Clematis

The summer hasn't quite started, so I'll get the tuition back-or can apply it towards fall semester. It's more like the pain and suffering part that they figure...you know, that it's upsetting to have to cancel something that you had planned on. It's not a huge big deal. On the other hand, if they tell me that I cannot go to Hawaii in a few weeks like I've been planning, I'll be beside myself and it will be a mega-big-deal for me and my two friends that are going with me. I'm trying to not panic. Anyway, by then, my regular doc-the one who told me I was fine and should just go home-will be back. Also, it wont be like the trip I did last year where I went alone-I'll have my friend Bonita and her husband Tom with me. Bonita is the sweetest warmest person you could imagine, but also an attentive bossy little fuss-budget. If I'm still having problems, she'll sure to let me know not to do it, and have her husband, Mr. Mellow, do it or carry it or whatever. I'll be well looked after. And according to my psychiatrist friend, there is no conclusive research about the effects of flying and the related pressure changes on the post concussive brain. I'm trying to not worry about Maui...I really need to go. When I booked it a year I was afraid it might be iffy due to my dad's declining condition, but it turns out that's not the problem...

I had a dream last night that my dad showed up and wanted to know what I was doing, living in his house, getting rid of his stuff, and spending his money. I told him I thought he was dead and had been cremated. He said, no, look at me-I'm right here. I think this was a little anxiety laced with denial. When I woke up I heard him talking to me, telling me, "Sho 'nuff and no stuff- I am really dead" Thanks dad! I remember him saying "Sho 'nuff and no stuff"...when he was young and frisky...I hadn't thought about that in a long time.

Thank you! The attorney told me that as well, and it hadn't occurred to me. So I have a spreadsheet going...two actually. One for things with clear dollar amounts and another with hard to calculate values like not being able to take ceramics class, cannot drive to rehearsals in Jerome and drive to Flagstaff to play with a friend, etc.

The problem with doctors is that they are people, like the rest of us, and we all make mistakes. I am an LCSW (social worker) and also a school psychologist; as the latter I evaluate kids with problems in school to decide if they need extra help (like special education) to be successful in school. We have up to 60 days to make this decision, and it is a team decision. I rely heavily on the parents and the teachers to make team decisions. Although I have the lead role and frequently am in the "hot seat", it is a team decision and we have the luxury of time. Also, if anyone decides that we made the wrong decision, we can go back and do it over. My doctor does not have that luxury. When he talked to me on the phone and told me to go home and stop worrying, it was a mistake, but it was a five minute conversation and he had limited information. I always hope in my own work that I will never make a mistake-or never make another mistake. But dang it, I do! Fortunately it never costs anyone their life, and my errors can be fixed. Medical doctors and nurses and other practitioners (who work with the body) are a lot farther out on a limb, usually working alone and under a lot of pressure. When I first met my own doctor, I met him through my job. I had been under the care of a doctor who did inadequate assessments before starting a shoot-from-the-hip treatment and I didn't like it, but when my dad came out here and started to see the same doctor, I reconsidered, as my dad clearly needed a really good Dr. I was evaluating two young students whose father was a Dr-a GP. I really had to go out on a limb for one of these kids and my boss was so mad at me for assuring that the parents knew what their legal rights were so that they could make informed decisions-well, I thought she was going to fire me. At some point she told me to stop talking to the parents. I did what I knew was right-morally and legally-and continued to inform them. It all worked out, my boss got over it, and the parents got what they wanted-and needed for their kids. Then I decided I wanted the dad as PCP for myself and my dad. Over the last decade he worked very hard for my dad. During his last illness, I was trying to get my dad into the local rehab/SNF (Skilled Nursing Facility), but my doctor said oh no, I'm going to get him into a much better place-and it's not a SNF-it's an actual rehab hospital-and a well-known one. They had a waiting list, but tons of people all over the area just love this doc, so he was able to slip him in. If he had gone to the SNF instead he probably would have died anyway, and he would have died here in town instead of at the fancy hospital over the mountain. I liked him being in the fancy hospital over the mountain-he seemed to have a better chance. And I think he didn't really want me to be there when he actually passed. Would I have rather been there? How could I possibly know? I talked to the doctor at the fancy rehab doctor after my father's death and he was rather open and honest about it all. Well, yes there were some errors and bad decisions about my father's meds. Would he still be alive without all that? who knows-probably not. He was 88 and had been struggling with Parkinson's for a long time. Even if he had survived, he would not have been able to have the quality of life that he wanted and he would have had to leave his home and live somewhere else. When my dad was still alive and I realized what the Dr had done with the meds, I was angry and confronted him, telling him that he had to fix it, and he did. I am devastated to have lost my dad, but I am not angry at the Dr. I think my dad died because he was tired of struggling, not because of med errors. After I showed up and opined upon the matter, the Dr. did what I asked him to do... And my own doctor...I love that guy and think my dad and I have both been really fortunate to have had him. Is he capable of making mistakes? Yes, and I think for him to tell me to go home and stop worrying was not a good decision. I think he was tired and really really ready for a long vacation after five years of no vacations, and who knows how long it's been since he had a vacation alone with his wife? He gave me some bad advice, but it didn't kill me, and eventually the woman covering for him corrected me by setting up the right things-and telling me to stop running around like a maniac, since I had a head injury. Sorry this was so long, but it's another view on medical professionals...

