Return of the blog
Well, folks, I’m back in business. It seems to have been a Sympatico problem. We were not the only ones affected. I’m relieved to have the service back, because I cannot work at home if I am unable to remain in contact with colleagues and students.
I have some serious concerns about Gilly’s status, and I plan to contact Brad tomorrow to see how much more time the CSSS can offer us in the way of care giving. He is still relatively unsteady; last evening he fell in the bathroom twice. I was home, luckily, but this is not a good thing. I need to ensure that he has much more coverage.
His responses to questions make no sense. Last night he was sitting on the couch and I was giving him his medication. He started to put his shoes on. I asked, “Where are you going?” He replied, “To Jerusalem.” I thought he was kidding, but he seemed not to be. This is an example of the type of exchange we often have these days. It is heart wrenching and downright frightening.
His movements seem slower. It takes what seems like forever for him to do anything; dress, sit up in bed to eat, take medication, finish his food…he does very little, but whatever he undertakes is an extremely long procedure. I feel as if the only way to get out of the house and to arrive at work on time would be to get up at 5:30. My usual 6:30 wake-up does not allow me ample time to prepare everything and then wait for him to get up and eat. If I don’t give him breakfast, he’ll miss a meal.
I begin my day feeling rushed, which creates stress. It’s not Gilly’s fault, yet I find myself begging him to respond, explaining that I cannot be late. When I arrive home, a new set of tasks await me; I’m just too exhausted to get some of the morning rituals attended to the night before (such as making lunches). I fall into bed as soon as supper is over, and try to drift off to sleep, but my mind is running on overload; my night’s sleep is shorter than it ought to be.
I will be home tomorrow instead of Friday, and I plan to attend to securing better coverage for next week. Yaron and I have been playing tag team for the last couple of days. Yaron’s new driving status makes an enormous difference. He can do some messages for me at the drop of a hat.
Tamara is here for us whenever we need her as well, and Gilly absolutely loves her presence (as he does Yaron’s, but hers is more of a novelty). On Sunday night she came by while I was out at a fundraiser and whipped him up a delectable meal. She left a note saying that he ‘ate like a pig.’
Gotta get dinner on the table for my very hungry 18 year old. Spaghetti and meat sauce (with surprise meatballs; he doesn’t know I put them in yet. Shhh, don’t spoil the secret!). Gilly dislikes pasta, so it’s hamburger night for him.
I have some serious concerns about Gilly’s status, and I plan to contact Brad tomorrow to see how much more time the CSSS can offer us in the way of care giving. He is still relatively unsteady; last evening he fell in the bathroom twice. I was home, luckily, but this is not a good thing. I need to ensure that he has much more coverage.
His responses to questions make no sense. Last night he was sitting on the couch and I was giving him his medication. He started to put his shoes on. I asked, “Where are you going?” He replied, “To Jerusalem.” I thought he was kidding, but he seemed not to be. This is an example of the type of exchange we often have these days. It is heart wrenching and downright frightening.
His movements seem slower. It takes what seems like forever for him to do anything; dress, sit up in bed to eat, take medication, finish his food…he does very little, but whatever he undertakes is an extremely long procedure. I feel as if the only way to get out of the house and to arrive at work on time would be to get up at 5:30. My usual 6:30 wake-up does not allow me ample time to prepare everything and then wait for him to get up and eat. If I don’t give him breakfast, he’ll miss a meal.
I begin my day feeling rushed, which creates stress. It’s not Gilly’s fault, yet I find myself begging him to respond, explaining that I cannot be late. When I arrive home, a new set of tasks await me; I’m just too exhausted to get some of the morning rituals attended to the night before (such as making lunches). I fall into bed as soon as supper is over, and try to drift off to sleep, but my mind is running on overload; my night’s sleep is shorter than it ought to be.
I will be home tomorrow instead of Friday, and I plan to attend to securing better coverage for next week. Yaron and I have been playing tag team for the last couple of days. Yaron’s new driving status makes an enormous difference. He can do some messages for me at the drop of a hat.
Tamara is here for us whenever we need her as well, and Gilly absolutely loves her presence (as he does Yaron’s, but hers is more of a novelty). On Sunday night she came by while I was out at a fundraiser and whipped him up a delectable meal. She left a note saying that he ‘ate like a pig.’
Gotta get dinner on the table for my very hungry 18 year old. Spaghetti and meat sauce (with surprise meatballs; he doesn’t know I put them in yet. Shhh, don’t spoil the secret!). Gilly dislikes pasta, so it’s hamburger night for him.
posted by Gilly at 6:03 PM
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