First, the progress!
Grandpa actually got out of bed today and sat in a chair! If that's not enough, he also ate two boiled eggs for breakfast...(I have no idea what else he's had today--there have been no phone calls.) Now, we still don't know if the blockage is gone, but I do know that they removed the vacuum tube from his stomach (it went through his nose.) What I also know is that his stomach was soft yesterday as opposed to the more resistant feel that it had on Sunday. Apparently the food did not make him nauseous, which is good :)
The Dilapidation: A True Story written by Nate Rekrap*
It really all started last winter, when Miss R. was given a green horse to train. I found this extremely amusing as the little woman had been on a four-legged animal only enough times to count on her fingers. However, to shorten the lengthy tale, I shall obligingly cut to the chase.
Recently Matt, the wonderful professional horse trainer who has done Miss R. more good than anyone in her journey through horse training, showed our heroine how to get her horse to lower his head. (The reason Master Snip needs to bow his head is simply a matter of getting the bit into his stubborn mouth.)
When she arrived at the place to ride her horse, Miss R. immediately set to work getting the bit into Snip's mouth. (Forgive me, I forgot to mention the friendly bay steed came galloping down to meet her--I believe he thought it was supper-time...)
The technique: "First off, you have to put one hand on top of his head (in this case the left) and then grab ahold of his nose with the other one. With the left hand, put some pressure on his head. Pushing does better for me than digging into him with my nails. Once he gives, relax. Horses learn best through a reward system and releasing pressure is a reward. Next, once you get his head low enough, kinda rub him and then attempt to slide the head-stall up (I carry it on my right arm at all times). This may take a couple of trys. Eventually, I manage to get the head-stall held in my left hand and the bit directly under his mouth. This is the fun part...I give the bridle a tug with the left hand and try to guide the bit into his mouth and hold his head to me all at the same time--he'll throw his head--a bad habit. The bit will get in his mouth after awhile, just keep at it."
Ah, yes. Anyway, often she ends up walking in circles with him. It can be quite amusing. Please forgive me yet again, dear reader. I still have not gotten to the subject of this little essay--the dilapidation.
Like I was saying, after getting him bridled, Miss R. saddled him up and meanwhile was also running water into the cattle troughs. Then came the moment of mounting. Due to the girls short stature, she often hops on one foot for a minute or two while securing her proper foot (the left) in the stirrup. Well, today, after getting her foot in she started to heave herself up. She paused with a confused look on her face. "That was weird," she remarked, "my pants feel funny." When she looked up again she declared, "Rats! I ripped my favorite pair of riding pants!" And ripped they were indeed...the left leg had ripped right across the back several inches up from the knee. "Too much stress on 'em I guess."
With that, she continued her ascent and had a throughly enjoyable ride--or so I would say from an observers position. And that, dear friends is a woeful tale of dilapidation. I think that Miss R. took her predicament in stride with humor. That's one thing I have noticed about this particular friend over the years, she can normally find something funny to laugh about.
Alas, for the pants!
~~Nate
*For the uninitated, Nate is a VERY old friend of mine:)
In reality, Nate is actually a creation of my 8 or 9 year old mind...like I said, a very old friend. He's popped up over the last 11 or 12 years in various places, but most recently he has become a journalist. Nate used to ride his trusty four legged steed (a stool!) chasing bad guys who had abducted his beloved sisters, Isabella and Francine (Savannah and Katherine). His weapon was a small rifle (actually a put-put stick Daddy had made me out of cedar). Naturally, he always prevailed over the enemy :) And that is a brief, non-comprehensive history of my 'twin'.
Racheal P.S. If you want to know what Nate looks like, he looks just like me only with short crazy hair (afterall, he has as many cowlicks as I do!) Also his jaw is a bit squarer and he's a little bit taller and thinner :)
Ladies and gentlemen...Grandpa is very ill. When he was taken to the hospital on Thursday (or was it Wednesday?), we all just assumed that the medication he had been on was still somewhat in his system and making him unreasonable. That and the fact that we figured he was dehydrated as he wasn't drinking much at all and he had diarrhea pretty bad. The next thing we know, we have been told that he has an obstruction in his small intestine and stage four colon cancer and that he might have as little as just days left.
