My daughter Pat and hubby Tom came last Friday and hung the big pictures I brought from the house.  It’s starting to feel like home.  I can’t begin to tell you how much better two rooms are than one.  And now that the big pictures are up, I can figure out where the little ones go.  And which wall is going to get the family photos.

They are going on a long awaited vacation next week sailing off the Eastern coast.  Pat has been working since she was 17 without a break.  She sent herself to college by working for the Job-Corps as a dorm supervisor and never quit working.  That was fifty years ago.  She said she would help me hang the rest of the pictures when they got back.  I need help.  And she has been good to help me get through moving. 

Becky is having my estate sale this weekend.  Look at the pictures on Swan Estate Sales.  She is now the #1 Estate company in Oklahoma.  It looks really good the way she has set it up.  I just hate to leave all my pretty stuff behind.  But it’s just stuff.  Kim Larmon is driving up from Pryor to help with it.  The house has sold.  It all seems so final...  I guess it is.

Everything around here shuts down at 4 on Friday.  The main crew leaves for the week, and subs are put in place that are new, seldom the same every weekend, and run late for meds and everything else.  I guess that’s the way the world runs.  It’s frustrating.  I like my meds with food at dinner.  I’m lucky to get them before I go to bed.  It is wonderful at 6 AM on Monday when the professionals come back.

It’s kinda like the military health system.  We used to joke that you better not get sick after it got dark.  When really it wasn’t that bad.

I went to the doctor today.  Hadn’t been in four  or five months.  She declared me good to go.  I am better.  I’m stronger, I’ve gained 15 pounds which I sorely needed--you could see my bones through my skin--after my bout with C-dif.   I’m still 15 pounds underweight, but with the food they feed us here it won’t take long.  I’ve even been eating ice cream and I’ve never liked ice cream.  The food is not bad.  Sometimes it is really good.  The best part is that I don’t have to cook it.  Or do the dishes.

 

 Fridays are squeezed--as in “scheduled time” for a number of things.

7:30 Breakfast

9:00 Exercise

10:00 Drive to pharmacy and get junk and prescriptions for the week

10:30 Hair appointment

11:30 Back home for lunch 

12:30 Recover from all of that--before my great-grandson comes for the afternoon to play “cars” with me.  He gives me the black and white patrol car and my job is to chase him all over the floor to arrest him for speeding.  Needless to say, I am exhausted by the time he goes home.  But it is so much fun to hear him laugh when I catch him.

5:30 supper

6:30 watch the news to see what the latest abomination is.  It seems like it is always bad news anymore.

7:00 Read my Bible to give me peace that God is still in control.

8:00 Fall asleep without planning on it just yet.  Sleep just happens anymore at 8:00 on Friday. 

 I washed my sheets today.  And--no surprise--I couldn’t get them back on.  Fitted sheets are awesome, but the fourth corner is impossible to tuck into place.  It takes a 200 pound heavy-weight to get it done.  One of the aides took pity on me and finished the job, or I would be sleeping on the mattress tonight.

I have three things to keep track of.  Room keys, phone, and jacket.  I inevitably walk off without one of them.  It’s the third item that has caused the problem.  I always had a phone and jacket,  but now, by adding my room key, I need a third hand.  I get a lot of exercise retracing my steps trying to find what I’ve lost.

The only human interaction going on around here is meal time.  Everyone has their own special seat, and you don’t know it is theirs until you sit there, and it throws the entire group awry.  I’ve found two different tables where there is an unclaimed seat and I alternate--but if someone doesn’t show up, I grab their chair.  It’s the only way to meet new peoeple.   There are activities--like exercise, bridge, bingo, etc., but I haven’t been able to get involved in anything but exercise--and that is awful.  I am so out of shape.  But I am doing that. 

I have published two books.  If you haven’t read them, I encourage you to do so.  One of the false beliefs about the book publishing world is that the author is making a lot of money.  Not true.  I get one dollar for each one sold which I will gladly discount to you if you just buy a book--then read it and share it with someone else.  My hope is that you will learn something about how life is lived in difficult settings.

 

The first book is a story about the hardship of military children when their dad goes to war.  And the difficulties of moving every year or two.   And the frustrations moving presents when they try to make friends.  They sadly learn not to get too close to others--because they will soon move and never see them again.

The second book is a factual novel set in Macau, China that covers the difficulties my brother faced living an underground life as a missionary to China for 37 years.  Set in the 70s when China was closed to American citizens.  And the underground life he led--getting in and out of multiple countries without being arrested--or worse. 

“The Letter” was an Oklahoma Best Seller.  Everyone who has read either one of the books has encouraged me with their kind words.  I have a third book coming out in a few months.  “The Corsair Pilot.”

I don’t write fiction.  I write about things I know about in “fictional-faction.”   I hope you enjoy what I have written.  Stories based on the real life of real people.

 I am having a “procedure”  today.  As far as I am considered, it’s not just a “procedure” because they are going to put me to sleep.  I had surgery for breast cancer 14 years ago and even though it had spread into a lymph node, after chemo, I recovered.  However, one of the lingering side effects is lymphedema in in my right arm.  

Sometimes when I scratch myself--or unconsciously forget and pick at the skin on a fingernail--I end up in the hospital with the entire arm infected--and they keep me three days or so--to hook me up to antibiotics intravenously--which is irritating.  But, I thank God for modern medicine or I guess the infection would kill me?  

They’ll go through a vein (?) in my arm up to my neck and basically will roto-rooter it.  I have no idea what that helps do. I just trust God and the prayers of my friends and family.

Today I had to be at a doctor’s appointment at 9 and get back here by 10 for the movers to bring end tables, lamps, pictures for the walls and my piano.  “Piano” being the operative word.  I had been the pianist for my church before I moved to Edmond 9 years ago--or maybe it was 10 years?

Anyway, I had been negligent to practice since then, because--no!! No reason for “because.”  I just quit.”  I played my marimba for groups on a regular basis, but not the piano.

So after the movers left, I sat down to play, without a clue as to how rusty I had become.  It was terrible.  Three sharps, four flats, etc.  Brain to fingers wasn’t functional.  The only cure will be to start all over again.  Key of C.  One sharp---what key is that?????  etc. etc.  My cousin Ann lives here and I am going to have to go take literacy piano all over again.  Training my fingers to function will be easy compared to that.  All I have to do is do it.  Sit down and play.