Diario de Snowwhite100

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12 octubre 2022

It's been 42 days since I have reported and I did lose 3 lbs in that time but my goodness that's slow. I have to eat very little to lose since I can hardly walk or exercise. It's been 2 ½ months since I've been struggling with this severe sciatica pain in my leg from my bad back. It just doesn't want to hold me and in fact it did give out on me coming down the stairs and if I hadn't been holding on tight I would have taken a flying leap to the bottom. I have to go up and down with my other foot leading one step at a time and sometimes I come down sideways holding on with both hands. My husband has some trouble walking also and his office and computer are upstairs and when he yells to me to come up to help him with the computer, how to spell a word, or even to help him with his TV from his TV room, etc. he gets so frustrated that he can't hear me answer and it takes me so long to get up and start walking that by the time I get to the bottom of the stairs, or to his TV room he is fuming mad/furious. I don't think his legs are as painful as mine (not sciatica) since he will go for a walk to the end of the block 2 or 3 times but he is so used to me running to cater to him, he doesn't seem able to change or doesn't want to change or forgets. Frankly, I dare not “completely” cater to him or it would be so dangerous I couldn't live here and our marriage would be over. With a restraining order, we couldn't see each other, and if I have to leave he will throw my things away. He can't live on his own. Even walking away from him proved very dangerous in the past. Yes, I am living on pins and needles, and I have no idea from day to day what is coming, but of course, it will change eventually. He is not ready for a home of some type and we don't qualify for Medi-Caid anyway. It has been that same 2 ½ months of sciatica that I have been sleeping on the couch because he locked me out of the bedroom (and the house) and poured 5 glasses of water on me and our wood floors, and said it is going to get a lot worse. He also said he could cut off my legs and logically I know that's remote but it still sticks in my mind. Since he closed our joint accounts and put everything in his name only I'm charging most things. I paid August's bills as he demanded and he paid September. Although he said I would have to pay every other month he has paid a couple of bills recently. He had said my social security check of $470. a month was the same as his retirement pension but for now, he seems to understand a hundred is not the same as a thousand and is willing to sign his checks for household bills. Even on the couch, I am glad to have a warm, dry place to sleep, unlike many people in this world, and I have some cash to pay the guy that cuts the grass. He is being nicer most of the time but still threatens me. If you had a disabled child you would do what you could to take care of them. I have an 86-year-old disabled husband with many physical problems and memory loss. He almost went into the hospital again Wednesday morning and by Friday the doctor said he still had crackles in his lungs. He won't let me monitor his medication and he wasn't taking enough diuretic to get rid of excess water. He was playing loosy-goosey with it and his lungs and heart aren't strong enough to pump the water out. I live day to day doing what I can. At 80 I can't make a new life for myself away from here. We have been married for 61 years and lived in this comfortable house for 51 years. My computer that I do taxes on had a nervous breakdown or fried and it's at the shop for them to copy the hard drive for me. I'm going through papers looking for the Turbo Tax original disk for 2020 and in the process throwing out 90% of the papers I go through. For the last few weeks, I have been sewing because he threw a lot of clothes and papers out of the attic when he wanted to work on our old TV and internet cable. He wants a second TV cable in the living room so that when he needs a bed downstairs in the future he can have his own TV on the other end of the living room with a bed. He still drives when he is not dizzy, is weeding in the yard, and repaired my washing machine this week. I can finally wear nearly half of my old clothes now, so am taking out and putting in seams plus giving some things away. For 5 weeks I took jewelry to church to share with the gals there. I have 5 different places I am giving clothes to and even today after my chiropractor appointment am going to take a robe and warm pants to the gal I take groceries to, and pick up 3 items to shorten for her. Altering the thrift store clothes from Goodwill has been my “outlet” for years for creativity and doing something for me, so sewing became my hobby. I have way too many clothes but regularly wear from size 2 to 12 as I go up and down 25 to 30 lbs. Just call me yo-yo.