I've been through most of my adult life on my own, with no backup. Then I had those ten awesome years where I had supportive family and someone who always had my back, had my best interests at heart, who loved me unconditionally, and who always wanted to hear what I had to say-my dear old dad. And now he's gone and here I am facing an enormous mess to sort my way through, and just as I finally am ready to start dealing with it, I have Concussion Syndrome! Dang!

Doctors make mistakes for sure. My own doctor just last week told me after I had been in a car accident that I was fine and should go home and stop worrying because I was an anxious person. This was after I had been seen at a reservation ER and only talked to my doctor on the phone. He was way overdue for his vacation. The NP covering for him ordered MRI's since I obviously had concussion syndrome. Good for her. Not good of my doctor to blow me off... An ER doc saw my father on Christmas Eve and wanted to admit him because he had low blood pressure due to Parkinson's disease, which he had all the time. The real reason was that since he was in the ER for a fall, they could send him to the hospital for three days that would qualify him for rehab treatment that might make him stronger. They wouldn't tell me their true rationale and my dad didn't want to spend Christmas Eve in the hospital for no good reason. I didn't try to make him because no plausible rationale had been offered. They could have been honest with us, and it would actually have been the right thing to do. I got him back on track, but he lost a few days due to the ER Doc's evasiveness. The doctor who saw my father in the hospital during the last few days of his life made several mistakes related to medication that resulted in his being in more pain and less able to do the therapies that were to make him stronger. Instead of getting stronger and out of pain, he was in pain, avoided the therapies he was there for, got weaker and died. Did this series of physician mistakes cause him an early death? Who knows. Maybe he would still be alive, but still declining from Parkinson's. Not much I could do after he was dead. I talked to the Dr at the rehab hospital a few hours after my dad died. He looked at me a little nervously, and I told him yeah, I think you made mistakes with his medications. But would it have made a difference? Who knows? It is what it is. He was 88 and had Parkinson's for a long time. I wish I had known that he was so close to the end...maybe I could have gotten some information from him that would have made it easier for me now. But I was totally focused on getting him better, keeping him at home, and never giving up. Anyway, it is what it is, and I think in the end my dad died the way he wanted to-in his sleep. It's hare to know what would have happened if different decisions had been made and less mistakes, but it is what is...

Is that a tuna boat? That is very cool!

