

To our doorstep this night as hoped

The dog will just have to scare another soul

Or munch the bonus treat they’ll need to bring tomorrow.

He Ain’t Got Drowned, Thank the Lord!

Warning:  Read this until the end!

He left before I woke up and long after I was up in the middle of the night baking him cookies for the race.  Another strange night it was.  I had crashed early in the evening, many hours before my bed time . . . not that there is a usual bed time, that is.  I am still up very late about 2 nights per week yet that is a huuuuge improvement from my years as a night owl.  But my tummy hurt and I just couldn’t stay asleep.  All I could think about was those cookies that I wasn’t able to bake as promised and the risk of my beloved River Bear collapsing in the river the next day.  So I got up and started mixing up the ingredients sometime after 2:00 a.m.  The story was unveiling vividly in my mind as the scent of baking chocolate chips and Irish butter filled the air . . .

My beloved would be paddling a new-to-him Wenonah J203 carbon-fiber marathon canoe, probably putting him at the back of the more accomplished river rats on Saturday.  They all would be pushing their limits in the cold and rainy weather, trying to get back into shape for the upcoming race season.  RB would be no different.  The only difference is that he would be competing with a sinus infection on top of some chronic breathing issues.  The  realization of the risks was just enough to drive the mind wild of a kayaking-turned-canoeing “widow.”  Yeah, I don’t see him much during the Spring-Summer-Fall racing season so temporary paddling “widow” I become!

Today was especially of concern.  If he got a coughing spell when on a remote part of the river, spread out for miles over the course with the other dozen-or-so racers, there’s a good chance that only a real bear in the woods would have heard him struggling.  His  brown, furry cousin probably would not have minded my beloved’s residual garlic breath as he munched on his serendipitous, soggy lunch feast.  But that was not the worst of my worries.  More likely another racer in an equally tippy performance kayak would see my beloved slumping forward, splash into the water to save him, and be unable to do much of anything about it.  I foresaw in my mind’s eye that probably would be LB, of course.

She in her 4-foot 10-inch frame would jump out of her boat, neither one wearing a life jacket despite the cooler water conditions, and wrestle with RB’s muscular/lifeless body as it flopped into the current of the Tippicanoe River:  he almost 70 pounds her senior and her struggling to keep both of them afloat.  The river would win and down he would go.  She would be traumatized and exhausted from the fight against the swirling water, the soaked mass of a man, the expensive boats and paddles flowing downstream, the desperate feeling of not being able to save him no matter how hard she tried.  I could see it all in my mind’s eye, of course, in an instant.  I had been in a similar situation myself just 8 years ago during my first encounter with a performance sea kayak on the Allegheny River.  I feared for my life!

Back at the boat launch or maybe when she could signal for help, LB would desperately reach out.  The fellow racers would leap into action, scouring the shoreline for signs of the man who teased them hours earlier with a craft beer for any seasoned canoeist who could beat him on his maiden voyage that day.  They may or may not find him or his gear.  The rescue boat would eventually arrive, find and take his body to a local hospital for the fateful pronouncement.  The paddlers would stand in a circle at the take-out speechless, none volunteering to call the wife over 100 miles away who had sent along home-baked cookies for the annual meeting afterwards.  No one would be brave enough to call her or maybe the Fire Department would at least leave a message?

Do they ever really tell you all of the news anyways that you need to know when you get a dire phone call at a time like this?  I would then be in my own racing seat as I made the 2-hour drive to the Lafayette area, wondering if I had the right name of the facility where my RB was being held under refrigeration.  Perhaps I would drive from facility to facility searching for my loved one?  And what would they tell me when I found him?  Would anyone be there to tell me the story of what happened?  Would the racers have taken a luscious cookie but gone on home anyways, themselves suffering from the trauma of the friendly competition gone wrong?

And what would I do next?  What about the pup at home, the phone calls that needed to be made?  I would probably have to stay over a few nights to release my hubby’s body to return to our home town on Monday morning and begin preparations for the worst event of my life:  a funeral!  I have done this in the past a few times and it is exceedingly and painfully difficult.  Oh dear, what would become of my elderly family member out of state for whom I have become a measure of a caregiver?  Where would my beloved’s children stay, what would I say when they arrived grieved beyond belief from all over the country and 2 foreign countries?  Holy cow.  Maybe I would just sink and die myself right then and there rather than deal with it all.

Or maybe not.

*************

Twelve hours and 2 naps later, I heard the side door open.  My River Bear was home!!!  I was in shock.  Where did I just go in my mind and my heart for way too many hours?  In what or where have I placed my trust?  And why the heck am I so very needy, so weak, such a worry-wart when the Lord has been faithful to lead me through horrible tragedy dozens of times before.  Is this mental exercise really helpful at any level?  The answer:  NOOOOOOOOOO!!!