Peso:	Disminuído hasta ahora:	Aún para ir:	Dieta seguida:
54,9 kg	0 kg	3,6 kg	Bien

(4 comentarios) Perdiendo 0,3 kg a la Semana

02 septiembre 2022

I am going to interrupt my musings about the inheritance I received 52 years ago that my husband immediately took out of my name and put in an account with only his name so I couldn't touch it. Getting involved with organizing a little of my jewelry led me to tear into it completely and organize all of it differently. It actually has always been extremely organized and color-coded but has gone through a couple of different locations. Even my jewelry at our little cabin has the same system of wire shelving hung flat up and down the wall behind the hanging clothing so I could hang everything and see it all, as long as I didn't have too many clothes hanging in front of it. I was already in the process of taking the jewelry down and putting it in throw-away plastic boxes but was finding that if I really wanted to separate it by color it was taking too many boxes that take up too much space. Years ago I twice had a clothing and costume jewelry business doing fundraising for women's organizations. Being 80 years old I have had more time to accumulate jewelry than most, plus I always was a garage sale and thrift store shopper calling myself: Second Hand Rose. Between all the jewelry I acquired from my businesses, gifts, garage, and thrift sales there were two other large acquisitions. A couple of years ago the gal across the street was selling a lot of jewelry for $1.00 each and there were many necklace and earring sets in packaging that had never been opened. What fun! I picked out 70 pieces which included many of the new sets. They filled 2 plastic grocery bags but she didn't charge me $70.00 but only wanted $15.00. The other acquisition was from our daughter's garage sale after her mother-in-law died. I didn't get there early enough to look at the fine jewelry but I did pick out $200. worth from the costume jewelry that was left. Our daughter graciously did not let me pay for it in the end, but that kind of backfired in that there were other things I wanted to buy, as she was streamlining her house before putting it up for sale, that I was not allowed to buy. She said they couldn't take money from me. It's always been hard for me to understand the concept that I wasn't allowed to benefit by buying something I would love to have, like her fountain that other people she didn't even know, got to buy for practically nothing. Strangers were allowed to have things for pennies on the dollar that I desperately wanted to buy and she refused to sell to me. When my sister died the same thing happened to me with my nephews. They made a list of the things I wanted to buy but then told me my daughter told them not to let me have anything. She believes I have too much already and the sentimental nature of things that had belonged to our parents didn't sway her. The day they let me come look and take what I wanted it did not go well. My husband and I only had my car and I filled the back about half full. My sister had always told me that I should take this and that after she died but they said they could not find her list. She assumed they would not want any of her things and that was true but they wanted to sell things to raise money to repair the house. I kept asking them to just set a price so I could decide whether to buy it or not. My one nephew I was dealing with (to whom she did not leave anything) was the one that had lived with me for a summer when 11 when his mother gave him away. My husband would not let me keep him as I wanted, but I was always the closest to him since his mother rejected him. He is a millionaire with many rental properties and convinced his brother (that the house was left to) that going together to repair and then rent the house was a good idea. I must have said to that brother (son) a hundred times I wanted to pay for whatever I took. When he didn't let me pay for any of the things filling my car up halfway I thought it was because he had way, way more money than I do. I'm not even sure his wife knew that the list she was making that day was a “to purchase” list since I was talking