Last night and this morning, Grandpa had a bowel movement. That could be a good sign, but I'm not going to jump up and down until we have any better information. They gave him at least three x-ray's yesterday and so far one today (that I know of). Daddy is real put out with the doctor (as if I could blame him) for not giving up information before he left for the weekend.
Katherine and I went down with Mama to see him yesterday. He was sleepy and it seemed like every time he went to sleep someone would come in and wake him up. Because he was so sleepy he wasn't the clearest of mind. However, I didn't get the impression that he was sundowning. At one point a lady (nurse of some sort I think) came in looking for another gentleman (who was sharing the room with Grandpa). He wasn't there at the time and so the lady asked Grandpa if he was this other gentleman. Without skipping a beat, Grandpa said, "No, I'm George." (NOT!!) I said something to the effect of "GRANDPA!" (with a large grin of course, I know the old man and his silliness of this sort) and he laughed a little and admitted that he wasn't George, but neither was he the other guy. I hope the lady didn't get too confused, but it's something you have to put up with working around old men...they like to tease the nurses ;)
At the times when I wasn't in the room, I looked at magazines, read part of a newpaper, watched TV (did you know that info-mericals can be an hour long??), and did a puzzle with Katherine. I also evesdropped on other waiting room occupents conversations and tried not to look like I was listening. Somehow I don't think that that one group would really have minded in the least.
Racheal
Grandfathers--plural, that is. I've been with both today :) I helped get Grandpa to his easy chair this morning and then once again dressed and out the door for a doctor's appointment. A funny incident happened at that point. I was behind him and between him and the 'co-pilot' chair and he said something like "I have to sit down." Well, Mama and I were trying to keep him on his feet for another minute or two and I thought he was going to continue standing. Anyway, he ended up sitting on my lap! It was hilarious!!! Poor Grandpa was so sleepy he didn't really get it, but it really was funny. I was suprised that he didn't feel heavier than he did.
I took Granddaddy his lunch and he actually talked a little bit! I asked him, "Is it supposed to rain?" He looked out the window for a minute then kind of chuckled and said, "They tell you one thing one day and the next something else...It's not supposed to rain Thursday or Friday..." There was a little more, but I don't remember what it was. I do know that he ate his entire lunch minus two slices of red pepper that I ate. (He had left the table already and I knew he didn't want them.)
In just a few minutes I have to head over and feed him supper. He's got some rice over there, so I'm going to take the remaining egg in the house, along with some more red pepper, and his tea over to his house. Once there I will warm up the rice and cook the egg.
So, see ya later alligators! (And I'll go ahead and respond for you: After 'while, crockadile!) *grin*
Racheal
The day started before I was done reading my Bible, eaten my breakfast, or washed my hair. I might as well add, before I was properly dressed. I had just finished my coffee and was part way through Ezekiel 20-something, when Katherine poked her head in my door and said something like, "Mom's calling you." Now, Mom calling me at that time of day, right after her cell phone rang means one thing--head for the RV! I did and I saw why as soon as I got there. Grandpa was semi on his knees beside the bed (I still don't know how or why exactly he was in that highly uncomfortable position.) Mom got the gait belt on him and we heaved. Nothing. I was in a bad position for the attempt and I decided I'd be much more useful if I grabbed his legs and shoved while Mom picked up and pulled his torso. It worked that time. Next he needed help rolling over. (This not eating, drugged like situation has not been good for him.) Then he was laying on his arm. So I grabbed ahold of him and picked him up enough for him to get it free. After that we got him sat up and a pair of shorts on him. I had to do some lifting then too.
Mama went and got him half a mug of chicken broth. He drank all of it, but it took some prodding to get it all down. She then asked him if he'd like a slice of toast with some butter on it. He didn't say no, so she headed to the house to get it ready. (Daddy fixed an egg to go with it.) I attempted to get him to get up and walk to the table, but he didn't want to try until Mom came back. When she got back, I helped him up by hauling on the gait belt and I hung there until he was safely deposited at the table. He walked fine until he got even with the fridge and then he started leaning on it and things got kinda cockeyed. Anyway, he got in his seat and ate the egg, the toast, and half a banana.