I have come to realize that there are a couple of coping mechanisms that come with enduring serious illness for many years that don’t work very well at all in a fit brain.  One of them is living each day with a sense of impending doom.  When virtually every night and every morning for the past 6 years was met with violent convulsive episodes, I lived every day with a sense that bad things were always going to happen.  It was just a matter of time before they did.  Well guess what?  The convulsive episodes don’t happen every night or every morning anymore!  I have got to let go of this “stinking thinking” as we used to say in my 12-step group days.  Husbands virtually  always come home.  And if they don’t right way, they usually have an amazing story to tell that makes you fall in love with them even more!

Another coping mechanism that got exercised in writing this story was that of always needing a contingency plan.  More recently, every time I would plan to do an activity at home or elsewhere I set up alternatives in my mind of what I would do in case I got sick.  I told RB my plans for the day, I had every “rescue remedy” I could think of in a lunch bag with me, and kept running errands until I was exhausted — just in case I was too sick the next few days to leave the house.  As you can see from the bit of paddling fiction above, I listed a few of the questions running through my mind but in my head, many more options and scenarios were playing out in my mental tool box.  What a colossal waste of physical and emotional energy!   While a “scarcity” mindset may work in times of famine or flood, I really don’t need it with me anymore.  Me and the Lord will figure out whatever may come my way.  Geez!

Of course an obvious failed coping mechanism is last on my list today:  a false sense of control.  I cannot predict anything that will happen, good or bad, and neither can you.  If I truly trusted the Lord with my life in times of tragedy and triumph then I would not need these fantasy games to cope with the fact that I have a REAL MAN who LOVES ADVENTURE no matter if he is sick or well.  That makes him who he is!  And his passion for life makes him the man in whom I fell in love over 10 years ago.  No wimpy dude over here!  He pushes the limits to the admiration of his peers and sweat of his competitors because that is just how he is wired.  I guess I am still understanding how different we are, how different the Lord wired each of us.  It is a beautiful thing really.  And, Lord willing, my beloved will always be home at night in pretty darn good shape too, I will add!  :J

Proverbs 3:5-6 (NIV)

Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
    and he will make your paths straight.

So the next time my man goes out to do that which he is called to do, I will pray for him and for me both!  I will not respond with fear but anticipation of some great stories in which I may one day join in, Lord willing, as I get stronger each day.  The day is coming soon when I will want to venture myself out into newer, uncharted waters, so-to-speak knowing that my Lord and King is already there, cheering for both me and my River Bear.  This could really be a fun summer after all.  I often cheer, “Goooooo Steeeeeve” from the side of various rivers when my beloved’s paddle hits the water at the sound of the starting gun.  Maybe it’s time for a little, “Gooooooo Julie” too?

Stay tuned.  There’s always another story waiting to be told around here for you Gentle Reader.  The water awaits!  JJ

Stellar, SR, paddling, woman, kayak, kayaking, wing paddle, carbon fiber

Me in my Stellar SR surf ski in 2011

Scorpius, outrigger canoe, OC1, Hawaiian, boat, man, paddling, life jacket, racing, buoy, turn, marathon, River Bear

My River Bear leading the pack at the bouy turn on the St Joe River, Fort Wayne, Indiana in July of 2015

2013 Livin Lite Camplite 16 DB for Sale!

Camplite, Livin Lite, aluminum, travel, trailer, camping, camper, available, mold avoidance, clean, chemical free, avoidance, sabbatical

 

As we explore our options for some upcoming changes in our lives, we are placing our beloved Tin Can Ranch up for sale.  This Livin Lite Camplite 16 DB is virtually mold and chemical free making it ideal for folks who are taking a health sabbatical or travelling with persons chemically sensitive.

Here is the listing.  Please contact me below with your email address with inquiries.  Take care and happy travels!  JJ

2013 Livin Lite Camplite 16 DB for Sale

Clarity Came to the Caregiver

Sometimes the moments of frustration break away to clarity and decision.  Gratefully, the crisis is over for now in our care-giving responsibilities.

Recently I vented about the stress and trials of caring for a family member at a distance.  She is having difficulties making decisions.  She is having difficulty trusting anyone to help her despite reaching out to a few family members to do just that.  Then she changes just about everything after you have helped her establish according to her wishes at the time.  I am concerned for her safety.  Mostly I have been concerned for my own sanity and stress level, caring for a lady for whom nothing is quite good enough.  What a tough place for us both to find ourselves.

So we will back away for now until she finds that she really needs us.  Her summer visit is now cancelled.  Her indecision really is a decision of sorts!  My beloved saint of a hubby and I will see this family member within a month where we will regroup in person.  Until then I will focus on the tasks of recovery from my own serious illness.  More about that next . . .

Fiji, water, patio, covered porch, Indiana, Spring, garden, relaxing, healthy food, carrots, Bible reading, prayer time, shade sail, flagstone

This Distance Caregiver Thing

I may not be cut out to be a personal caregiver.  After 3 decades of working as a healthcare professional and caring for a thousand or more adults over my career, you would think that this would come easy for me.  It is not.

