Country living
There’s nothing like a rainy day in the country; a good excuse to read the day away, except for a few promenades in between the raindrops. The novel I am reading is the sort of fiction that you just cannot put down. It draws you in and takes you on a magic carpet ride of lives intertwining through different periods of history. In case you’re interested, it’s called, “behind the scenes at the museum” by Kate Atkinson.
Gilly built himself a fire and he and Liylah took refuge near the hearth. I chose a cooler spot on the other side of the house next to the screen door.
I finally had my swim today (almost all of it) during a brief sunny period. It was nothing short of delicious. Liylah was held captive in the house, unbeknownst to the fact that I was in the lake until I passed by the dock on my return. I was afraid to venture too far due to the unstable weather conditions, so I decided to double back home and travel in the other direction for a short distance so as to end up swimming the length of my usual journey. She spotted me from the window, and that was it; my voyage was cut short. Gilly let her out and she barreled down the hill to the water’s edge in full rescue mode, crying hysterically. It was SO relaxing a swim while it lasted.
Gilly maintained yesterday’s walking distance record, adding a bit more to the count. He told me that I really don’t understand how hard it is for him to walk. “I probably don’t,” I agreed, “but I’m listening and I care. Do you want me to stop encouraging you to walk? Am I bugging you too much?” He agreed that the exercise is beneficial, and because of me, he forces himself to go for a stroll despite the discomfort.
I am cautious about the kind of ‘nudging’ I do. I try to present the possibilities (like putting out a fruit platter) rather than push Gilly in the direction I know is in his best interest. I do insist he take medication within a reasonable time frame, and that food must be consumed before or during a dose of Decadron (as it is very clearly marked that it must be taken with food), but otherwise I make loose suggestions to eat and exercise at what I consider reasonable intervals. Still, I am the co-star of this drama, and my character always tries to get the leading man to do something he doesn’t really wish to do. He’s not a child that I can cajole and make the ‘undesirable’ into a game (this I have a talent for and lots of experience). I try to maintain an upbeat attitude, which at times is more of a façade. Mary Poppins taught me: A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, and I so agree, but it’s hard to apply to an adult in this situation. I really find this new role hard to play sometimes.
I made an unambiguous request yesterday; once per hour, say something to me, or make a gesture. Just please do something from your end, I begged. It actually helped. Now and again I look at him and turn away in mock ‘waiting’ mode. Then he remembers and says something. Even more special are the times he walks into the room where I am reading and initiates a brief exchange. I’ve got my needs too, and I’ve made this one very clear, I believe to both of our advantage.
Gilly managed to test and change the air pressure in the water tank today. This is an excellent sign. Another promising indication that Gilly is on the mend surfaced this afternoon when he asked me when his next appointment with Dr. Wise is (the ophthalmologist). I reminded him that Dr. Wise advised we return in a few months when the swelling has subsided. It was a perfect opportunity to ask in passing, “Why, have your eyes changed?” “Yes, they’re better, so my glasses are not good enough anymore.” I’ve been down this road with Gilly before, so I suggested we wait at least a week, because they’re likely to change some more.” He retorted, “I doubt it.” I strongly recommended we wait and see, because if they do, by the time we have a new prescription filled, we’ll need to start all over again. He saw the logic. I hope that the MAB will be able to assess his visual challenges in the meantime, and perhaps propose what we do to compensate for the fluctuation in visual perception. We will see the social worker, Jennifer, from the MAB next week and perhaps she can inform us as to how reasonable it is to wish for this kind of assistance, and when we can expect the assessment to take place.
We just heard some thunder, and so I want to post this before we lose power, which is a common occurrence up here. We plan to take full advantage of the warm and cozy shelter from the storm tonight, and we’ll head home tomorrow mid-day (for as short a stint as possible).
Gilly built himself a fire and he and Liylah took refuge near the hearth. I chose a cooler spot on the other side of the house next to the screen door.
I finally had my swim today (almost all of it) during a brief sunny period. It was nothing short of delicious. Liylah was held captive in the house, unbeknownst to the fact that I was in the lake until I passed by the dock on my return. I was afraid to venture too far due to the unstable weather conditions, so I decided to double back home and travel in the other direction for a short distance so as to end up swimming the length of my usual journey. She spotted me from the window, and that was it; my voyage was cut short. Gilly let her out and she barreled down the hill to the water’s edge in full rescue mode, crying hysterically. It was SO relaxing a swim while it lasted.
Gilly maintained yesterday’s walking distance record, adding a bit more to the count. He told me that I really don’t understand how hard it is for him to walk. “I probably don’t,” I agreed, “but I’m listening and I care. Do you want me to stop encouraging you to walk? Am I bugging you too much?” He agreed that the exercise is beneficial, and because of me, he forces himself to go for a stroll despite the discomfort.
I am cautious about the kind of ‘nudging’ I do. I try to present the possibilities (like putting out a fruit platter) rather than push Gilly in the direction I know is in his best interest. I do insist he take medication within a reasonable time frame, and that food must be consumed before or during a dose of Decadron (as it is very clearly marked that it must be taken with food), but otherwise I make loose suggestions to eat and exercise at what I consider reasonable intervals. Still, I am the co-star of this drama, and my character always tries to get the leading man to do something he doesn’t really wish to do. He’s not a child that I can cajole and make the ‘undesirable’ into a game (this I have a talent for and lots of experience). I try to maintain an upbeat attitude, which at times is more of a façade. Mary Poppins taught me: A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, and I so agree, but it’s hard to apply to an adult in this situation. I really find this new role hard to play sometimes.
I made an unambiguous request yesterday; once per hour, say something to me, or make a gesture. Just please do something from your end, I begged. It actually helped. Now and again I look at him and turn away in mock ‘waiting’ mode. Then he remembers and says something. Even more special are the times he walks into the room where I am reading and initiates a brief exchange. I’ve got my needs too, and I’ve made this one very clear, I believe to both of our advantage.
Gilly managed to test and change the air pressure in the water tank today. This is an excellent sign. Another promising indication that Gilly is on the mend surfaced this afternoon when he asked me when his next appointment with Dr. Wise is (the ophthalmologist). I reminded him that Dr. Wise advised we return in a few months when the swelling has subsided. It was a perfect opportunity to ask in passing, “Why, have your eyes changed?” “Yes, they’re better, so my glasses are not good enough anymore.” I’ve been down this road with Gilly before, so I suggested we wait at least a week, because they’re likely to change some more.” He retorted, “I doubt it.” I strongly recommended we wait and see, because if they do, by the time we have a new prescription filled, we’ll need to start all over again. He saw the logic. I hope that the MAB will be able to assess his visual challenges in the meantime, and perhaps propose what we do to compensate for the fluctuation in visual perception. We will see the social worker, Jennifer, from the MAB next week and perhaps she can inform us as to how reasonable it is to wish for this kind of assistance, and when we can expect the assessment to take place.
We just heard some thunder, and so I want to post this before we lose power, which is a common occurrence up here. We plan to take full advantage of the warm and cozy shelter from the storm tonight, and we’ll head home tomorrow mid-day (for as short a stint as possible).
posted by Gilly at 7:06 PM
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