Lunch time: He ate most of an omelette. The time: About 2:10 p.m.
The Place: The Motor Home
The grandaughter, with her hair piled on top of her head like a beehive, arrives to check on her grandpa and see if he is getting ready for his doctor's appointment. Her grandma is getting ready to attempt to help him out of his damp shorts and into a 'Depend'. Realizing this is no time to be squeemish, the girl continues in and pitches into the activity. Afterall, her grandmother is incapable of lifting the man, nor should she even attempt it. Indeed, it was the girl that put the 'Depend' on her grandpa, modestly keeping her eyes on his feet. Four times, the girl hauled him to his feet before the dressing stage was done. As the power was out in the motor home, the A/C wasn't on and it was hot. The grandpa was red-faced and hot, so she gave him his root beer and he drank some of that.
Shortly thereafter, her mother arrived, "Is Racheal out here?" "I'm here!" the girl stated, "I figured I might as well come out and make sure he was dressed." "Good, I was hoping you were here..." A few minutes later, the job of getting the older gentleman out the door and into the car commenced. First, they got him on his feet and coached him in his walking to the 'co-pilot' seat at the front of the RV. Then the mother went and got the car while the grandaughter attempted to get him to move himself from the co-pilot chair to the lift seat. That eventually happened, but it took two people and some bullying from the girl's part. [Actually, it wasn't bullying. I was on the chair on my knees and I refused to move and basically forced him to hold his own and get his bottom over the lift seat before I let him down.] Her mother went to go talk to her mother (the girl's grandma). Meanwhile, the young woman squoze out between the seat, the lift, and the door jam so she could lower her grandpa out the door.
Once down, he performed well, only getting rather weak and wobbly at the car. The girl shoved him at just the right time to get him on the seat. Then she put his feet in and buckled him in, closed the door and wandered off so her grandma wouldn't have to worry about hitting her with the car (or vice versa). Such is life. Honestly though, it can be somewhat draining standing around in a hot RV trying to get your grandpa to get up and not convince himself that he needs to sit down. Usually, he can hold on longer than he thinks he can and at times I push him to do so. Live and learn...I have learned how to deal with old people and hopefully how to age and how not to age gracefully. I've also learned not to be as squeemish as I used to be (not that I was ever really squeemish, but the idea of putting underpants on my grandpa is something I would have recoiled at a couple years ago.) I've learned not to let little noises and smells bother me, to be blunt with him when needed (brutally honest at times), to be patient (most of the time--I'm probably more patient with my "old folks" than with anyone else--besides small children), and to down right ignore some stuff that otherwise would drive me nuts. (aka--the bickering and sharp wit)
Oh, and I wasn't kidding about the beehive... Racheal
No, I haven't exactly been AWOL....
I came down with a cold on Wednesday and spent the next four days propped up in bed reading mysteries and writing a story (which isn't finished yet.) I like reading mysteries when I don't feel good. Normally I grab an Agatha Christie off the shelf, but I think I may have read them all already (at least the ones down here). So I read three Dorthy Sayers instead. Lord Peter Whimsy is a interesting character. I like Bunter--his valet--even though he normally doesn't feature very prominately.
Yesterday we stayed home from church because three of us were sick (Daddy, Momma, and I--Savannah has it this morning.) It was probably the oddest Lord's Day ever. (I've said that before...) Really though, we didn't get around to listening to a sermon until afternoon! I spent a majority of the day writing that little story (I don't know if is falls under the 'short' story category or not really.)