to him mainly. The son that the house was left to never said anything negative to me but his wife kept repeating to me that day that I took “everything” in the house. My sister had a 4 bedroom house with an extra room off the kitchen and a full gazebo, was a hoarder, had years and years of things she had painted all over the house, and had four truckloads of painting supplies. One bedroom and the garage were so full you couldn't have put a pillow in them. But my half of a car load was “everything” in the house. My sister never expected her son whom I was close to, to show up at the house after she died since they were estranged and she didn't even leave him a penny. She knew her son that she left the house to wouldn't want anything inside because he had moved from a 3,444 square-foot gorgeous house in Arizona to a small 1,435 square-foot house in California and their two grown sons still live with them. She would not have imagined in a million years that the estranged son would come to help his brother clean out the house then talk him into going together to repair, then rent the house. The son that received the house probably would have only received about $100,000. from the house after the reverse mortgage was paid, but he is trying to buy a trucking company from his brother, is 63 years old, and has had 2 heart attacks and at least 1 stint from working so hard driving a truck full time plus running the company. After a $40,000. roof, tenting the house because it was all eaten up by termites, and a multitude of other repairs, I can't imagine how long it will be till the rent pays off the money for the repairs, then he starts getting half the profit, let alone get to the $100.000.00 he would have gotten if he had just sold it when my sister died as she had intended. It's even surprising I was dealing with the wealthy son that did not receive anything from her. The wealthy wife said I had taken the “best” things in my half-full car. They live in 3 residences. The main one is a million and a half dollar, almost 4,000 square foot house with 5 bedrooms and 5 baths. The second is a 2,168 square foot 4 bedroom, 3 bath house, on over a quarter acre in the ski area east of Los Angeles across the street from Tommy Lasorda, worth over $900.000. The third is in Lake Havasu. My sister was an 83-year-old living on a small Social Security check but had no “security”. They just wanted to sell the things but not to sell them to me after my daughter told them not to let me have any of it so she wouldn't have to deal with any more stuff after I died. She keeps bugging me to get rid of “stuff”, and now her cousin, the son I “was” the closest to, is angry at me for burdening her when I die. He told me so that day I was there to pick up some things of my sisters, but now he doesn't speak to me. They were so disparaging to me that day that I took back more than half of the things comprising my half-car full. They showed my “desire to purchase” list to my daughter and she thinks I am just terrible for desiring so many things that my sister had originally told me to just take. So much for dysfunctional family relationships. I even took back most of the costume jewelry I had picked out from my sister. I hadn't taken even 2% of what she had. The two sons never mentioned to me anything on that "desire to purchase" list. They just sold what they could in their 2-day sale, and gave away to the thrift store or threw away the rest. Now I have my costume jewelry in 5 color-coded Ziploc bags. Snack bags for earrings and necklaces that would tangle, put into sandwich bags with their matching colors. One bag has white, creme, and pearl, one has red, pink, orange, and yellow, one has browns, and one blues. The final one has too much in shades of turquoise that I may whittle down. I have some I will take to church Sunday to give away. They will not take up as much room, and I can put them in one of the cardboard boxes I use to keep my shoes in, under my hanging clothes in my closet, so when I die my daughter can just pick up the Ziploc bags to give or throw away, or they will even be easy for a burglar to carry out. Isn't that and taking care of my husband, the goal of my life?

