Life in the Twilight Zone - The End

 

Bev Fathers 3/4/1936 - 26/5/2024

I haven't wanted to do my blog, because it means it really is the end. Sure, it is, but it's almost like I'm letting her go, but she will be a part of all of us who knew her, until we die. 

On one hand, it has been such a relief to know that she is no longer just the shell of the human she used to be, who we called Mum, on the other, this is the woman who raised us, who was always there and now, seemingly with a snap of the fingers, she's not. 

I got a call from the home at about 3am on the morning of the 26th, if I wanted a chance to say goodbye I should go now. I had actually taken something to help me sleep, so I probably shouldn't have driven, but this was something that I had to do. One final chance to let her go. 

One tepid cup of horrible coffee, one stale piece of cake, and a couple of biscuits later, I was left alone with Mum. The mattress she was on, is some special mattress, that makes the worst noises in the world, while she moved. She didn't move much of course, but as the medications wore off, she would grow more agitated, and her legs would move up and down the mattress, as if she was having a bad dream. I never want to hear the sound again. 

I stayed with her for a few hours, looking around the room, and locking in the memories, but they aren't the memories I want. I want to only have the memories of joking with her, listening to her sarcasm, or her passion as she spoke about her patchwork. I'd even happily take her shopping, just one more time, following along in her wake as she loaded her trolley, with nothing she needed, and I unloaded it, while she wasn't looking, and put in what she actually did need. I'd listen to her constantly asking when one of the grandkids was going to have a baby, or get married, she already had 9 great grandkids, there was no need to be greedy lol. 

But, all of that is just what I want. Honestly, the peace she is now in, is better than what I want for her. When she started forgetting who I was, and then that she'd even ever had children, and was retreating into her childhood, we began to mourn her. She lived like that for a few years, and we knew that all we could do, was protect the memories for her. Alzheimer's just sucks the life out of you, slowly. It's not painful, like cancer, but there is no way back from that initial diagnosis. 

One thing I ask all of you to be sure you do, is to have an end of life plan. Mum avoided that, we made sure she had a will, and it was done, while she was still competent, but apart from her comment 'just burn me and dump me on the side of the road' she didn't want to talk about it. I had garnered from comments she had made, that she didn't want a funeral, she didn't want a fuss, once she was gone, she was gone, she didn't need the rest of it. So that's exactly what we gave her. She was in no way religious, and said all of the fuss was just a waste of money. 

The nursing home gave us 24 hours to have her picked up, we had no idea that that is what they would want, maybe I should have paid more attention to all the docs I signed, so please people, do that. Go over them with a fine tooth comb. We just presumed they had a morgue, but they didn't. Luckily, the ad that I'd seen, on TV and all the ads online, told me about BARE. They looked after Mum, and us, and we will be forever grateful. 

I had to call the home to find out about clearing out Mums room, they didn't advise us of that, and if I hadn't called, all of her photos would have just been dumped somewhere. She had nothing of value, it was just her photos and clothes. I was advised when I called that they wanted her room cleaned out within 5 days. We were shocked to find that most of the clothes she had, and the shoes, had to be thrown out, and didn't realise that the home wasn't doing that (at least with her shoes) when they wore out. So much stuff, all thrown out, but much was donated. 

I do have to say that the staff who cared for Mum were wonderful, all the rules are set by admin, so I have nothing but praise for her carers, and disdain for the admin who were incredibly uncaring and presumed that we didn't need to be told anything. 

Anyway, getting off of that subject because it just makes me mad all over again. 

We had a lovely service, with mostly family for her. At her age, and the fact that we had it on a week day, meant that there was never going to be a crowd. BARE had organised a slide show with the photos we chose, which was wonderful. We got way to much food, but I like to think she would have liked how small it was, and that she was happy with the way we said goodbye. If not, it's too late now Mum lol. 

I have photos around the house, and find myself talking to them, my older brother, is definitely being haunted by her, but he was always the favourite, so only has himself to blame lol. As per her will, her car (which she hasn't driven for years) was passed onto me, and I am now an official car owner, which is great, but is costing a lot lol. 

Anyway, that's pretty much it from me. Just wanted to pass on, that she had passed on, really, get some shit out of my head as I always do, by writing it down. 

Catch yas

Cathy 

Spiraling.

 

It's been a long, long time between blogs. But right now, this one is just cause I have to get it out of me. I'm hoping that doing this will get me back on track, mentally. 

It's like I'm finally admitting something so that I can move on, and it usually works, so here goes. 

The wonderful and oh so exciting downward spiral of mental health. Not sure why or how it creeps up on me, but it does, every fucking time. You would think that after years of this crap, I'd be better at recognising the signs lol. Not me. No wait, let me clarify, I do recognise the signs, but the signs aren't always there, and this time, they hid away from me, then pounced. Fuckers. 

Would be lovely to have an alarm going off in my head, 'Warning! Warning! Cathy you're spiraling!' Mental health, the gift that keeps on giving. 

I know that I'm not just talking about me, so many others I know go through the same, or similar, and get it, writing it out (who the fuck writes these days lol) helps me. Probably doesn't help everyone, but I do this for me, and maybe someone who is reading this will realise they aren't alone. 

Getting through a day at a time, takes effort. I make sure to keep it suppressed and only show the fun and seriously stupid side of myself. Probably not healthy, should probably see someone about that, but it works for me for the most part. Oh, and please don't think that I'm in some deep dark hole ready to end it all, cause I'm not, not ever. 

This is a process for me, it works, for me, and I will drag myself kicking and screaming from the pit, as I do. Do not take what I do and try it on yourself, this is not a how to guide, do not be Cathy. Find out what works for you, be it therapy, meds, or talking to someone you know. For me meds, will only get me to a certain point, so unless I am really, really bad, I don't take them. If I'm not bleeding or have a limb that's swinging in the breeze, I won't waste my doctors time. He's nice, just not what I personally need. That's not a mental health thing, that's a me thing, I don't go to a doctor if I'm feeling sick, I have to be at deaths door lol. 

I've taken meds over the years, they work for maybe 4 days, then stop. That's not mental health meds, that's most meds. When Don died, my doctor gave me something to help me sleep, worked incredibly well for 2 nights, then nothing. That's just me, I'm special lol. 

Last night, I actually slept almost the entire night for 7 hours, which is not my norm. I'm lucky to get 5 solid hrs, and it works for me. Just can't stay in bed and try to force more sleep, so I don't. My sleep pattern is not an issue, I'm used to it, and still work daily and work well. Sure I whine about it, but isn't that what people do? Am I whining cause I want to fit in? Maybe. Well, not fit in, but maybe show others that I'm not fucking mental lol. 

Anyway, downward spiral, blah blah, where was I, before my brain interrupted. 

Work has been tough, not because we have been super busy, but because of new things happening, and trying to get everyone up and running and trained, has made things tense lol. I'm not going to go into details, but people I work with, know what I'm talking about. 

Don't get me wrong, I love the tough, I love the tension, the stress, because I love searching for solutions, or looking for ways to make it easy to learn. I mean, we all know we sit in a training session, and it's mostly blah blah blah lol. I take notes, and break it down for me, translations as it were. I like black and white, Step 1, Step 2, Step 3 etc. I don't need all the stuff in the middle, and this works for me, but not for everyone, I get that. I'm also feeling excited, this is all new, and I love the tech and new stuff. I may be a boomer, but I'm not a sit on my arse and whine about kids these days, and all that tech that is rotting their brains, boomer. I'm a fuck, I love this shit, boomer lol. 

So, I have to pull myself out of this spiral, so I can get more enjoyment out of it. And I fucking will. 

I've just let everything shit creep in, and no one needs that. So here I am, typing away furiously and getting that shit out, I can almost feel it flowing out of the tips of my fingers as I type. No, I'm not crazy, this is just me lol. I'm surprised my keyboard isn't on fire lol. Before I had a pc, it was writing the shit out, getting it out of my head, like deep breathing. Hold it in, breathe it out, and while that works for me, not the deep breathing, but the words, then that's what I do. Deep breathing just reminds me of being in labor, or trying to get up those damn stairs lol. 