Katherine made a very wise observation yeserday afternoon: "It is providential that you got sick because otherwise we wouldn't have been here yesterday or today." It's true to...Saturday had been planned as a Church cleaning day--it got canceled due to the sickness in this family. Saturday, Grandpa was throwing up and not well. Since we (leave me out--I didn't know what was going on until 1 or so) were home, we (everyone else) was able to take care of him. Daddy was on and off the phone with a nurse all day...the ladies coaxed food and drink into Grandpa...etc. Mama thinks that the Prilosec which he was given for his ulcer (they found that on Tuesday during his upper GI endoscopy) was reacting with his Gleevec (for his cancer). Now he is acting like he's going through withdraw--even though he was only on the drug for three days! (He was taken off the Prilosec, by the way.) I hate drugs...
Daddy and I will go down to where my horse around 11:30 because Matt (the wonderful pro horse trainer who has helped me some--he is a great teacher) is coming out to worm Snip. (Last time he was wormed was the very day I broke my wrist--also Pearl Harbor Day.) Daddy doesn't feel so good today, but he wants to learn how to do it. Snip has gotten somewhat more ornery this winter--he's got to quit it. I plan on talking to Matt about getting the bit into Snip's mouth (how do I retrain him to stop acting an idiot about it!) and the slide stop business. (I'm tired of damaging myself trying to teach him to slide in on his back feet.) Maybe once I'm all over this cold I can ride this week--we'll see :)
Racheal P.S. CHECK OUT KATHERINE'S BRAND NEW BLOG!!!
Yesterday, Mama and I burned some more wood in the horse lot. At the same time we cleaned up some of Uncle Rod's trash from behind the barn. Ick. Anyway, I had killed two black widows that were under the tree limbs. I hate those spiders. Never do that kind of work without gloves on--you never know when a black widow may be sitting there. Right after killing the first one, I had a huge gray wolf spider almost jump on me! I had the jitters there for a bit. I don't like spiders. We didn't get done burning wood, but we put a dent in what was there. The next thing that needs to be done after the wood is to put a fence up along the one side. Daddy had said that we would put Snip in with the heifers that we are going to wean, but I don't know if that still holds or not. Daddy is going to build a stall/tack shed contraption too. (That way I don't have to lug my saddle from the barn.) I hope to be able to keep the feed out there too. Today I went to P.C. with Grandma and Grandpa. He had an appointment to get him ready for his upper GI endoscopy tomorrow. Anyway, Grandma wouldn't let me park the car, so I went on in with Grandpa...and we went on ahead to the ACC (don't ask me what that stands for). Anyway, by the time Grandma got there she was a little put out. And worn out. The appointment went pretty smoothly...I was able to help answer some of the questions and work as an interpreter...Grandma needs hearing aids worse than Grandpa (but don't tell her I said that!) When we left, she let me go fetch the car. I'm glad because she was tired out. (Her legs bother her and if she's on them for too long she has a lot of pain.) I got Grandpa loaded in, took the wheelchair back into the hospital and hopped in the car. We went out to eat at a place called Elana's and I am still full 4 hours later. (Unusual for me.) I had this massive chopped steak and onions (forgive my ignorance, but I thought chopped steak was steak sliced up with onions--turns out it was more like a oversized hamburger!) I ate the entire thing, because by the time I was full, there wasn't very much left. I rather wish I had gotten a box. It took a while to get Grandpa back into the car because he was so sleepy and believe me, he gets very slow and argumentative (though not necessarily always nastily so) when he's groggy. At one point, a hispanic man (with earings and a gotee--not exactly the kind of person one would expect to stop--based on outward appearances) who was walking by slowed down and asked, "Do you need any help?" I laughed (because what else am I supposed to do when cajoling my grandpa to get out of the wheelchair and into the car?) and said, "No. But thank-you!" (Since he couldn't really be of any assistance. Now, had Grandpa been sitting on the pavement...)
Anyhow, I finally got him up (the old hand on the belt trick really helps--I'm a pro at that [uh, that isn't even a humble brag...]) and in the car. Then I put the wheelchair in the trunk. That took two tries because I got the thing backwards the first time. It will only go in the back of Grandma's yellow car one way.
Almost the whole time I was riding in the car I was writing letters...it's easier to be oblivious to Grandma's aggressive driving if you don't have to watch. (Though I did keep an eye out at intersections.)