(3 comentarios)

31 agosto 2022

Yesterday and today's project is organizing jewelry that was on the bedroom dresser. My husband put it on my side of the bed (that I am not using since he locked me out) and told me to clean off the bed. I gave away clothes at church last week, which the pastor's wife took most. This week I gave her a jacket that I had spent hours tailoring. She wadded it up.
I'm reminiscing about when I at age 28 took care of my dear mother for 7 months in our home while she (at age 63) was dying of cancer, the inheritance I received, and how much it would be in today's money. My father had died four years earlier at age 65. She didn't want to go into a nursing home because she said they would just drug her out and that would be like already being dead and/or leaving her wet in bed. They do that. She wanted to be awake to pray for healing. The worse part of it was watching the pain she was in. I learned to give her shots of Morphine but most of them either didn't take effect or only lasted 10 to 20 minutes. As the hours rolled by and she was begging for more, I never knew how early I dare give it, to not overdose and accidentally kill her. The doctor said not to worry, and that he would sign the death certificate with no problems. Still, I didn't want to be the one ending her life since she wanted so badly to live. The 2nd worse thing was when two ladies came and told her she wasn't healed because of sin in her life. She racked her brain for weeks, it was horrible. That is such a cruel thing to do to someone dying. That was NOT from my God of love! I do believe in the miracle of supernatural healing but we are mortal beings living in a fallen world of death and destruction, so we all die eventually. She finally asked me to fast for her. I did till I was falling apart so then I felt like a failure. I cooked her 3 hot meals a day of anything she said appealed to her plus the warm coffee cake she liked, but the death certificate said in fancy words that she starved to death. She couldn't keep anything down. I wonder now if she was allergic to Morphine because that is what happened to me in the hospital a couple of years ago. The two things she said were that the survival instinct is stronger than we know or realize, and to always be grateful you can eat. I gained a lot of weight trying to feed her. Being 28 years old with 2 small children it was more than a full-time job. She became like my child, as I sat on the end of her bed hour after hour rubbing her cold feet. I didn't know I could push my body that hard to stay awake and live on so little sleep. The last couple of months I never went to bed, I just fell asleep an hour at a time sitting at the end of her bed with her feet in my lap. She didn't want me to leave her even to mop my kitchen floor. Fortunately, she died peacefully in my arms rather than like the dire warnings of my doctor brother-in-law. I was so physically exhausted by the time she died it took me a year to recover.
She left my sister and me $20,000.00 each when she died in 1970. I was surprised that they had that much under the circumstances, knowing how desperately hard they had worked and sacrificed. My dad had been disabled during what would have been his most productive working years from a stroke and a terrible car accident. Although he had little education he was smart as a whip and put all the cockpit instruments in Eisenhower's Presidential Airplane at Lockheed himself. Living through the depression they were “extremely” frugal. They had “roomers” living upstairs and over the garage and she used to make their beds and tidy their rooms every day and vacuum, dust, and wash their sheets and towels every week in an old washing machine with a wringer. She was always worried that it would eat my arm when I helped her. In her whole life, she never had a better machine and hung all those sheets for us and the borders or roomers outside on our many clotheslines. And she was so diligent to wash them all every week. I have a washer and dryer (used) and I don't always get it done that often. I remember so well her washing her nylon ruffled curtains and putting them on big frames made just the right size, with little nails all the way around to stretch those beautiful sheer curtains. I bet not many of you ever saw those frames. And she beat the rugs outside. Now imagine this, in their first little house in California, the bedrooms were upstairs but they had to rent them all out (plus more over the garage) because my father was off work for a year before I was five, with his bad back (it runs in the family). In alternate years her mother lived with us, so the three adults and we two children lived downstairs with no bedroom. We all slept in the dining room. The bathroom was upstairs so someone built a little lean-to bath downstairs on the back of the house. We moved to a bigger house when I was five but we still had roomers which made a lot of extra work for her since she took care of them like motel's did. They had no kitchen privileges so expectations were different then. She was the president of the women's society at church when I was seven to eleven, and busy with all the members and activities. My dad said the phone must have been growing to her ear. She never drove a car, but started working as a salesgirl at Bullock's (which became Macy's in 1995) when I was eleven, and took the bus five days a week, then six days during Christmas Holiday shopping the whole month of December. One day a week, on her day off she cleaned someone else's house, taking two buses. During the Holidays that meant she worked, standing on her feet, seven days a week. I've only known two other women in my life that worked as hard as she did.
She was “Pennsylvania Dutch” and her mother (the one that lived with us alternate years) came west in a covered wagon at six years of age. My mother made many of my dresses and even my dancing costumes until she started working outside the home. I danced on stage in theaters between shows, from four years old till about seven. Here again, she took us on the bus, plus to all of our doctor and dentist appointments. She was in the “better” jewelry section at Bullock's so had to dress up fancy every day. That is probably partly where I got used to the idea of dressing nicely. That and the actress paper dolls I played with and all their ballgowns (with no other clothes) every day after school because I was all alone. She even kept working at Bullock's after my father died, taking the bus, with her cancer till she couldn't stand anymore. I will finish this in a day or two with “Part 2 ”. That $20,000.00 she left me in 1970 when she died represented my parents working like dogs and skimping and saving for a lifetime. I put it in a joint bank account with my husband but he closed it quite soon, took it all, and put it in an account with only his name on it that did not have my signature so I couldn't touch it, and I never saw it again. He might have it today for all I know, but I don't think so. Just to give you an idea of what that money represented to her and to me 52 years ago, I looked it up on Google which said: “$20,000 in 1970 is equivalent in purchasing power to about $152,719.59 today, an increase of $132,719.59 over 52 years. The dollar had an average inflation rate of 3.99% per year between 1970 and today, producing a cumulative price increase of 663.60%.”