At work I let myself go, I'm sarcastic, funny and happy to be there. Yep, I know, how the fuck do I do that? It's because it's work, that's one world, then there's me in another world, post work. Sitting on my arse, in a daze, trying to figure out financial shit. Feeling the guilt of a child with a parent in care, feeling like a failure as a parent cause I don't have shit to give my adult kids or grandkids. 

Yeah, yeah, shut up I can hear you. I'll be back, don't worry, just have to get it the fuck out of me. We all do it, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't. It's just that sometimes, some of us, can't get it out and move on, all the fucking time. Some of us, just need that bit of an extra push, and this is me getting it out. Last night, I knew this was what I needed, but was way to exhausted to do it right. 

One thing I used to do, well I still do it, just not as much, but when I started the spiral, I would just get in the car and drive. Now, not so much, cause there are fuckers out there driving as well, too fucking many of them. The places I could drive to, to just breathe, are now filled with tourists, making noise. The peace is just not there. I don't want the tourists to go home lol, I'm not mean (well maybe I am) but I miss the peace. I miss the fact that no one but locals knew about the hidden gems. Maybe I just miss the fact that as a teen, we ruled our haven. We were far enough away from the city, that it made it harder for tourists to get here, and most didn't bother. For fucks sake, dudes we met in the city, thought we lived in the country and rode horses to get around lol. 

Getting back to work, just to add something. Work is my escape, 'say what' you are screaming lol, but it's true. As I said, I have fun, I'm a different person, I'm doing something that I really enjoy, and I get to vent to a bunch of other crazies and make them laugh. I hope that being me, helps my co workers out in some way, if it doesn't, oops, sorry/not sorry lol. 

And snap, back to reality lol. 

Anyway, I guess that's it. I already feel better, I've typed, I've cried, I've let it out. First step done. Second step is to do what I should be doing on a day off. Absolutely fucking nothing lol. And I mean it, weekends for me, aren't about the housework or anything else, it's time to do what I want to do. Even if that's sitting in front of the TV watching some mindless crap that gets me out of my head, then that's it. I can do housework during the week, weekends are meant to be a time to relax, so damn it, that's what I'll fucking do. 

Might go sit in the sun, and look at my yard, thinking to myself, that needs cutting, those weeds need pulling, but I'm not doing any of it lol. So I'll then laugh to myself thinking of my neighbours who take great care of their yards, and have chores for their kids every weekend. Yeh yeh, I know that some people only have weekends to do that shit, but this is about me, so piss off lol. 

Thanks for reading, thanks for not rolling your eyes, too hard while Cathy lets it out. 

Catchyas 

Cathy

Scars

Was surprised today, not in a good way, and totally random. This June it will be 30 years since my soul mate passed, 30 fucking years. So why today, and my brain is spinning with WTFs. 

Sure it's Valentines Day, big deal, means nothing to me, never really has. I never had a proper Valentines until I met Don. No boyfriends making grand gestures, no ex husband doing anything but forgetting what day it was. I may have gotten a bunch of flowers a couple of times, but that was it. With Don, it was different, he was a huge romantic, and ended up with me, who was the opposite, and thought it was just another day. Strange how life works. 

I still have the gorilla he gave me for our first Valentines, and the weird rabbit he got me for our last from the 7-11 lol. I remember vividly the delivery lady turning up with this basket containing the gorilla, flowers and a pair of see through lacy knickers in a little bottle. She had a huge smile on her face as she handed it over, and I was beyond embarrassed. This was a first for me, had never happened before, and I had no idea how I was supposed to react, and there was the fact I hadn't gotten him anything. To say it was completely alien to me, probably sounds strange, but that was my life before Don. 

I have a gorgeous bracelet, delicate lacy gold, that he got me another year. I don't wear it, not anymore, mostly cause it's impossible to do the fuckers up with one hand. But I keep it, safe with all the other things he gave me, with all his love. 

So why today, almost 30 years later, after life has moved on, after growing older, have I suddenly found it impossible to just sit there and read a valentines message without getting all teary and wondering what if? Even now, as I type, I'm tearing up, it's fucking ridiculous. 

Life has moved on, I no longer expect him to pull up on the Harley, or with his brother in law after work. The kids have all moved out, had kids of their own, well except for 1 lol. I'm older than he ever had a hope of being, and yet, here I sit, tearing up. Life can be a real mother fucker at times. 

Maybe it's because so much has been going on the last few years, I haven't really had time to bring up those memories, like I used. It's always easy to remember him, but when your brain is full of other shit, and your heart is aching over a different pain, then something has to get pushed to the side. Something has to sit on the side lines while you deal with all the other shit going on. I thought I was over this, I guess you really don't ever get over the loss, but surely the pain, after 30 years at least, shouldn't cripple you, just because of a certain day on the calendar. 

As I said, life has moved on, as it does and as it should. The flashbacks are less frequent, and more about remembering how great it was, the good times, and the fun times, rather than the loss itself. That last memory of his last night, down to the last fucking detail. Although that is still there, it's easier and easier to just skip over it, push it back down, and remember something funny that happened, or how his eyes would sparkle when he told some story about a customer at work. How he would laugh and laugh at the most random things, and how you couldn't help but laugh right along with him. So today, today has been fucked. I didn't want this, I don't need it, and it can fuck right off again.

Time heals all wounds they say, well, no time doesn't heal all wounds. Time can slap on a band aid, it can set a split, but the wounds are there, scars on your very self. Slap some makeup over them, and no one knows, but they are there, and there they remain. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Police State?

 

It was with great trepidation that I decided to head out and do some shopping, for me and for Xmas. I'd put it off too long, and what with having to obey the instructions for isolating at home from the government, I hadn't ventured outside my drive way for what felt like years. (I last went out on Thursday after work, but whatever.)

I walked out the door, looking around for guns trained on me, looking at my chest for that tell tale red dot, but nothing, so I scampered down the stairs to my car. I breathed a sigh of relief when I made it, locking the doors behind me. (no I didn't really lock the doors). I couldn't see anyone else out and about so I backed slowly up the driveway, only to see my neighbour crossing the road with a pair of secateurs in hand. I trembled, but continued as he wasn't running and shouting at me. He stopped me at the top of the driveway and I expected him to point his weapon at me and threaten me. Instead he greeted me, and said he was going to mow my lawn and do a bit of trimming for me. What a relief, I sure as shit don't want to be killed while idling in the car. 

I drove up the road, and spotted no cars, but as I turned the corner, there was another brave soul, venturing out. I expected they were just as scared as I was, both of us with a death grip on our steering wheels, huddled low in our seats. 

As I continued on my journey, I noticed people walking, not in groups of one, but in 2's and 3's, and families, taking the kids out for a ride on their bikes. Dogs being walked, people washing cars, or mowing lawns. I couldn't believe it, after all, America was set to invade to set us free from the tyranny we lived with. I joined the stream of cars heading down the mountain, thinking that at any moment a black hawk would drop in front of us and start firing, but we made it down alive. I kept an ear out for that tell tale thump thump of a chopper. 

I drove closer to the edge of my LGA, expecting the stream of cars to slow and stop while we passed through a check point into the neighbouring LGA, but there was nothing, just some idiot unable to do the speed limit. Well surely, there would be a checkpoint before we were allowed across the river, but no, again I was surprised to see that apart from traffic lights, nothing stopped me. I refused to be lulled into a false sense of security though, we've all seen the videos, the tik toks, and for fucks sake, Candace Owens was calling for the invasion, how could she possibly get it wrong? 

Reaching the car park, I followed a line of cars in and started searching for a parking space. I had to drive up 4 levels before finding anything, the car park is only 5 levels (at least that part is). Letting out a deep breath I turned off the car and looked around before getting out. Grabbed my mask, phone and wallet, then to the boot for a couple of shopping bags. Laughter rang out as a toddler in a stroller went into hysterics at the antics of their mother and father. Had to be the military in disguise, they'd even stolen a child to make their cover more real. 

Again, I checked for red dots, but on finding nothing walked into the plaza, only to be greeted by crowds upon crowds of people. People just like me, masks on, shopping bags in hand, doing ordinary everyday things. I couldn't believe my eyes, surely I was hallucinating it all. I was probably strapped to a gurney in an underground lab with everyone else, being kept in a coma as I was experimented on by my government? 