Oh, Kay...I am so sorry to hear about Miss Mocha! That is so sad-I hope you get a surprise and get her back, but it sounds from what you say that this is unlikely. I love her little black heart-shaped nose-that is about the sweetest thing I ever saw on a cat! It's really hard to have a cat disappear because you don't know for sure. I had a cat that I lost three times, for 11 days, for 11 months, and then forever. But she was a wild one. I have heard that when you lose a dog you widen your search to farther distances, but for a cat you narrow your search because they usually don't go very far. I am so sorry, and really feel for you... Laura

They can't get me in until next Friday. Greg offered to come down to Sedona and drive me to get the MRI's if I need him to, which is really nice. I would have never asked him- because he lives an hour away. I told him that I always figure that I am all alone and have to do everything myself. He said, "No...you're not." He was very sweet to me today. It was very nice to have someone taking care of me. My friend who is a psychiatrist says that I have concussion syndrome. I'm thinking that I should drop my ceramics class. I don't see how I'm going to haul around that clay, which comes in a 25-pound bag, stand on my feet on a cement floor, etc. Also, I think that in a summer like this, doing ceramics means it is less likely that I will have time to paint watercolors and enjoy my beloved flowers by painting them.

Marg, I'm sorry you're having all these food problems. It sounds awful. I know what you mean about how it's hard having trouble dealing with things alone. I had a car accident a week ago-not my fault, and it's been a nightmare. I'm having a lot of strange things due to obvious head trauma, and they can't get me in for the MRI's for another week I keep realizing more and more things that are problematic-bending over, squatting, standing for too long, etc. I've been told I can only drive for very short distances, and so on. I'm not really sure if things are getting worse, or better and worse, or if I'm just becoming more aware of how marginally I am really functioning as time goes by. But it is hard alone. Even though my dad was not capable of much as we got more toward his end, at least I could talk to him about what was going on and I didn't feel as alone in it. It's hard, huh?

Greg came over and helped-that was great. I noticed while we were walking around looking at stuff that my head hurts whenever I bend over or squat to pick up something. And I am dropping things all the time. He kept telling me stuff like, "No, don't do that-I'll pick it up." We walked out to the car to get some items he is going to return to the library for me, and he said, "you shouldn't be walking nearly that fast". This is really bizarre to be so nonfunctional. And my speech is just not right. Sometimes I have to really struggle to organize what I am saying, and sometimes odd things come out. We were looking at something for something in my dad's car and I looked in the backseat and said, "Oh yeah, it's in the backyard!" Uh-huh, right behind the front seat is the backyard...

I feel like I should be working. This was the plan that as soon as I finished the semester I was going to start working really hard on this big mess. But instead, the semester is over has instead of working hard I am hardly able to work! Nevertheless, I had a new idea. I asked my friend Greg if he would help me. He lives in Flagstaff and does a little camera work in the film industry. In the winter he teaches skiing...he says they barely pay him enough to drive up to the ski resort to do it, but now it is summer and there is no snow and no movies. I asked him if he would help me to clear things out, and I think he will. I can't do this by myself and it seems like just paying everyone who is helping me $15/hour out of the estate funds is the best way to get the work done so that I can stop paying my dad's mortgage and get out of here. I need some people that I can trust who can get some stuff done. Greg is coming over today to help for a few hours. After he goes, I'll try painting the delphinium...

I just wanted to tell you that we are all now referring to my dad's car as "the tuna boat". None of us have ever seen a tuna boat, but my friends and I all like the sound of it.

I feel like I'm on restriction...it's very irritating. But you are right-I could try reading-I just got my first reading glasses. I had to get prescription ones since the OTC ones don't work because my eyes are so different. I've only had them a few days and haver been going around saying,"I can read this-I can read that-I can read the newspaper INDOORS-I can even read the small stuff on my cellphone. But I haven't actually sat down with an actual book to read it. I've been so busy faking it for the past few years... I suppose maybe I should just enjoy lying around watching Netflix videos and try not to feel guilty. But I do feel like I should be working on my big project and not lying around goofing off. She did tell me I shouldn't be engaged in stressful activities-dragging and sorting stuff is definitely in that category... I do have some nice flowers booming-perhaps I should paint some flowers...she didn't tell me not to paint...a week of purposefully lying around doing very little seems like an agony at this point...