Peso:	Disminuído hasta ahora:	Aún para ir:	Dieta seguida:
56,4 kg	0 kg	5,2 kg	Bien

(1 comentario) Perdiendo 2,5 kg a la Semana

29 agosto 2022

These last couple of weeks have been hard even though it has been quieter here. If you don't like blow-by-blow don't bother reading this. It's just my own silly journal anyway. My husband's health seemed to be deteriorating a couple of weeks ago and he was needing to go on oxygen more and more during the day, not only at night. His time out of bed and on oxygen became shorter and shorter, with him finally going back to bed only an hour after getting up. His hearing became worse and worse until finally, he lost all hearing in his left ear. It took him a week to get an appointment with his Audiologist who finally said it was a profound sudden acute hearing loss and he may have had an ear stroke, and to get an appointment with an Ear, Nose, and Throat Specialist immediately and it was a slight possibility a Prednisone shot might help. He also said there was no wax in the ear causing this.
I looked up ear strokes on Google plus wanting to know how to spell the medication he is taking for the burning in his stomach and found out it is so harsh with terrible side effects that we both wondered if it could be causing the things he was experiencing going downhill, including and/or the possibility that maybe he has had another small stroke. Maybe he was even allergic to that medication. He came to the point of saying he was miserable physically. He stopped taking that medication and started getting better within a few days but his stomach burns without it. His health is very complicated. He also stopped half of his diuretic and that is what landed him in the hospital 3 months ago. Since he will not let me monitor his medication, he lives on a “physical health” roller-coaster. We messaged his Gastroenterologist for advice and a new medication for his burning stomach but he still hasn't gotten a reply. I helped him send a new message today.

His ENT doctor insisted on speaking to the Audiologist so it took several days to get in on an emergency basis. Come to find out the ear was impacted with wax so it was not a nerve problem as the Audiologist thought. I have become a taxi driver taking him to appointment after appointment, picking up other prescriptions, and taking him shopping. Thank you, Lord I can do it. The ENT ordered an MRI of his brain and a referral to a Neurologist. He doesn't realize how much he needs a caretaker and there is no other home in the world that would give him the personalized attention he needs. His kidney doctor last week said Radiology would only target his hearing centers on an MRI from an ENT, not his whole brain so I am going to have to contact his Primary doctor to revise the order for the MRI. Or maybe I will wait for an appointment with a Neurologist hoping I can learn more about what's happening to his brain. He is not exhibiting much in the way of symptoms of a stroke however he didn't even know about his last one. He was very erratic a month ago locking me out, pouring water on me, and saying it will get much worse, and to leave our home. After he took my name off of all our savings, both our daughter and I were wrong, thinking at least he was going to cover our household expenses. He paid our house and car insurance for 6 months then demanded I pay this month's household expenses. I have 2 small accounts and have just about exhausted one of them with August bills, and one more cycle will nearly wipe out the 2nd one after I get my only source of income, $470. a month from Social Security. He did compliment me twice. The first time he thanked me for helping him so much on the computer and telephone for appointments and saying I had always been there for him. Then driving to one of his doctor appointments he said he was so very fortunate to have me take him all over town to his many doctors. I can quickly count 7 different locations around this large city where I take him for his many doctor appointments with UCLA. They all say his health is “very” complicated.

I'm not ready to start a fight about our savings since I don't think it is safe. He is too erratic at this time. Adult Protective Services was here because we were reported, and said don't move out of the house unless he does something physical to me. I am still sleeping on the couch since he locked me out of our bedroom so obviously doesn't want me there. It's better than what I thought I would be doing since he was so adamant that he wants me out: living in my car. Of course, he is wrong when he says the house is his, after 61 years of marriage. But his health and mind are slipping, and I am still trying to take care of my 86-year-old disabled but still strong husband. It is quiet and sad here mostly as long as I do everything he asks. I have a key for the new bottom lock but not for the top deadbolt. He says he may lock me out. Plus he says if I do anything wrong he can pour water over me. I live day by day, sometimes hour by hour. Sometimes I can walk with less pain, but it's been 6 weeks that sciatica in my leg from my back problems has been screaming at me. Because of it, I cannot sleep on my side at all for that 6 weeks which was always the way I slept because of my back pain. Sleeping is a problem, but I am averaging more, maybe 5 to 6 hours whereas the tumultuous 2 weeks before that was about 3 to 4 hours. My husband calls to me “are you awake?” This week I am dehydrating mushrooms, broccoli, and figs. Last week I dehydrated 9 trays of figs. I am working on eliminating the clothing on the clothing rack in my hallway that has sewing projects on it. I sew some, have about 4 or more places to give some, and I even put 5 in the trash, although that was the toughest. Sewing has always been my hobby. I made all our drapes and did upholstery. My dining room drapes are terrible now but it just kills my back to work on them. This is day 130 with only 1 dessert and wine; and day 38 for no regular bread at home. I am finally losing weight but I think the depression I fight may have something to do with it. After 6 months I tried to give him a little hug, but he just pushed me away.