I headed towards Big W, and was stopped by a line, uh huh, here we go I thought to myself, but again I was wrong, it was just a line of people checking in with their smart phones, being greeted by a masked Big W employee. Sigh, how could this be? How could all those tik toks and videos be so very wrong, how could Candace be wrong?

Well folks, I did spend 15 minutes in a queue, there was no social distancing, just a queue of people with shopping, just like me, masked and waiting to get to the check outs. So much for a Police State lol. I have a hard time going out in crowds, don't like them, never will, but I braved it and survived without being arrested or confined by the military. In fact, I didn't see a single police car the whole time I was out. No military or police, walking the Plaza, unless they were in civvies and out and about with their families. 

The worst part of my trip, was the crowds, and I admit my mask is uncomfortable, but I will continue to wear it. If I can help protect one person, out of all those that were there today, then I'll be a happy camper. So, put away your guns, stow those invasion plans, turn off the jets and choppers, we are fine. In fact we are better than fine. I know there are people who have lost their jobs, some have lost their homes, but we are not living in a country that needs any help from America or anywhere else. Look after your own people, the hundreds of thousands that have died in your own country. But if you must keep pushing on with the plans, please share them on FB, we Aussies are having a hell of a good laugh at them all lol. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Do Not Speak for Me

 

Firstly I'm just going to say FUCK COVID. It's not the first time I've said it and I'm sure it won't be the last, and here's another one FUCK COVID DENIERS. Fuck the protesters, Fuck the refusing to wear a mask crowd (that does not include those with a medical exemption), Fuck the anti vaxxers, Fuck those that refuse the vaccine for no medical reason, FUCK THEM ALL TO HELL AND BACK. 

Regardless of what the recent protesters are trying to say, they do not march for all, they are not fighting for our freedoms, they are simply uncaring fuckers who care only for themselves. They carry signs about their rights to march and free speech, yada yada yada, and they have that right, under normal circumstances. The Public Health Act trumps those rights, and yet all these sheep, sit down in front of the PCs and are suddenly all lawyers and scientists. They hit on one thing, and stop, they don't continue to do research, they just stop and jump on the band wagon of some covid denier or some one who says the Government is taking away their rights, and bam, suddenly the rest of us are sheep, while these cult wannabes go about destroying the freedoms of the rest of us. Yep, the rest of us, who follow the rules because we don't want our family, our neighbours, our friends, fucking dying!!!!

They call those of us following the rules, sheep, because we follow the rules. We are actually law abiding citizens, we aren't the ones being herded down the black web by some random idiot on Instagram, Twitter, FB, or You Tube. No gorgeous model, male or female, is going to tell me to trust them, and not the medical profession. I'm not going to bitch about Doctors and how they don't tell me what to do, or how they work for big Pharma, and then go find some fucking holistic creep, who sells me a bunch of oils that make me smell like I've been soaking in 10 mth old piss. Although that is one way to get people to social distance, but I digress. I'm not going to follow someone who calls himself a doctor, despite being stripped of his medical license.

Like many others, I'm overwhelmed, my brain is fried, I'm angry, I've had enough, I'm depressed, I want to scream, I want to punch someone, I just want my life back, and I cry constantly. But unlike some people, I will do everything in my power to get my life back, I will wear a mask, I will practice social distancing, I'll stay home, I'll only shop for essentials, I'll miss my family, I'll get vaccinated, and I'll continue to cry. I want nothing more than to jump in my car, and have a catch up with family, or just go on a simple drive, not stopping anywhere or visiting someone, just drive, but I can't and I won't disobey the law. 

Don't come at me with your bullshit about how many people who have been vaxxed have died, I can come back at you with much higher figures of people who have died from Covid. People who have died alone, struggling to breathe, while their family can do nothing but wait for that phone call. Don't come at me with your bullshit, about, it's just an engagement party, we have the right to celebrate, well I have the right to think you are a total fucking idiot, who let infected people socialise and spread Covid. We should sue you all for infringing on our rights, and donate the winnings to research for a cure, because we know there isn't a cure, just a preventative really. Don't come at me with crap about me still being able to get Covid, do you think I'm a fucking idiot, and didn't read everything I could about the vaccine? I know that I could still get Covid, but unlike you, I also know that the chances of me ending up stuck on a ventilator because of Covid, are very slim. Of course there's also the fact, that I stay at home, and am less likely to either get Covid, or spread it. 

So, to all you protesters, you don't speak for me, you are not protecting me, you are not fighting for my freedom. You are in fact, having a tantrum, like a fucking 2 yr old. You are the reason we continue to have horrific numbers of covid cases, you are the reason we are still stuck at home, and unable to live our normal lives. (Side note: those of you who may not go out and march, but still refuse to follow the Public Health laws are considered protesters) Do I think the Government fucked up, damn straight I do. But that doesn't mean I won't do everything in my power to set this country to rights again, to get us all back working, and hanging out with friends and family. 

Just want to add, to anyone who is feeling depressed and overwhelmed, please reach out to someone, there is counselling available in all countries over the phone, people who will happily talk to you. You may feel alone, but please remember you aren't, we are all in this together, no matter what part of the world we live in. 

Catch yas 

Cathy

Dad

 

My Dad died on the 2nd June 2021, his funeral was yesterday, 10th June 2021.     

Before his funeral, his partner Lyn, sent us a missive written by Dad when he was 76. It was hard to read, but at the same time, a must read. I now have so much more understanding of why he was the father and man he was. 

We learnt so many things about him, that we had no idea about, simple things like the fact he was a Scout Leader in 1958, the year the first of us was born, so no surprise we didn't know. The fact that he was in the Blaxland Progress Association, I didn't even know there was one lol. But the biggest thing was about his childhood, how he and his sister grew up after their mother died so young. 

It explained so much about why he was who he was, why he acted the way he did. Any one that thinks you aren't a product of your childhood is mistaken. I'm not saying that if you were abused, you'll be an abuser, but there is going to be something that shapes us. If we were abused, it's a choice to turn around and do the same or to be completely different. Dad wasn't abused by the way, at least not physically, but I think in a way he was abused mentally. The world was a different place, WW2 came when he was a child, his widowed father wanted to do his bit, and did, but it meant his children had to live with relatives. And that they were split up in the end, meaning that when they tried to connect later in life, they were worlds apart. Don't get me wrong, Dad loved his sister Janice, as did we all, but there was never the bond that he wished they'd had.     

He lived all over the place, I'm not going to list them, and I believe because of that, he preferred the peace of his own company, instead of hunting out people to converse with and form relationships with. He couldn't relate to many because his life was so different.  When he became a father, he had no reference point. He had no idea what was expected of him, as he hadn't been properly fathered himself. When his Dad returned to his life, and Dad moved back in with him, Dad was already 12, a very independent 12. He had a Dad that didn't know how to be a Dad and he didn't know how to be a son. 

Probably because of all the women he and his sister lived with, he became somewhat of a feminist. Which worked out great since Mum was very much a feminist, no man was going to tell her she couldn't work lol. When I came along, he was not going to be the sort of man to keep his daughter locked up and relying on a man. But, at the same time, as I grew up, and became the rebel daughter, I'd catch glimpses of the chauvinist in him. If I came home late from a friends, I was questioned relentlessly, and yet my brothers could do the same, and there was no issue. The boys had outside chores, mine were all confined to the house. I was encouraged to learn to drive, to get a job, and even bought my first car of him. He never told me or made me feel, that I was less than my brothers in all the ways that count. 

He was not demonstrative, but we knew we were loved. I don't think he knew how to be demonstrative with us, and that hurts me to the core. But I have a better understanding of it, now I know more about how he was shaped. He talked about how he 'abandoned' Mum, his word not mine. I feel that he judged himself harshly with that word. Not saying he didn't leave her and that he broke all our hearts, but she wasn't left penniless on the street with 3 kids to care for. He left her, yes, but he left a strong woman that grew and didn't wither away and die without a man to protect her. There is still feelings of resentment there for his action, but I think it's more the fact that when Mum developed Alzheimers, it was supposed to be the man who'd promised to love and honour her caring for her, not her children. I, for one deeply resented him for that, but I still loved him regardless. 