My doctor-I really really like him. He is honest, brilliant, funny, and devoted to his patients-and his staff. I've always had a lot of respect and appreciation for what he did for my dad-and he took him on after he had stopped taking new Medicare patients. I'm sure he needs a vacation-he hasn't had one in five years. I just looked at what he had on his email and it's actually almost three weeks that he's going to be gone. But I don't think he gave my situation his full attention, for whatever reason. I don't get the MRI until next Friday, June 3 and I have no idea how long it takes to get the results. I'm really glad I got the lawyer, since I can count on him to make sure everything gets taken care of. He seems really good. It looks like the car will get fixed and not considered a total-which is great. But I was supposed to start really working hard on getting my bog summer project done. And I'm not supposed to be doing that I'm supposed to relax and "lay low" I feel like I'm back at the beginning again-like when my dad first died and I was really marginally functioning. It's very discouraging. I had really gotten to where I was feeling more normal and now I'm back to being out to lunch and having trouble getting anything done. But here I am...and not supposed to be going much of anywhere. I've never had an an MRI - do you need someone to take you there, like for a surgery?

Dang- this accident is worse that I had thought! My dearly beloved primary care physician was not having his best Doctor day when I had this car accident. He was getting ready to go on a two week vacation when I called him. I think had one foot already on vacation and the other foot on a banana peel when he told me, "you're fine – go home – you're an anxious person", when I called him after this accident I had a week ago today, describing headache, dizziness, balance problems, visual distortions, problems with focus and decision-making. None of that stuff has gone away, and today I saw the nurse practitioner who is covering for my Dr. and she was pretty serious about all of it. She did not look very happy when I told her I'd been driving out to Hopi, if you're flying kites with kids, driving up to Jerome dragging a cello around, and all that. She wants an MRI of my head and neck and they can't get me in until next Friday. Meanwhile she told me to "Lay low", rest, relax, no long-distance driving, no crazy stuff, and no visits to the chiropractor. I can't even go to Flagstaff. Or Jerome. She said going to Cottonwood (17 miles that is all straight except for one big sweeping S-curve that was made much too tight for the speed limit) is kind of pushing it but I do have to go there next Friday to get the MRI.

Thanks! I told the kids about how it was my dad's kite and he really wanted to see them flying it...they seemed to think he could see it as well. They had a great time flying the kite and the wind was great. Well, the was a little squirrelly but in the right speed range. I had a great time with my stunt kite-one of my best flight days ever for it. My friend and coworker Mike was also able to get it up enough to have fun with it as well. I have been flying a stunt kite for at least 20 years, but mostly have had a lot of frustration because I have lived in lumpy landscapes that slow down and disrupt the wind. Out on the reservation, it is flat and open, leading to good wind conditions. I love flying out there...

They wouldn't pay for a chiropractor? I wonder why...I had the impression they did that all the time...

I'm still sorting through the process of handling this car accident from last Friday, and am having more and more troublesome symptoms related to my vision, balance, and cognitive functioning (memory, focus, accomplishing tasks that I should be able to do easily, etc). I talked to the other driver's insurance guy this morning and he told me that don't care what is in the police report; they will make their own determination who is at fault. I decided to engage an attorney. Tomorrow, I will see the chiropractor, a regular doctor (not a reservation doctor, and also have the car looked at. The attorney seems very good and I think he's going to help me a lot. On a positive note, I went to a rehearsal of the Jerome Ukulele Orchestra for the first time in two months (although I play the ukulele rather well due to many years of playing classical guitar, I play cello wit them because they love what the low notes add). It was great-when I walked in with Mister Cello, they were so happy to see us, they all applauded...

