Wheelie A Mess

A beautiful day with a slight breeze and no rain on the radar.  Mel asked to go to the foreshore after church.  'Why not', we all need a break from the house.
We chuckled when we realised it was a 'children's event',  Mel wasn't interested in making a paper flower or painting a wooden toy.  We enjoyed the sunshine and the crowds weaving in and out of flocks of people and stopping regularly to ensure the kiddies weren't bowled over.  They often just stop without warning and look around at whatever takes their interest!
Fortunately we found disability parking with little effort and returned to our car.
I wheeled Merv up to the car and put on the brakes but only one would work.  The other brake just wouldn't come to the party.  I helped Merv into the car and played around with the mischievous brake to no avail.
This is the same brake which has not worked on two previous occasions.  I had taken it into the local mobility centre to have it fixed but it refuses to stay fixed.  Merv's wheelchair is his legs and his balance, without it he is going nowhere.
I have a long list of expletives which I use during such times, much to the horror of daughter and husband I used them all on this occasion (In the car not in front of little ones) and more than once.
I took photos of the brake and wheel then I climbed my long ladder to prise nails from the top of my pergola (It will be painted on Tuesday, just getting it ready).
I made coffee and read yesterdays paper.  I noted an article on 60 year olds.  It stated more women over 60 are having heart attacks from too much life stress!  I flicked the page and wrote a long wailing email to Merv's Occupational Therapist and the nice bloke who serviced Merv's wheelchair only two months ago.  I included my wheel/brake photos.
It's Sunday and I didn't expect a reply until Monday, therefore I was surprised to receive an email back a few minutes later.  The man who serviced Merv's chair is coming down (an hour from Perth) to fix it Tuesday morning. Yes I will tell him to replace the brake and not just fix it.

Virtues of My Job

I wonder what people think of carers sometimes.  Do we have it easy or do we have it hard?  In many ways it is a bit and a lot of both.
Most of us have done it in the past.  Stayed in a job you didn't really enjoy.  We stay because it is a job.  I remember staying on a teacher's assistant because my long service leave was due the following year and I didn't want to miss out on it.  I decided I deserved it.  Maybe; maybe not.
Maybe coming out of the winter weather and into a brighter Spring will change me.  I love Merv and willingly care for him while I am able.  I'm just in a bit of a rut.  It's more difficult to get out and about with the limitations of the wheelchair.  If the world was flat it would be an easier place to conquer!
As a carer I should be prepared for anything and fit enough to do it.  Since moving over seven months ago I've put on five kilos, not a huge amount but I don't seem to be able to shake it off.
I tried before my big 60th to trim down to no avail.  I'm trying now but the excess just sits around with me making lewd jokes and swearing never to leave me!  If only.
I've tried cutting back, cutting out and even persevered with those damn shakes.  Nothing is working.
Today I worked for an hour in the garden and enjoyed a brisk hour walk with Mel by the estuary.  Alas By the end of the day  I still reach for a glass of red and some tasty cheese.  Definitely my un-doing.
I'm a sucker for any fad diet.  Write a book, design a funky or totally ridiculous eating plan and I promise I'll buy your book.  I might even give it a try after reading the virtues and testimonies inside.
A friend of mine recently told me how her son and his family are having fabulous results on the Primal Diet by Mark Sisson.  She explained how Joe had gone from 84kgs to 75kgs.  Eagerly she added they were all feeling so well and sleeping like babies.  Then to make it even more convincing she added they had stayed for a week or two and enjoyed the food and were also feeling great.
Google showed me all of Mark's books and where I could buy them from.  My local bookshop person said they would have to get them from the US.  Hmmmm I said.
Then it happened,  I closed my iPad shutting Google down.  I don't need another diet wonder book or lose weight plan at this time in my life.  I just need to look after me and my family (and maybe drink a little less red wine!)

Form it to Me

The garden is ready for the landscaper to come in.  We've dug up all the grass, cut down the fruit tree growing too close to the new paving.  Then we  dug out the root bound stump, closed off the reticulation and then dug up the pipes no longer in the right place.  I worked from morning to evening.  I wasn't just dirty, I was filthy from head to toe!
The guy on the phone was impressed when he explained the landscaper was running a day late.  I told him only two years ago I walked across England with my sisters!
Why have I spent the last week working so hard? The answer is simple.  Physical work and a garden plan stopped me from ripping open the Centrelink forms and getting a little bit closer to putting Merv into permanent residential care.
There's no getting away from it.  It not just about the forms and the bureaucracy, its about emotions, about love, about commitment and those damn marriage vows!
This evening when there were no more digging, raking or weeding to do I ripped open that form.  Not just one but two posing as just one!  I read, I read and read again.
I'm not a stupid person but what was all that stuff at the end? The bit about if you have authority to sign for the person, you can't sign the bit at the very end but then it turned on itself.  Oh if I wasn't confused I certainly was now.
I googled and I googled  a bit more, then I put the forms down and pretended I hadn't even opened them.  I poured myself another glass of red and enjoyed it with a chocolate bar I had been hiding behind the tomato sauce bottle.

To Wake or to Party

Life continues to roll on at a thunderous pace.  I'm trying to concentrate on only one thing at a time but my head is a muddle of everything going on.
Among the muddle is reality.  Reality that Merv's health will and does continue to deteriorate.
Where my eyes were covered with blinkers the light of reality allows me to think clearly.  I've been to Centrelink, I've had a tour of at least two care facilities in the area.  Nothing will go ahead until I have the Centrelink forms filled in and returned.  They sit idle in the bottom of some random bag.  I dread filling them out, not because they are tiresome or time consuming but they take me a step closer to Merv going into full time care.  I am like the first time diver bouncing on my toes at the end of the high board.  I say to myself, 'take your time, the forms will wait.....maybe tomorrow I will hunt them down and face them head on.'
Today Merv and I updated our wills.  The last time we did this was in 2004.  A lot has changed in this time, including buying our new house.
With this under way the next step is to prepay Merv's funeral plan.  There are a half a dozen funeral businesses close by.  They range from relativity well priced to ridiculous!  They are offering  the same thing, just different prices.
Reaching sixty usually means a person has attended a whole heap of weddings and probably more funerals.  They usually follow a similar pattern.  Except for one,  A couple of years ago I attended a 'Celebration of Ian's Life.'  It was held in a community centre.  It was't a funeral though we congregated together to reminisce and celebrate the life of a dear friend.  There was no coffin, no church leader or celebrant.  No singing.
People sat around tables chatting and helping themselves to wine, beer and morning tea,  Ian was a big fan of cheesecake and most things sweet.  The food he had enjoyed was served by trained staff.  His widow wore a summery floral dress.  She chatted and laughed with guests,  This was no funeral.
His brother and a good friend stood and shared their stories of Ian.   We all felt that Ian was right there enjoying the atmosphere and banter.
I left a card.  I choose a blank card and penned a personal message to his widow.  Her husband died from a stroke, but he also had Huntington's Disease.
Today as I remembered that delightful morning I wondered if Merv would be happier with a celebration of his life with friends and family enjoying  morning tea rather than the sombre funeral service in a chapel.
Next week I'll ask him!