My feelings have been all over the place as I've read his words and learnt so much about him. Hearing the words of others at his funeral also shaped a picture of someone I didn't even know. He wrote about my leaving my ex husband, and his belief that I was keeping the girls from their father. That hurt me, the fact that he thought that I would or could even do something like that, was like being stabbed in the heart. For the record, I didn't stop him from seeing his kids, he chose to stop seeing them. Didn't even tell me, just didn't turn up to pick them up, and didn't answer his phone. He left it up to a friend of mine to tell me Who the fuck does that sort of shit. But his words were written 9 years ago, I would like to believe that he had learnt the truth from my musings, at the very least. 

Regardless of how we were as kids, or how Dad was, we knew he was proud of us. We connected better as adults than we ever did when we were younger, and that makes me sad, but it is what it is, there is no going back. He loved his children, grandchildren and great grandchildren with a passion. He'd play games with them, listen to their tales, and watch them play with delight, they are his legacy. He may not have been able to parent as he should have, but he was a wonder to watch when playing with the grandkids and great grandkids. 

I'm happy that he had 40 wonderful years with Lyn, and that he turned into the man he may have been if he'd had the chance when younger. I'm glad he was loved, and had someone by his side while he dealt with the 11 years of cancer. And I'm glad he had barely any pain that whole time, and that he only had to spend 24 hrs in palliative care before he left this world. I will miss him for as long as I live, but shall celebrate the fact he went as quickly as he wanted, and lived his life to the fullest, right up until that end. 

My cousin and I, imagine that he is with his Mum, Dad and sister Janice, maybe sitting around a table and getting to know each other, as they should have been able to, all those years ago. 

A chapter has closed, a new one will begin. Love ya Dad 💓

'The Reaper comes for us all when he is ready. There is no extension of time, or pleas that will turn him from our door. He does not listen when we say we aren't ready, that we need more time to tell someone we love them, he doesn't care. Spend your lives wisely, enjoy, live, love, laugh and cry. Be sure those you leave behind, know about you, open yourself to them, they won't turn away, they will embrace your honesty and love.'

Catch yas

Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - Help I'm turning into my Mother

 

Maybe not, but lately I've been noticing stuff I'm doing or thinking that takes me back to Mum's house lol. 

I was looking for something appetising in the pantry and thought, oh a cup of soup would be great, putt out 5 boxes, unopened, every single one of them had expired. Chucked them all in the bin, but had a sigh of relief at the thought that they were only a year expired, not 5 like some of Mums lol. 

Ares, will get restless and open up my kitchen dresser, and drag things out that he then proceeds to push under the dresser. Little shit that he is. That means I have to get down on hands and knees to try and get them out, and I'm not as young as I used to be, getting down isn't so bad, it's getting back up that's a killer. I started going through solutions, like kids locks (actually still had a couple but got rid of them a while ago) and hit on, a basket to put in the cupboard and hold everything that he drags out. 

I started planning a trip to buy some, then stopped in my tracks. Mum had little storage baskets all over the damn place, mostly where they weren't needed, and all those that weren't sold at the garage sale, had to be donated or thrown out, depending on the condition of them. Mostly they were thrown out cause they were broken, but when she'd replaced, she didn't replace. Just kept using the broken ones, and found something else to shove into the new ones. 

Hence, am I turning into my Mother lol. At that horrifying thought a clean out ensued. I don't want anyone to have to come into my house and be as horrified as I was when faced with the crap Mum had. Pantry and fridge all clean, cupboards gone through to ensure nothing was there that I didn't actually use or need. Bin filling up lol. I then attacked my wardrobe, got rid of 3 bags of stuff I don't wear, and won't wear again. That all got donated. I don't have a lot of shoes, but I went through them as well, actually found a pair of boots that I love but had forgotten about and was even looking at buying some new ones exactly the same lol. 

As to the stuff in the dresser, I did find a container that I can use, I'm pretty sure it was one of Mums, eeekkkk, but it will work, and it means I didn't go out and buy something like she would lol. 

I realised that I make a conscience effort not to hoard like she did. I get a jar, wash it out and recycle, rubber bands, see ya, don't wear those clothes anymore, they are off to donation, anything broken, it's thrown out cause lets face it, I'm never going to fix the fucker lol. I've been watching a few episodes of hoarders, mind boggling shit, and Mum was never that bad that you had to make a path through piles and piles of crap. Everything she hoarded had a place, and nothing exploded or fell down. She didn't have mice or rats, or cockroaches, just crap, saved neatly and cleanly but crap none the less. 

Oh, the coat hangers, forgot the coat hangers lol. Every time she bought something, she bought it with a hanger, those cheap plastic crap ones. She had hundreds of hangers, probably thousands, and no clothes to go on them. So they all went as well. I never bring hangers home with clothes I buy, and I'll get rid of something old when replacing it with something new. In a way, I guess, I have her to thank for it. Mind you I have a collection of every single card I've ever gotten, going back to the cards from when I was born lol. But they are neatly boxed up and stored away, and if I miss one it's not a big deal. 

I also have a box with some memorabilia for my son from his Dad. He never got to know him, so it's a fun thing for him to have just to get a glimpse into his Dad's life. Again that is all just in a box stored away with the cards. And there's another of stuff I just like as memories, some old school books, old school tie etc. So 3 boxes of stuff, and they are small boxes, not big ones. I do have a lot of photo albums, and loose photos. They are mostly Mum's, her history, and her families history, stuff I don't want my kids or their kids to forget about. The grandkids love looking through them, cracks them up lol. The more I go on, the bigger the load of crap I have lol. I do regularly sort through it though, and chuck stuff out. I don't save shit, for shits sake, like Mum did. I mean, a rubber band jar that was her mothers? Seriously, that got chucked as soon as I started cleaning lol. 

I'm going to stop now, need to do some more clearing out, now that I've typed out all the crap I have, it needs culling lol. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - Are you my mother?

 

Worst visit ever!!!!

I had to cut my visit short this week, while I think I'm strong and can handle anything life throws at me, today was just too much for me. I need time to absorb and recharge, time to get back to normal as the tough bitch I am.     

First, stupid covid, masks back on inside, and as per email received could visit in their room or in the small courtyard outside. I opted for courtyard cause, hello, outside. A couple of other visitors did the same, although the nurse tried to tell us we couldn't, we both quoted the email we'd received to say we couldn't. We social distanced, we masked up, we weren't hugging or anything. So sitting there chatting and some registrar or whatever comes out and says, as per out email, blah blah only visiting in rooms. So I said, sorry, but that's not what my emails says, and the other visitors actually had a copy of the email sent, so we sent him on his way. Lets be honest here, in the courtyard, there was 2 residents, and 3 visitors, not all sitting together, and there was room for many more even if they were social distancing. Anyway, he goes off after seeing the copy of the email, leaving us alone, but he wasn't done. Comes back with his copy and because it was sent after ours, he announces that his supersedes ours. Okay, whatever, I should have printed off my email, as it was actually dated after his, but yes sir, no sir, 3 bags full sir. 

Let me just go back to being outside, first. So we are chatting away, Mum asking where her parents are, and when is her aunt coming back to visit (all dead for years) and I filled her in, yet again on their deaths, and she was, "Oh, wish I'd gotten to go to the funerals" which led to me telling her she did lol. I then had to tell her about her cousins who'd died, one had died well before she moved into the home, the other, just after. 

"But they were so young." she exclaimed

"Yes, your generation, but they didn't live to the same age as you, 85."

"Who's 85?"

"You are Mum."

"Oh, so my Mum is 85?"

"No, you are."

"But aren't you my sister?"

And that was it, heart fucking breaking, so loud I'm sure all of Australia at least heard it. Determinedly I soldiered on. 

"No, I'm Cathy, your daughter." 

"Oh, am I going home, I miss seeing my kids?"

"Mum, sorry, but this is your home now. I'm your daughter."

It's hard to be sure, but I don't think she got it. She asked again about going home to see her kids, and again I told her this is her home. Then she moved on and started talking about how her father was building her a house.

"Dad is going to build over behind that orange building, he has a block of land there that he bought with some of the money he got for inventing the car lift thing. You know, the thing that you put cars on so you can work under them."