So, I don't really know if he can see or not, but yesterday the other counselor and I took these two kites out to the reservation school to have the kids fly the last day of school at field day. I bought mine first and the kids had such a great time flying it-it's a modified rounded box kite that is about bomb-proof and is very easy to fly-it practically jumps into the air. When my dad heard about the kite and the kids, he got one as well, but I couldn't figure out what he would do with it because he was having such trouble getting around. But we took the kites out there yesterday. Mike took my dad's kite to fly with a bunch of boys and I was flying my kite in the next field with a bunch of girls. The wind was so perfect we had lots of good flights-one after another. We were even able to get in a number of flights with one of my stunt kites. I hope my dad could see us and see his kite flying in the air. He sure loved kites...

I finally got online to look at my Advanced Ceramics class grade and got an "A". I fretted throughout the semester about my grade, because generally I am engaged in a prolific flow of creative projects-mostly related to Lena, cellos, ukuleles, and pots in which to grow flowers to paint. This semester I was exploring inorganic chemistry by simplifying glazes to analyze what the elements in the glazes do in simplified glazes. Especially at the beginning of the semester, I felt so flattened I didn't really feel like making little schmata, and so I started by studying the chemistry sections of glazing handbooks. I told my teacher several times during the semester that it didn't feel like I was really doing much, and he kept telling me that I was worrying too much and that I was still accomplishing a semester's volume of work.

That is amazing, George-thank you!

That's really good. I'm sure it's disappointing to have a grade that is lower than what you are used to earning, but the people at the college were probably correct in telling you it was better to go on and keep trying because if you had quit you might have had a failing grade and not only felt terrible about that but wondered if maybe you might have done ok if you had continued. My dad died right at the beginning of the semester and (in addition to working and everything else) I was registered in two classes. Since it was right at the beginning of the semester I dropped one immediately-and got the tuition back-but plowed on through the other. It was an advanced ceramics class and not the same thing as taking a heavy academic course, but still I had to go into class and stand on a cement floor for six hours a week and do creative work at an advanced level. I think I did ok, but it certainly wasn't at the level I am used to-same as you. I think I did ok but I don't know what my final grade is...

I have a lot of doubt and fear about consolidating and moving this summer. I don't know if I can do it, but I have to. I keep thinking about details I don't know if I can handle this. His house had a bad sick smell toward the end but I don't know from whence comes the smell. What if I take it with me? I have been planning on taking his bed to my house and getting rid of mine...is that weird? maybe his bed is part of what smells. How can I figure that out? Maybe I should get rid of his Tempur Pedic bed...or keep it and get a new mattress for it...or just get rid of it and keep sleeping on the bed that I've been sleeping on for 11 years that came with my house-the one I'm allergic to...That makes no sense and I'm about to start wringing my hands. Perhaps I should just go have Lena purr me to sleep...

Today I came home-to my dad's house- after my last day's work of the school year, thoroughly exhausted. I feel sad that my dad is not here to share my relief at completing the school year, my concerns that I could have less work next year, help me believe I will survive even if I do have less work next year, help me believe I can handle it if I have more work next year, and to share my joy at another summer of gardening, painting and flowers. I feel worried about all the work I have to do this summer and wonder if I can manage to do what I need to do. I miss my dad. I wish we could have some rice pudding together and talk about whatever. I wish I could see him again when he was 37 and I was 10 and hear him whistling in the kitchen, playing the banjo or ukulele gown by the river. I wish I could see all of that again, but it's all gone now. I feel sad. But I don't feel like I've been run over by a cement truck. I do feel tired, but after a 15-hour day and spending three hours of that flying kites in the sun on a windy day, it's probably to be expected. Perhaps I'll feel better in the morning. It would be good if I had enough energy to go to the gym and then come home and work on the big mess. I'll guess we'll see what we see...