Now I need to go feed my starving horse :) I hope maybe I can go ride tomorrow--even if I do nothing but walk him. We both need the exercise. (I want him to fatten up, not me!) Racheal
Today is Granddaddy's 81st birthday. (I got that wrong on Monday.) Tonight is a big birthday shindig over at a relative's house. I'm planning on taking my video camera and shooting some video--maybe 'interview' people for stories about Granddaddy. That kind of depends on how comfortable I feel. I like this side of the family but don't know them very well, having met most of them only since we retired. I rather doubt that some would let me interview them anyway; being rather camera shy. Maybe I'll put together a birthday video as practice.
I'm planning on rushing off in about half an hour to go feed Snip. I'm taking a hiatus from riding at present due to a suspected cracked rib. Remember when I fell off last time and hurt my hip? Well, three days after that, as I got out of the car to open the gate I noticed a pain in one of my ribs. I figured it was just a cramp (believe me, sitting in th backseat of a small car with three mostly grown girls can be condusive to getting cramps*grin*) but it never quite went away. Then it got worse. Last Thursday (two weeks to the day of my fall), I slammed hard into the saddle attempting a slide stop (which I'm convinced I've been working on wrong anyway). I felt compression in my spine and the pain wrapped all the way around to that rib. Oh, was that was a severe pain! Once I managed to sit back up in the saddle and stop moaning, I walked Snip for a bit then tried a trot. No way, Jose! I decided such was not what I should do. I rode a few times after that but after two days of me complaining about my rib pain, Mom suggested I not ride for about a week. We figure that I might have cracked it when I fell and made it worse with Snip's pogo stick style stops. (There are some days that I have come extremely close to being bounced completely off.) My time off will also give Snip some time for his teeth to finish coming in. Hopefully once he quits teething he'll stop being such a beasty about the bit! (Horses lose their baby teeth too.) Racheal
I declare! The 'blogosphere' is so tiny! I keep finding that one person's blog is followed by another person who I recognize off yet another person's blog! It's ridiculous! However, I didn't come on here to exclaim over such nonesense.
I did some hunting around in some of our old pictures and found a small number of photo's and line-drawings out of old newpapers that I can use for my documentary. A very small number--but some are better than none.
[By the way have you heard about the double barrel .45 in the style of the 1911? The AF2011-A1? It's nutty! (Sorry, Daddy was checking his Guns & Ammo e-mail and clicked on the article.)]
Back to the point :) I thought I'd share a couple pictures of my Granddaddy when he was young. Just a quick warning--he was a looker! (So was Grandmother!)
The Clark Gable mustache days. Granddaddy was a DI during the Koren War.
Now, wasn't that worth it? According to him, he was the meanest Drill Sgt. you could ever have had. The sad thing is, he's proud of it. He also denies that he was trying to look like Clarke Gable--no matter, he could fool you at first glance :)
Granddaddy always calls Grandmother 'my pretty woman' when talking about her. Anyway, it has always kind of mystified me why my lady-like grandmother married a drinking, smoking, rough cowboy. He wasn't a Christian when they got married. It was after the kids were born (or some of them at any rate) that he came to Christ. He quit drinking and smoking, but never left the ranching. Racheal
That's me today--groggy. I hate Daylight Savings Time...what good does it really do? Part of my tiredness today may be from Saturday catching up with me. I'm always kind of tired on Monday anyway because we often get home from church late.
I haven't put anything on here in while about Grandpa. Anyway, his hemoglobin levels continue to go down. He's had to have two blood transfusions in two weeks. He has no internal bleeding so it is quite likely that he has bone cancer or leukemia.
I had some thoughts about God today--musing prompted by certain situations. God loved us while yet in our sins...unfathomable. What is even more unfathomable is that He died for us. (I also like to remind myself that He didn't just die for us, He lived our righteousness for us. This means that I do not have to 'work' to be righteous. I am justified because Christ lived righteously for me and took my sin upon Himself. I can do no other than strive to obey His commands [for, "if you love Me, keep My commandments"]--even though it merits me nothing. SOLI DEO GLORIA!)
Racheal
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