"Car hoist?"

"Yes, that's it, so the rest of the money he'll use to build me a house, so I can live there. How long will that take? Can I go home yet." 

I know Eddie (my grandfather) was a tinkerer and invented a few things that he never took out patents on, but pretty sure car hoist wasn't one of them. 

It was at that point in our convo that the registrar dude returned to rain on our parade. So off we went to Mum's room. 

I shouldn't be surprised when I go in there, but each time I do, it's gut wrenching. The photos that we'd taken back out of drawers, last visit, were back in them. The bathroom stuff was all sitting in a bag on her dresser, presumably so it was ready to take. 

"I've started packing, because I'm going home."

"Mum, no, you aren't going home."

"Why? I need to be with my family. Who am I married to again.?"

"You're divorced Mum, but you were married to Neville."

"Is he dead? You'd think he'd visit if he wasn't dead."

"No, Mum he's not dead."

"Well, I need to be home, I know the kids will have school and I haven't taught for a long time, but we'll work it out."

As I unpacked and put away, toothbrush and toothpaste number 5 (that's how many of each she has not a brand) I struggled. I wanted to cry, but I felt angry, I was feeling angry at her, and that is not right. She doesn't deserve my anger, I knew that I couldn't just put all the shit away, and all the photos back, and then sit down for a chat. I had to finish up and go home. 

I tidied her room, put everything back, told her that no I didn't want a stuffed animal to take home. And walked her out to the dining room where they were setting up coffee and biscuits for the residents. She tried to walk out with me, and I told her she wasn't allowed, and that she should go and sit down. Even though she protested, she had her eyes on the prize, that's coffee and biscuits to the rest of us. 

I punched in the code to get out, and ripped off the fucking mask so I could breathe. I can breathe with one on, but when you are hanging on by a thread, you need to be able to take big calming breaths, and that's not possible for me in a mask. I sat in the car and just cried, Alzheimer's is the fucking worst thing in the world. At least to me. You are fine physically, but the mind has just gone. the person still looks the same, but the person you knew is gone. And they aren't ever coming back. 

As I sat there, I realised something else, while she smiled at me, when I walked in, there was no sign of recognition. She smiled because I smiled, and headed for her, she didn't know who I was, and not once did she call me by name, despite me calling her Mum, over and over. To her I was a nice person visiting with chocolate and cake lol. The total cruelty of this disease is that next time I visit, she'll probably be completely different. She'll know who I am, at least. I know times like this will get more frequent, until this will be the day to day reality. She'll stop asking about going home, she'll forget even her Mum and Dad, she may welcome a visit, but it will be a stranger visiting. But I'll continue to visit. I did make a decision after my last visit, not to push myself into going every weekend. Yeh, yeh, terrible daughter, blah blah, shut the fuck up. I'm no good to either of us, if I push myself beyond what I can endure, so this is me, doing what I have to, so that I can be there for her, whether she knows me, or not. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - Open for Business

 

It might not seem like much to some, but today was the first day I've seen Mum in about 13 mths, fuck Covid. Saying hi over the phone, isn't the same, she's been confused on phones for ages and ages, so that's never easy, and doesn't give me any idea on how she really is lol. Knowing that she is healthy, and being looked after, doesn't beat the actual contact, the hug, the smiles, the laughter. But today was the day. 

Once I found out restrictions were lifted it was, hooray, for about 5 minutes. Then the trepidation set in. She has Alzheimers, will she remember me, what if I get there and they say, no sorry, you can't see her, what if the vaccination had some sort of effect on her, what if she does remember me and yells at me for being away so long? Out of every thought that was forming in my brain and oozing out fear and anxiety, the worst one was if she didn't remember me, that thought was almost crippling. 

Anyone who has been around someone with Alzheimers knows how quickly they can forget those they love, especially if they don't see them routinely. But, I'm happy to say, that apparently she has been looking forward to me visiting again, as per comments from staff lol. 

Were there any changes? Well she is a year older, 85, now, so there is some due to age, I noticed her eyebrows are a lot whiter lol. She still has the relatively wrinkle free skin that seems to be the thing for women in her family, fingers crossed she's passed that on lol. She's more accustomed to her wheely walker. Before it was always, "Oh, I have to have that, they make me." almost complaining about it. Now she just got it and used it, no comments, although she is slower with it than she was. But again, she's older, and she isn't getting out and about walking. 

She didn't have makeup on, now that to anyone who knows her was a bit of a shock, but I have to say, I liked it. I'm not a makeup wearer, at least not without bitching about it, hate the stuff, but Mum wouldn't go to the shops without it, and insisted on wearing it everyday since she's been in the home. Not having the access to me with the restrictions in place may have helped relax her makeup addiction, I wasn't buying any for her lol. She still has some, not a lot, left, but to me, the fact she didn't have any on, indicates she's relaxed enough there, not to have to wear it. It's going to save her a lot of money too.

I bought a few basic items for her, toothpaste, deodorant etc, so we ventured into her room to put them away. Also, Tara hadn't seen her room, so she wanted to take a look. Had anything changed, nope. She still had a million and one stuffed animals, no freaking idea why she buys them, cluttering up the top of her chest of drawers. All her photos had been packed away, she still seems to think she's only there for a visit, and random items were in drawers and other things. She told me she needed toothpaste, she had 2 tubes along with 2 toothbrushes in her jewellery box. Since I had bought toothpaste, she now has 3 tubes, all in the bathroom now, but they could be anywhere when I visit next time. 

She has limited hanging space, so I always fold jumpers, and track pants, and they go in the drawers she has, all labelled. Most of the drawers were empty, so she has them all hanging up again lol. Still no sign of the TV remote, but she didn't tell me someone had stolen it this time, so I'll have to get a universal remote for her. Not that she's in her room much anyway, but I'd like her to be able to turn it on for the noise when she's in her room. 

She still seems to think that her Mum and Dad are still alive, and today talked about her Aunty Glad and her family that have apparently been staying in different sections of the Nursing Home. They are obviously there for a break, because she did say they didn't stay long lol. She also mentioned her surprise when they arrived, marching hand in hand in height order, and she laughed at how delightful it was. The whole thing sounded scripted to me, and bugged me until I remembered later that she was reliving a scene from The Sound Of Music lol. There was also a little boy that kept asking her if she was his mother, and she said she laughed at him, and told him that she'd help him find her. Pretty sure that's from her head, cause no little kid would think this old lady was their mother lol. 

But all in all, she's the same. Her memory is worse, but that's expected, she did know us, so that was a plus, and she mentioned the kids, and how she'd love to see them. Tara will organise for her kids to see her, and next family thing we do, we can pick Mum up and she can come along. I have to say how grateful I am that Tara was able to come with me, she'd obviously picked up on how nervous I was. But now I've done the first face to face, was able to give her a hug without her screaming at me like a stranger, I'll be able to continue the visits. 

I'm not sure if I will go weekly or fortnightly, I say that, because I've realised how much the weekly visits effect my mental health, and that isn't good for me or her. But at the same time, if I don't go weekly, I'll probably feel guilty lol. So I'm going to play it by ear, I can either see her or not, simple. 

Catch yas

Cathy

PS, I did take one of the photos with me, it's a photo of Caryn and her ex hehehe. Will have to find a new one to put in the beautiful frame. 

It's a Conspiracy

 

'It's a Conspiracy' words that have been thrown around in my family for years, as a joke or a lame attempt at an excuse for non acceptable behaviour. Now it seems that everybody says it, if they don't like what they are hearing, it must be a conspiracy. 

Pretty much everything in the anti vax movement is a conspiracy, at least according to them. Big Pharma and Government cover ups, a friends aunts cousins workmate said it happened so it must be true. People have forgotten how to read the lie, how to recognise the absurdity of it all. Thanks to the internet, people have disconnected from the real world, and believe anything they see on line. Not realising that anyone can post anything on line, whatever they damn well want, and that doesn't make it true. 