Peso:	Disminuído hasta ahora:	Aún para ir:	Dieta seguida:
57,2 kg	0 kg	5,9 kg	Bien

(9 comentarios) Perdiendo 0,5 kg a la Semana

12 agosto 2022

Today was the final day scheduled for Protective Services to come out and someone did show up. He said my case worker is sick so (as a social worker) they sent him to conduct the home interview. My husband was lying down in bed on oxygen so I asked the man if we could speak privately, so I could give him our history without my husband being there which I had been very apprehensive about, not wanting to inflame my husband's anger. As I explained the last 55 years he remarked that I should stop making excuses for my husband. I told him I can't, but it was gratifying that he was “hearing” me and accepting what I said about our life together. Then he said something about thinking about and doing for myself. I told him it is too late for me (at almost 81) to go out and make a new life for myself. I was very open and told him examples of what has gone on through the years and he said my husband needs to have a neurological evaluation but I told him I didn't think he would do it. This is beginning to sound like my negativity was coming out. I was just being honest, open, and frank. He said I didn't have to answer such a personal question but asked how much income I have: $500. a month. He advised me to not leave my home and to call the police if my husband does anything physical to me including pouring water on me or locking me out of the house. I took him around the house to see my mess because our daughter keeps saying I am abusing my husband with my hoarding mess just as much as he is abusing me. He said no that is not true. Downstairs is just emergency food storage, and he said this is “nothing”. Yeah. I also took him upstairs to see all the worst of what I have and wanted to ask him for his description of it but that fell to the wayside as he needed to leave. Still upstairs he asked me if he could speak to my husband privately. I heard him say to my husband “yes, that I had shown him all the rooms". After finishing he came downstairs and said he could not communicate with my husband. Then my husband called him back upstairs and showed him inside the attic. Leaving, I asked him “What about the money?” and he said my case worker would call me Monday or Tuesday.

As soon as the social worker left I asked my husband if the man explained what he advised me to do. I explained about me not leaving our home, and calling the police if there was anything physical, plus if he locks me out of the house. He said I could call the Fire Department too. He added he “may” lock me out, and if I do something wrong he can pour water on me. The thing accomplished today is me believing I am to stay put until or unless there is a change so I don't have to be thinking about where I am going to go. And because of the social worker's statements that in calling the police they won't do anything, I find myself for the first time in my life feeling willing to do it. Our daughter said if I ever did I would pay dearly for it (from my husband). I am against involving authority in this day and age but I think I am going to have to. That is very sad and I don't think our daughter would accept it or me. But since things are escalating already and he is threatening me, I'm slowly changing. I'm a slow learner and I've been dedicated to taking care of him for so many years and I've so wanted to finish my course with honor. But he is changing. Bottom line, I'll still sleep on the couch: since he locked me out of the bedroom I'm not comfortable going back to his bed. The positive is I don't have to stay up late to water the flowers and vegetable beds in the middle of the night. I don't have to rack my brain about where can I go stay or how can I set up my car for sleeping in, or how I can move boxes of food to our cabin in a car set up for camping. For today, just today the pressure of making plans is taken off of me. Of course any day he may and probably will do something that now I am willing to call the police about and I may need to run for safety. But I can believe I am supposed to trust in the Lord for protection for today and stop worrying about where to go. I can sleep on the couch and hope to get more than the 2 to 4 hours of sleep I have been getting. I can water and do laundry during the day and not worry about getting locked out. If I do, I will take the next step, which I believe is part of what has to happen in this saga of a deteriorating spouse (there are so many) and I can trust the Lord he will carry me through. For tonight, just for tonight, I am “home” in my heart. I'm sorry my husband and our daughter will not and can not understand. Some of you that have been praying, will understand. My peace today was hard won by you and your prayers, and I thank you for that. I'm sorry I am your weak retarded Christian sister, but I'm so glad that I am somebody's sister. Thank you, Lord.

(15 comentarios)

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