Life Goes On - Even Without Carole

I wonder if this healing would have been easier if I were younger? I don't think of my age, 69, but it must be a factor.

I don't like that the physical therapists talk about 'guarding' as if it's something I do on purpose. It's instinctual, unconscious, an animal response. It just is.

Just did a mini-book review for the IRB's list of holiday gift-giving suggestions. 44 Scotland St., Alexander McCall Smith. I guess it makes me feel better to be contributing, to be writing, thinking, even to see myself in print. Carter asked me to do a book review, gave me two books to choose from, but I turned him down. I find book reviewing very stressful, and think I'll wait until I'm more 'back together.'

I'm doing the exercises religiously. They hurt.

I have to get some more Pain-a-Trait from Jenny. It really does calm the pain after the exercises, and is better than gulping more Tylenol or Vicodin. I don't know whether she made the trip to Wisconsin, but I haven't heard from her, and so assume that she's been gone. My neighbor Pearl rang the bell last night to ask, "What's with Carole? She's in the hospital. Been there for five days." We stood outside the door - I don't invite her in because I'm not sure I could get her to leave - and I told her that she'd been in the hospital a couple of times since she moved into Pohai Nani. Pearl said that she ran into Chris going into Carole's apartment to get some more clothes for her, well, really, his apartment. She asked him if Carole was going to come back to live here, and he said, and she said that he was vehement, "Absolutely not! It's my property, and I do not want her living here."

Pearl was aghast at his attitude. I explained to her that Carole's repeated binges have posed a constant threat of one of them having to go in to check on her and find her dead. With her living at Pohai Nani, the PN staff would be who would find her. All that they would get would be a phone call.

I think that she drinks until she can't drink any more because she just vomits it up, she can't get the 'good' of it because she can't get it into her body. That's when she checks herself into Castle hospital for detox. They keep her sedated, they clean her out, she checks out, goes home, and heads straight for her comfort, her bottle. The relief must be wonderful. But, I think that the periods between hospital stays are getting shorter and less fulfilling. I've expected her death for the last year, but the expectation grows and grows. I can just imagine the funeral - or will there be a funeral? It's quite likely that Chris and Jenny will say, well, Nana wasn't religious, she didn't belong to a church, she didn't believe in God, etc. However, Jenny does like ritual and perhaps she will arrange for cremation and scatter the ashes. I'd like to be there.

I'm thinking about what to tell the psychiatrist when on go next week. The most significant things, I think, would be that life has a tinge of unreality to it. Sometimes I wonder if I really died or was paralyzed, and have been dreaming that I was relatively okay, and will wake up and find that it's not true. And, that I keep waiting for another shoe to drop--another terrible, unexpected, life-altering thing to happen. I'm very anxious in the car, especially when Sachi is driving, but also when I'm driving--part of that is that my left arm isn't entirely usable and I don't feel as though I have complete control of the car. But, in traffic it seems to me that everyone is going too fast, cars are too close to me, I can't know what is going to happen. I guess that the overriding thought is what we all say we already know, but what we don't really know, not in our guts, that life can change in an instant and we have no control. Control is an illusion. The only 'control' that we can experience is within ourselves, and I think we can work on building that sense of internal security, but that it is partly grace, a gift from God, and if we don't have it, we don't have it.

Best Foot Forward

Did something this morning that I've thought about for at least a month. I walked to the Safeway store, bought the Honolulu Advertiser and walked home. Like many other efforts, I somehow thought that I would be incapable of this. But, I wasn't. I've walked up to Hamakua Dr. several times, and from the corner of Hamakua and Aoloa it's only another 50 yards to the Safeway.

I really couldn't have done this a few weeks ago because I wouldn't have been able to carry the paper. I would have needed my right hand for the cane, and I wouldn't have been able to bear the weight of even a light newspaper with my left hand/arm. But, I'm much stronger now.

Getting stronger every day.

But, light-headed and funny-feeling this morning. Again, poor sleep may be the problem. Cat starts meowing and growling around 3:00 a.m., and I can't figure out why and so can't stop him.

Sunday - another step

Weather is cooperating. We have light trade winds and the terrible humidity has lifted. So, I challenged myself to a new walk - walked to the traffic light at Kailua Rd and Wa'anao, and then beyond that to the first corner. The sun wasn't up yet and the air was deliciously cool and comfortable. I think that must be about the same distance as to Hamakua Dr., only more interesting as it doesn't lead through the condo neighborhood.

And then, to get away from Sachi vacuuming and scrubbing the downstairs bathroom, I drove to Don Quijote and got the ingredients for a chicken stew. I used my folding cart - it's great. A bit heavy, but sturdy and flexible. Finally found it at Fisher of Hawaii after every conceivable place on the windward side told me that they didn't carry them.

Ran into Auntie Mele and two of her sisters at Don Q.

I've got to do my shoulder exercises, but am trying to decide whether to take some Tylenol first. I'm feeling wonky, a little light headed, achy. But, last night, Halloween night I was wakened by the sound of a woman vomiting out in the courtyard garden - it was loud and violent, and I knew that I couldn't be the only person hearing it. I wanted to go to the window and scream, "Stop it!" But, that would have been mean. I wondered if anyone was going to do anything. If she was going to do anything -- well, obviously, she couldn't. Then, two men's voices called out. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but I think something like, "hang on, we'll be right there.' Yes, it was the people next door, Sean and his bull-horn father and the crazy girl. She has to share all of her most intimate moments with the whole world - sex or retching. Anyway, they nipped down to the garden and brought her back upstairs and took her into their apartment. Who knows what was going on.
But, another night of interrupted sleep. Maybe that's why I'm so washed out.

But, two good walking sessions - on the road and in the market.

Starting

Starting out right. I wrote a short, but heartfelt post, and then lost it. That'll teach me to 'save' before I do anything. If something is saved, I can always delete it if I don't want to keep it. But, if I lose it, poof, it's gone. And just found out that the little pencil icon is the way to get back into a post for further editing.