I've seen people on line defend their stance, they are totally locked in, it doesn't matter how much proof of the lie, you throw at them, they still hang on to the belief that they are right. Most people will be open to learn, if I'm wrong about something, and I'm proved wrong, I will take notice and change my thinking. But what sets them apart from me. Is it because I didn't grow up with the internet? Is it because I don't look for any reason to blame someone other than myself? Is it that I see the truth, but that fucks with my whole way of life and to change is to destroy myself? 

I'm no psychiatrist, or psychologist, just a person, like anyone (well maybe not, I am awesome lol), but why am I less susceptible? It can't be because of what I've gone through in my life, I know people who have been through the same, surely there are people who have been through similar who are susceptible. Could it have something to do with my up bringing, as I said, no internet back then. We were taught that TV was for entertainment purposes only, music is a form of expression and to be enjoyed as it is, if we want to learn about something, read about it, research it, talk to people about their experiences, learn from others. We were also taught not to believe everything you heard. Remember 'Chinese Whispers'? I loved that game, I loved how you would tell someone something, they'd pass it on to someone else, etc, and at the end the original whisper was something completely different. It showed me how easy it is to hear false information that got even worse with each retelling. 

Of course not all conspiracies have anything to do with vaccinations. What makes people fall for a conman? Why is it that some youtube video made by some random person seems more real than actual proof? There is no doubt, a lot of reasons, and they have probably been discussed by smarter people than me lol, for people to fall into the rabbit hole that sends a logical person, like me, crazy. I always figure that if some alleged expert (that no one has ever heard of) is telling me that something is good for me, or I should buy their cure, that's a sure sign, they are full of shit lol. 

Buying the cure, that is another one that gets to me, why do so many people believe that some ordinary person, has discovered the cure for cancer, and it's only Big Pharma and the corrupt Government that is stopping it from being released to the general public. But hey come to my website and I'll sell it to you for $20 + shipping and handling. 

Let's look at the cases of outing a witch. How anyone could believe that someone who was supposedly so powerful, they destroyed crops and created diseases, and yet couldn't save themselves from execution, has always made me roll my eyes. I mean, seriously, I've got all that power, but hey go ahead tie me to the stake and burn me alive, cause I'll just let you go ahead and do that, instead of escaping lol. I guess back then, it was easier to believe the bullshit, I mean, education was only for the rich, science was nothing like it is today, and of course Doctors were still using leeches to cure everything. I can imagine the convo in the little village as the Doctor walked past, 

'Oooo Betsy, there's that so called medicine man.'

'Oh Edie, I heard that he stuck some leeches on poor Maeve. She hasn't been the same since.'

'No doubt he charged her a fortune for making her sicker, I'll never trust him.'

'Her poor husband had to pay 2 chickens, a goat, and a sack of potatoes, and all for some leeches that have sucked out her soul. She lounges around all day, reading, not looking after her husband. It's a crime.' 😂

I love the flat earth conspiracy, just the whole idea of it, is so utterly ridiculous I can spend hours laughing over flat earth pages on line. Some conspiracy theories are better entertainment than Netflix lol. But at the end of the day, it is still just a theory, it's not proven so is therefore not fact, and we might just as well be watching a show on Netflix. I don't mind a good alien conspiracy theory as well, it has to be good though, a bit of actual fact thrown in lol.

Oh and I can't forget how the government is trying to control us by putting chips into vaccines. Okay, that's not happening people, get that into your head. But here's a thought for you, why would you go online at all, whether it be on a phone, pc or tablet if you believed the government was trying to control you? All your info is in your devices, no one needs to chip you 😂

Something I did as a toddler was believe my older brother when he said eating a snail was good, he lied lol. But in some weird way he taught me a lesson, don't eat fucking garden snails lol. If anyone tries to convince you that eating raw garden sails is good for you, I give you this information for free, they are lying, and probably lie about other things as well lol. And it is those people who start the conspiracy theories. That person you just paid $20 + postage and handling, they are laughing at you. They know they are selling you a lie, they don't care. They turn up on the internet, searching for desperate people. They have others who laugh at you, posting reviews about their miracle cure and how Big Pharma knows about the treatment that has cured them. They laugh, and lie, because you let them. 

I get that believing in a conspiracy theory is easier sometimes, than facing facts, facing reality. It won't change anything though, you might have convinced yourself that you are right and on the right path, but in reality, you aren't, and until you realise that, you will continue on your way believing a load of bullshit. It might not even be a conspiracy theory that you believe in, but it's still a lie. Believing the bullshit, is much easier than reality, I know. I wish that I could believe the bullshit myself at times, it would sure as hell make life easier. 

Of course if you believe in the Australia doesn't exist conspiracy theory, you won't have read any of this, as I don't exist 😂

Catch yas

Cathy

 

I don't wanna

 

I've been heading for a downward spiral lately, having suffered from depression for years, you recognise the signs. I've come to the conclusion, that I just don't want to adult anymore lol. I want someone else to step in, and take control. Someone to make all decisions involving money, Mum and well, my life. 

Tell me when to go to bed, I'll probably kick and scream about it, but make me. Tell me what time to wake up, I won't be nice when I do wake up, but tell me anyway. Make me sit down to eat a proper meal, toast or coco pops for dinner is probably not adulting. You pay all the bills, you stress over all the small and large decisions about Mum, you take it over and let me be. Let me go outside and run under the sprinkler, let me leave dirty clothes lying around, let me do absolutely nothing while you handle it all. 

Sunday was my day off, the spiral hit, sitting in my chair watching some ridiculous show on TV and bam, started crying. I wasn't crying for any reason, wasn't watching cute kittens and puppies, or even babies, or the big one for me, some funeral ad. Just started for no reason, and the only thing I wanted to do was curl up and just bawl. Then I thought, where the hell are the damn adults to help me out when I need them. Why do I have to be the adult? I don't wanna........

I want to wake up in the morning, knowing the biggest decision I have to make for the day, is should I brush my hair? I just want to put on the kettle, feed the cat and enjoy my damn coffee. I don't want those thoughts pushing their way into my head, you need to pay this bill, don't forget to make that shopping list, the car needs petrol, get that form done for Mum, balance yours and her budget, am I doing enough, could I do more? All those fucking things that dance around my head all fucking day and night. Am I good enough? Should I really be an adult? Who the fuck put me in charge? Actually the 'Who the fuck put me in charge?' should be in caps, cause whoever they were had no fucking idea what they were doing, lol. 

As a kid, you fight against the rules, can't wait to be an adult so you can do your own thing, you will be in control. Now I'm 61, I want someone else to do it all. I'm just so tired of it. I would probably end up rebelling as I did as a teen, can't drive to the shops? Just you watch, I'll show you!!! lol. Can't stay up late?, who's going to stop me!!!! lol. It could be just because I'm the sole adult, well the sole person in this house, so it all falls on me. I get overwhelmed, and is that a surprise? No it's not. Being overwhelmed is not a new thing, it's just something that, when I'm spiralling comes to the front, standing proud and at attention. I try not to let it show, and I know I'm good with a laugh and a sarcastic comment at pretty much everything, but the dark side is always there, waiting to leap out, and well, overwhelm me. 

I don't know about you, but I've spent a lot of my adult life feeling guilty. Not because I've committed a crime, but things like, did I do enough for the kids, did they have enough growing up with a mother who couldn't give them everything all their friends had. Did I really help them become the great adults that they are? I married twice, first husband mentally abused me for years, told me I wasn't good enough, drank because that's what he wanted, but why didn't he want to come home to me and the girls, did I fail? Second husband was my soulmate, but when he died, the guilt overwhelmed me for having my girls go through the loss of 2 fathers, and after an argument with my son, why didn't I put myself back out there and find another father for them. Obviously, I didn't want to put myself out there again, fuck that after 2 marriages, but they all grew up without a father, so did I do everything I could for them? 

Then there's Mum. I feel guilty that she wasn't able to stay at home longer, I should have quit my job and been a full time carer for her. Why was I selfish? But was I really selfish? I mean she's happy, and well cared for, so why would I feel guilty? Cause I do, plan and simple. I'm overwhelmed with guilt, and that's because, yep, I'm a fucking adult. If I was a kid, I wouldn't have to make these decisions, so again, I don't wanna....

