I didn’t want to get out of bed so early; but, I did it. I didn’t want to admit that I had left my journey on the road back at my fork; but, I did it. I didn’t want to accept that I needed to go back to WWs; but, I did it. I got up before the alarm clock went off. I woke my hubby by trying to be TOO QUIET. I rushed out the door. I was a walking emoticon. I felt like crying. My throat felt tight like I couldn’t breathe. I was anxious about walking through that door. I talked to myself the entire drive over. I sat in my Jeep for a few moments and pep talked myself into going in. I went in. I weighed in. I sat down and I let go of my anxiety. I did it.
I did this for me. I am worth this. I forgot how important I am to myself. I need to be healthy for me. How things have changed. New rules to learn, bad habits to tame into healthy routines, exercise!?! UGH!!! I have a hate/love relationship with that. I could blame this on high school forced participation (with little to no encouragement or positive feedback) ; but, I am adulting today. I listened to the topic for the week. As a group we laughed, exchanged ideas and talked about our lives. It felt wonderful. I love my early Saturday morning meeting. I have missed you.
I have struggled all week to make better choices. I made a few mistakes. Unlike times past, I haven’t given into myself. I am trying to make this work for me. I miss seeing my feet. I promised myself a long time ago that I would never be the Diva in double digit underpants ever again. I want to be the best version of myself. I have quite the adventure ahead of me. Tomorrow is my weigh-in day. I am a little nervous and excited at the same time. I had a great week because I took part in my well being. What have I learned this week? I am not the WEAK ONE. I can do this.
really? I try to go see Dad everyday. I am his link to his world. The life he once lived in, loved in, laughed in. I can tell you with all honesty it is the toughest part of my day. I hate to cry. I hate feeling open and vulnerable. Yesterday was hard for me. I had my afternoon coffee fix and prepped a bag to bring to Pops. I kissed my hubby and off I went. Dad was not in a good place. The nurse on duty pulled me aside to inform me that Dad had been grumpy and short (my Mom was grumpy and short but I think she meant Dad was out of sorts ?)
Pops contacted a cold from one of the other patients who likes to kiss the boys and make them cry. There is nothing I can really do about those behaviors so I let Pops be. The nurse I spoke with assured me Dad had been getting cold meds and seemed to be getting better except for his demeanor. She asked me if I had any ideas as to why Pops suddenly seemed angry. I am not sure how much any of you really understand dementia. A person who lives with dementia has their own sense of reality and most likely you are not invited so you have to learn to watch for the signs. Any time my Dad is in pain or has a fever he gets angry, really angry. I informed the nurse that Pops has a history of bladder/urinary problems and infections and sometimes that is enough to send him to Anger Land.
I feel like the outsider now. If pops were home I would have simply called his Dr. and scheduled a urinalysis and a meet and greet to check his vitals. Doctor appointments change when your loved one lives in a nursing home. Someone on staff calls a nurse. The nurse does a quick assessment and then decides whether or not to contact the Dr. or nurse practitioner. Tests were ordered for Dad. I think he is having a urinary tract infection or a flair up with his rheumatoid arthritis.
I left Pops shortly after his supper. I left distracted, angry, scared and plain SAD. I jumped into my Jeep and blindly drove away. Away. Far away. I was nearly into West Boylston before I realized I had no idea where I was going or why I was going. I can’t outrun my Pops’ decline. It is what it is. In my face, part of my life everyday. It sucks. It wears me down and leaves me feeling lonely and vulnerable unable to fix what has gone so wrong.