It’s one thing to work with up to twenty different personalities in a single day for 30 to 60 minutes at a time, trying to facilitate a therapeutic experience that is meaningful for the person and billable to his or her insurance company.  I learned to quickly develop a rapport with each individual, turn our focus to the therapy evaluation and treatment process, and wrap it all up with a plan for the next session or discharge.  Often the most challenging patients were put on my schedule because of my experience working in mental health settings and with persons diagnosed with dementia.  Many were depressed, angry, resistant, unable to focus for more than a brief moment, or simply were not coherent at all.  I would often have to come back to a person’s room several times a day or miss my own lunch break to facilitate a feeding session during his or her mealtime while my tummy growled.  There were the difficult families, co-therapists who would “steal” your patient throwing off your schedule, the CNAs who wouldn’t bring the client to the clinic, or the patient who almost always needed a diaper change before we could fit in any therapeutic activities.  Standing tolerance, functional transfers, and self care were easy goals to fit in when the nursing staff just couldn’t fit in the care needs of their residents; occupational therapy gotter done.  I wiped a lot of bums in the process.

It’s another thing to try to help an aging family member 1,000 miles away with a range of personality, behavioral, cognitive, and early physical changes.  I am having difficulty managing the frustration of dealing with a person who can make decisions one day and not the next, seem to engage in manipulation/pity partying/whining then be as sweet as sugar, ruminate on minute details for hours, and complain more than converse about most everything else.  She has changed this past year for sure then other times she seems just like her old self.  I just didn’t see some of these more difficult characteristics before this year and before I understood that the diagnosis of a brain disease has made everything in her life more complicated.  Of course she wants to make her own decisions and we agree.  Of course it is hard even a year after diagnosis to accept that she is having problems and needs help.  And when depression, anxiety, and compulsive tendencies take over, it is nearly impossible to help her to keep moving forward.  I just don’t know what to say or do sometimes.

I could do nothing.  My husband and I could do nothing.  Instead we have offered to help and have devoted probably 100 hours of such thus far.  She has asked to stay with us this summer then backpedaled when picking apart every detail of the visit that will not be perfect, problem that will not be solved in the way she would like.  I am sorry.  We just cannot move across country to cater to your every need in sunny Florida my dear!  There are always limitations to what any caregiver, professional or family member, can do for a person in need.  We will likely continue to help her and have started to set some boundaries too.  I am still in recovery from a serious illness and, while I can do more than when I first discovered her illness just 3 months ago, there are limits.  Should she come she will have to contribute some financially and is reluctant to do so.  She will need to follow the routines of our household and is reluctant to do so.  She will need to leave a tropical climate for the ravages of the four seasons in the Midwest and is reluctant to do so.  She wants to see what it would be like to live with us but isn’t sure she wants to come for a visit.  Whatcha gonna do lady?

Tonight I am frustrated.  The Lord has set me on a path to healing with a trip to a medical specialist that happened to reside in a town near my beloved family member out of state.  It seemed to be providential that I would spend some time caring for her as I could when in town for medical visits.  We prepared for each trip for many hours on the phone and followed up for many more thereafter.  I helped her with 2 day-long projects in-person with great physical consequences for me after the last time I was in her town:  travelling alone for the first time in over a decade and only 5 weeks into recovery from a new treatment that is working!  Geez oh man.  I just don’t know how much more I can do until I am further along in my healing process.

The stress of caring for my beloved family member, even at a distance, is weighing heavily on my heart and frame tonight.  I know I am called to help her some.  The amount is unclear for every time I set a boundary there is push-back.  My ability to manage stress has changed since battling a serious illness  for over six years.   I am saying no, making things as clear as I can.  My hubby wants to accommodate her this summer (and permanently if desired) as best we can yet to do so could create some financial and scheduling chaos.  My beloved family member is not yet willing to consider some things that we see need to be done for her personal protection and safety long-term.  We understand that these are big decisions.  However, waiting seems to just foster more indecision on her part, more stress on our part as her potential caregivers.  Dear Lord, what shall we do?

We are grieved that my family member has strained relationships with several family members who are not fully ready to attend to all that is needed to care for her.  She hasn’t been able to talk directly with them yet which puts us in an awkward situation with them should she have us proceed in our role as caregivers.  We are grieved for the sorrows that her and her children have endured trying to make sense of the heartaches in their pasts and how it strains their relationships today.  Conversely, I have only good memories with my family member so I’d like to think that I am a little more level-headed in honoring her wants and needs.  Who knows?  It is still hard to care for her varying emotional states on a daily basis.  Good golly, why still struggle when there are two people who love you, seem to care about you the most right now, and are willing to invest their time and energies in doing so?  Help us out here my dear:  will you be spending the summer with us or not?  Will we be making some major purchases to help make the visit more comfortable for all of us or not?  I do hope we know the answers to these questions in a couple of days.  This distance caregiver thing is running me ragged!

Stay tuned, Gentle Reader.  We are praying for guidance, peace, and the same for our family.  Let’s all take a deep breath and take care, k?  JJ