So there it is folks, I don't wanna.....unless someone tells me to do something I don't wanna do, then I pull out the but I'm an adult card lol. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - And the hits keep coming

 I was going through Mum's statements from the Nursing Home, and noticed they'd taken out almost double the usual amount, so emailed them to find out why. It turns out that not only does she have to pay the standard $52 odd dollars for her daily care fees, but she also has to pay another fee called The Means Tested Aged Care Fee. Now it is only $12.52 per day, but that's another hit to her very limited budget.

Why are they charging her this, you may be asking (you might not be asking, but you're reading my blog, so shut up while I tell you lol), all pensioners need to have their assets tested to see if they are getting paid the correct pension, and apparently so the government can screw them over for more money. 

Mum has worked hard her whole life, paying taxes, and paying off her own home, and is now being punished for it. We had to make the hard decision to put her in the home, when advised by the hospital that they wouldn't let her back home, without 24/7 care, and the home was the safest and best option for her. It is a wonderful place, they take really good care of her, and I have no complaints with them, even if they are a bunch of damn Catho's (blame my brother for that one hehehe). We had to sell her house, to pay for the refundable bond that paid for her private room and ensuite, and she is charged from her pension for her daily care. None of that was unexpected, and we were happy with it. 

Like every other pensioner, she was means tested, and they looked at all her assets. When she owned her home, that was not taken into consideration, but now she has no home of her own, they have hit her up for this fee because of the refundable bond. What pisses me off, is that this bond may be refundable, but it doesn't earn interest and as she is in the home for life, she won't ever see it again. As her heirs, my brothers and I will benefit from it, but not Mum. So, in effect, to me she is being punished for being old and unable to care for herself, like the old venerable blot on society. 

I admit to being short with the poor girl who took my call from DHS, as a call centre operator I'm usually much more polite, because I understand they are just doing their job. But this made me so angry that I was rude, and I don't regret it lol. She directed me to a form to download and complete to plead hardship. Reading up on it, I can't see how it would help as it seems to only be for a year, but I'll try. The form is fucking long, and not easy to follow, I have to provide receipts and statements, so it won't be easy, but I will do it. I'm not doing it for me, but for Mum. 

So, in short, the government is screwing over yet another old lady, and don't give a shit. I've sent an email to the Federal Aged Care Minister, expecting it to be read by a minion and then ignored, but I felt better for it at least. Any other Aussies out there who read my blog, feel free to email as well. Minister.Colbeck@health.gov.au on behalf of all Aussie pensioners who may find themselves in the same boat as my Mum. 

Catch yas

Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - Damn Rona

Firstly I just want to explain Rona, in case you are wondering that is. Rona stands for Corona Virus or Covid-19, shortened to Rona, cause I'm Aussie lol. Secondly, shout out to my cousin Robyn, I won't go into details, but she messaged me today, and it reminded me that I hadn't written for quite some time, and as it helps me feel better when I write, here goes. Fair warning, this probably won't contain as much humour as usual, in my 'Life in the Twilight Zone' missives, although it's rather presumptuous of me to think anyone actually laughs at my musings lol. 

We've all been living in isolation, socially distancing ourselves, some of us have been wearing face masks, and we've all been busy washing our hands (although one would like to think we do that normally anyway). There's been ads on TV about how to act and what we can do, one that comes to mind is a shot of a grandparent sitting in a chair outside a window reading to grandkids who are all sitting inside. Or people face timing family and friends, even just talking on the phone makes an appearance. But what we don't see is what do we do if it's not possible to sit outside a window, face time or call. Just to be clear, it's not impossible to face time or call, but I'll explain what I mean and why I added them. 

I work from home, which I'm sure I've said before, so am used to isolation. I like it, I hate when I have to go to the office, sitting on a couple of crowded trains for 2 hours each way, is not my idea of a fun time, and the city is dirty and loud. I can live without it, easily. In a normal week, I would go out twice, once to shop and once to visit Mum. Of course, there are times when I'm out more, visiting family or friends, but normally it's just the twice. Now it's once a week and I'm getting antsy. 

Mums nursing home has been in lock down for over a month. A staff member who worked there, tested positive for Rona, they say she wasn't working while sick, but just because she didn't feel sick, doesn't mean she wasn't. So into lock down they go, totally understandable and glad they did. They followed the guidelines from the Health Department, and ran tests on all. Luckily all tests have shown negative results. They've sent texts each day to ensure we know all is fine. And I love that, they are a great group of people and I'm so confident that they will do everything they can to keep all the residents safe. They've looked after Mum so well, since she's been there. 

Because Mum has Alzheimers she really has no idea what's going on, what day it is, and when she last saw anyone lol. So she would just be coasting along, in her own little world. I was told that I could face time her, or call anytime, which is great, but......... Even before Mum was diagnosed she was technologically challenged lol. She had bought herself a computer, and would call me to find out why it wouldn't turn on, she wouldn't have clicked the power button, or had unplugged from the wall. She'd forget her password constantly, and lose the paper it was written on lol. She had a pretty good flip phone, but decided she wanted a new one that had larger buttons. Okay, it's easier with the larger buttons. But, she'd have the phone in her bag, and bump it or something, and bam, she'd be calling me, with no idea she had actually made a call. It had a lock on it, to stop that from happening, but she never remembered how to do it (it was a switch, up or down, on the side, easy as lol). She had trouble operating remote controls too, and know this, all of this was way before her diagnosis, it was just her. Not everyone has to get it, so that's okay. 

I've called Mum at the home before, or she's had them call me, it doesn't go well. She will ask me when I'm coming to get her, or when is her Mum and Dad coming. It's like she thinks she doesn't live there, has just been there for a holiday or as if she's been in hospital. And of course her Mum and Dad have been dead for years so they aren't ever going to come lol. She always ends up in tears, or starts the conversation in tears, and is unsettled for days after wards, which doesn't do her any good. There's been times she's been so unsettled she has needed medication to calm her down and I don't want her to be constantly medicated. I figured since I was off work I could give face time a try, I wasn't overly confident but determined. To do this, I had to make an appointment, and she was sitting with a staff member in control of the tablet. It was great to see her, but so frustrating. She didn't get it, kept trying to touch the tablet, which of course might have hung up or minimised or something lol. She also didn't understand why I didn't just pop up for a visit rather than talking to her like this, 'was I sick?' lol. 

I got a text from the home today, they are going to Tier 3, which is you can visit, but have to make an appointment and it has to be office hours Mon - Fri. On top of that, you have to have proof that you've had a flu shot, and they do a temp check (temp check is fine). I haven't had a flu shot, ever, so not sure I want to have one. When they get to Tier 4 it will all be back to normal, I can visit whenever and no checks. I'm not complaining, I want them to ease into it, I want Mum and the others to be safe, it's just frustrating. 

Regardless of how often I tell myself she is fine, they'd tell me if there was a problem, it doesn't ease the worry, the anxiety and the guilt. Sure I shouldn't feel guilty, nothing I can do about Rona, I didn't have anything to do with it's spread. I don't need to worry or feel anxious as I know she's fine, but that doesn't stop me from doing either lol. Mum having Alzheimers has basically taken a grown, independent, capable and intelligent woman, and stripped her down to the basics. I know that despite my worrying, when it's all over and we can resume life after Rona, she probably won't even realise it's been ages since I've seen her, I could tell her I saw her the previous week, and she'd believe me lol. 

Life hasn't been the same for us, since Mum was diagnosed, It's been a roller coaster ride, and this is just another part of it. As the saying goes 'it is what it is'. There is nothing that can be done about it, life will go on and we will get back to normal, or as normal as our lives are. The best thing about the Alzheimers at the moment is the fact that Mum has no clue, I won't have to worry about trying to explain it to her, because she'll forget it in no time. The worst thing is that she forgets stuff all the time, will this go on so long that she'll forget me? 

Catch yas
Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - 2 years later

Because of the gale we had last Sunday, I had to give up on visiting Mum, I tried, but the wind destroyed two umbrellas and I got soaked lol. I love the rain, don't get me wrong, but that was beyond rain lol. 

Weekend before that, when I arrived I went to Mum's room, and couldn't see any of her pictures and her bathroom cupboard had been emptied. I set everything up again, and we enjoyed our coffee and cake. She had no clue who had packed up her room, telling me that there was a man who came into her room and told her they all had to leave. Didn't happen of course, but I presumed she'd done it herself. Anyway, I set it all back up and she marvelled at having a bathroom all to herself. 

Fast forward to today. I get there and first off, she goes,
"Oh I'm saved, my sister is here."

Umm number 1 I'm not her sister lol, and I don't know what she was needing to be saved from, she looked pretty happy sitting at the table doing a jigsaw, but whatever. 

I laughed and replied, "Geez, thanks Mum, I'm your daughter not your sister." 

We all laughed and I turned into her room. Bam, the room is packed up again. 

"Mum, where's all your stuff?"

"I've packed it so it's easier to move."

"Move where."

"Well, I'm going home."

"Your house was sold almost 2 years ago Mum, this is where you live now."

"No, you told me I was going to live with you, or maybe it was Anthony." she pondered.

"Mum, sorry, but this is where you live now. We cannot care for you at home."

"Oh, but I thought I was going to be living with you and your kids."

"My kids are adults, they don't live at home. Sit down, and I'll set your room up again."

"How are your kids?"

"They are fine, Mum. Busy with their own lives."

"But aren't they still at school?"

"They are 35, 33 and 28 Mum, way past school age." I laughed. 

That caused her to have a laughing fit, and exclaim how she didn't remember that, and to ask was I sure. lol. 

Pretty sure I'm right, they were that age when I left home to go see her at least lol. The room set up took a while because she kept taking things out that I was putting away. I seriously need to give her cupboards a clean out, but I spend all my time there, setting her damn room up. Maybe after a few weeks, she'll settle down again. 

"So, tell me, have you seen Mum and Dad lately."

"Grandad died 28 years ago, and I can't remember how long it's been for Nana, but it's been at least 7 years."

"Are you sure? I thought they lived downstairs?"

"I'm positive Mum."

That kept her quiet for a while, either thinking that over, or it might have been the caramel date slice she was munching on lol. 

I get asked if she has regressed further, and yes she has. I was wondering at first if it was because of being moved to a different area, but when she first went into the home, she knew that Nana and Grandad were dead. She knew all her Aunts were dead. Now it's as if they are all still alive, and if it's not the Aunts moving the family up the coast, it's Nana and Grandad walking the halls of a place they've never been. 

Physically, she is still the same, she's old, so she has more aches and pains, but gets around just fine. Mentally, she regresses to pre marriage or pre 1991. When she is in pre marriage faze, she still has kids, so that's pretty damn scandalous, and I tell her so, it's a good laugh. Pre 1991, my son was born that year, her Dad died that year. And yet, my son is at school with his sisters, and her Dad is still alive. 

While she gets puzzled over the truth that I tell her, we can still have a good laugh over it. I have no doubt that when I go up next Sunday, she'll have packed up all her photos again, and again, I'll be unpacking them all, and having to explain that she lives there now. It's exhausting, seriously exhausting, both physically and mentally. I won't stop though. There will come a day when she won't recognise me for real, not just a silly slip of the tongue. So as long as she does, I'll treasure every moment, even if I'm unpacking her shit for the rest of my life lol. 

There is a few things missing that I didn't find, she had 4 toothbrushes before (yes that's way over the top, but she had them), she now has none. The TV remote has also disappeared, which of course means someone must of stolen it. I'm hoping when I can get into her drawers more, without being in there to unpack everything, it will turn up lol. 

Catch yas
Cathy

Life in the Twilight Zone - Deja Vu

Visiting Mum today, I couldn't help but feel like I'd been there before. Not in the Nursing Home, cause obviously I've been there before lol, but with the conversation. Sure there is a lot of repeating, she has Alzheimers so that goes with the territory, but today it was like a flash back to when she first moved in, 2 years ago. 

Because she has only just been moved into her new room, it was a bit of a mess, books and magazines everywhere, so I decided last Sunday that today I would get it cleaned up. She loves to colour in, so she has completed pictures as well as a lot of uncompleted. And believe me, when I say a lot, I mean a lot. She has 2 chests of drawers, a bedside chest and a hospital table, and they were all covered, and she had some filled drawers as well. All her framed photos were shoved behind more papers, so I wanted to clear it all out. 

She'd also managed to collect books. She'd obviously gotten them from the bookshelves in the lounge areas and taken them back to read, but they just sat there, unread lol. She talked today about getting a bookshelf, and I had a flash back to cleaning out her house and it's 1,000's of books. Sure you can give some to charity, but a lot of places won't take them now, and while we sold a shit load at the garage sale, I was tasked with getting rid of all those that were left. It's not a pleasant memory, and not one I want to relive. So no, she won't be getting a bookshelf. I pointed out that right outside her room in the lounge area is a couple of bookshelves filled with books for her to read, so she seemed satisfied with that. 

Now, deja vu. First thing she said,

"Oh Cathy, I haven't seen anyone for the longest time, have you seen Mum and Dad?"

"I saw you last week Mum, Nana and Eddie (grandad) have been dead for years."

"Oh, are you sure, because I think someone said they are living here."

"I'm sure Mum, I went to their funerals."

That, in my memory, is the same convo we had when she first moved into the Nursing Home. But wait there's more.

"One of the nurses was saying that they think I'll be able to go back home soon."

"This is your home, Mum. You live here now."

"Well yes, I know, but that's what they said."

"You've been living here for 2 years Mum, we sold your house, so this is now your home."

"Well someone said something about me being allowed to go and live with you."

"No Mum, that is not happening. If I was able to care for you at home, then I would of moved into your house."

"Oh, well that's okay then. They just mentioned it."

Again, almost word for word the same convo we had 2 years ago, when she first moved in. On one hand she knows it's a Nursing Home, and people live there, and on the other, she thinks of it as a respite or hospital and people come and go. She talks about how so and so went home, or someone else has gone off to live with family. In most cases, these people have either died, or just been moved to a different section lol. 

We also have convos where she seems perfectly normal. Was talking about my daughter who has separated, going to see her lawyer, and she discussed how she thought my daughters husband was so nice, and such a different person to the person he has turned out to be. A perfectly normal conversation, and she listened to what I was saying, and didn't go off on a tangent. I loved it. Of course it didn't last, but to have that normal convo with her, meant the world to me for as long as it lasted. 

Back in her room, she was surprised with how much stuff she had, and again mentioned the book case, that she isn't getting lol. She kept saying that she didn't understand how she had managed to get so much and not throw anything out. For those of you that know Mum, you would know the look I gave her right then. For those of you who don't know her, Mum was a pack rat. She stored rubber bands, plastic bags, glass jars, wrapping paper, Xmas cards, birthday cards, Sympathy cards, Congratulation cards lol. Her study was a walking newsagents lol. Now some of you may say, nothing wrong with the wrapping paper and cards, and you'd be right, to a certain extent. She would buy these cards and wrapping paper, and never use them. That was the problem. She'd forget she already had them, and go and buy new ones. I even found cards that had been written in. Even found some money in one lol. Gift bags was another thing she loved. I have most of them in my cupboard, and I've used a few of them, but I'm not sure I'll ever go through them all. None of the rubber bands she had saved was intact, the glass jars weren't even properly cleaned, shudder.

I've mentioned previously, the number of bags of clothes etc, that we donated when we moved her out. She has almost just as many clothes now as she had then. Her little 2 door wardrobe and drawers, are filled to bursting with clothes she doesn't wear, and in most cases, doesn't even fit her because she has bought them from the home op shop and not even looked at sizes. That will be the next clean out, I'll have to take more bags with me, for that one. Please don't think I will leave her with nothing, she will still have all she needs, she is just addicted to shopping, and thank goodness the little op shop is cheap, and she can afford to buy something now and then. 

Before I left, we'd repeated the convo regarding her Mum and Dad, 5 times. The only thing that was okay about it, was the fact she accepted it and didn't get all upset as if she'd just lost them lol. 

When all is said and done, life is what it is. Mum will get worse and worse, the stress will always be with me, I'll be cleaning her room out every time I go to see her, because you can bet that next week, she will have books and papers everywhere again, and have no clue how they all got there. But no matter what, I will do for her, what she did for me. 

Catch yas
Cathy