The House is so quiet

His heavy-duty oxygen concentrator lies sleeping in the hallway. One gets used to noisy machines, but once they're turned off, the quiet is unsettling.

David was admitted to the Palliative Care Floor at Mount Sinai Hospital yesterday. It was snowing. Very strange at this time of year, especially since we've had such a warm spring. Driving was a little freaky. They put him in the ambulance at the hospital, while I dashed to the parking lot, unlocked my car door, paid the exit fee and barrelled down the road, hoping to follow. A couple of blocks away I saw a yellow ambulance. Oh good - visibility was poor, so following a big yellow ambulance made my job easier - until it took a wrong turn.

Oops - my mistake - wrong ambulance. Good thing I knew where I was going and happened to end up at Mt. Sinai just as the Real Ambulance was arriving.

Things are much more relaxed. I can finally breathe a little bit, knowing he is receiving good care. The nurses are angels, the doctor - superb. Comfort is their goal and accommodation almost takes my breath away. I slept on a cot beside David's bed last night. Not too comfortable, but he slept like a baby all night. I wanted so badly to open a window, but they were sealed. Lights and noises kept me awake. I had not brought anything with me, so slept in one of David's T-shirts. Tonight I will sleep in my own bed, with the windows wide open. I hate being away from him, but really cannot sleep in the hospital.

I know this "letting go" process is a gradual one. I am learning to "let go" of his personal care. I need to let the nurses bathe him and look after him, particularly since I can't be there every day. The drive is about an hour. Twice as far as the active hospital. But I am wearing out. So I have to take a step back.

It feels like our paths are beginning to fork - he taking one and I the other. We can still see each other, still hold hands and kiss, still share coffee and meals, but I know it's time for him to move on.

I have come to realize that the human spirit is incredibly strong. I may have said it before (long ago when I first started blogging) that his body is crumbling, yet his spirit shines brightly and strongly through his eyes.

Most people would have left this Earth by now. But David's mind is still sharp. I bring him the mail and we open it together. He "instructs me" (as if I didn't know) on paying the bills and other household accounting. This keeps his mind active and busy and makes him feel as if he's still a part of Normal Life Out There. He wants to do some physio to gain back a little strength, so he can sit in a chair and hopefully stand up once again. I am humbled by the strength and fighting spirit he has.

As I drive home, I watch people doing everyday things: shopping, eating, walking. I speak to my children. "What can we do to help?" they ask. "Just tell me about your day. I need to know there is a Normal Life Out There somewhere".

I feel like I'm in..

the Twilight zone these days.

After a 3 week period (back in March) of Hubby feeling increasingly weak and sick, I called an ambulance to take him to hospital. It was supposed to be for a couple of days only. A few tests, treatments, some medication and hopefully back home.
No way.
He's been in hospital ever since.
We're going on 18 days now.

What a nightmare. First the emergency ward. A horrible place to be for a night, never mind two. Hubby was put on wall oxygen using a "rebreather mask". In other words, a very high amount of oxygen and one we cannot duplicate at home.

The nightmare began when nurses decided to adjust his oxygen. No rhyme or reason, just felt they should turn it down. Definitely not good. Poor Hubby nearly passed out several times. On one occasion, somebody turned it off because it was too noisy.
I shrieked.
Tore open the curtain in the next cubicle (where hubby's oxygen was located), turned it back up and yelled "WHO TURNED OFF THE OXYGEN!??"
There was only the poor patient lying in bed and (get ready........) a cardiologist. Now I have no proof that it was this doctor who inadvertently turned the oxygen off, but there was nobody else there.

I marched up to the head nurse. Told her what happened. Told her I was not going to file an "incident report", but she should know what is happening in the E.R. Magically, hubby was moved to "overflow" the same day.

Overflow is a holding unit for patients awaiting admission. There was a little more privacy. More space to put things.
However - once again, the nurses took it upon themselves to "wean" hubby off his high power, what is supposed to be short term, oxygen consumption.

Nurse #1 took off this specialized mask and gave him the "prongs" (same kind we use at home). He then proceeded to turn the oxygen setting down from 15 to 6.
Once again I shrieked like a banshee!
"ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL HIM!!??"
"M'am, I know COPD. Don't worry."
"LIKE HELL YOU DO!"
"M'am, calm down, this is doctor's orders."
"WHICH DOCTOR?" I knew nobody had given him any such order.
No answer.
"WHICH DOCTOR TOLD YOU TO DO THIS?"
Still no answer.
"CALL RESPIRATORY THERAPY."
"I know what I'm doing."

Poor Hubby's oxygen sats descended like a stone. Before I could punch this nurse out, he realized he was doing something wrong. So he removed the prongs and put back the re-breather mask. Respiratory therapy arrived soon afterwards and I told the therapist what happened. She marched right over to this nurse and gave him "sh....".

The next day, Nurse #2 decided to do the same thing.
'NO WAY!" I bellowed at him.
He was more amenable - just turned his back and went on to another patient.
By this time I was beside myself. I felt I could not leave hubby for even an instant. The next day his respirologist came in and I told her what had been going on with the nurses. She was angry and wrote a note in the chart that NOBODY was to touch his oxygen. Finally!

There were a few more incidents, but I'm too tired to recount them. Now Hubby is moved to a ward and his care is much better.

My days are spent at the hospital. I do come home to sleep, even if it is fitful. Today I had to take a half a day off. I came home after lunch and slept the afternoon away. This evening I will go over bills and other paperwork that has been neglected.

Hubby is awaiting placement at Mount Sinai Hospital here in Montreal. If he comes home it will be a miracle. I keep hoping and praying, but the chances are slim.

Spring is in full bloom here. Leaves are coming to life. My garden is blooming. I brought Hubby some daffodils to put by his bedside.

Blogging break

Hubby is going through a rough patch right now, so I won't be posting for a while.

I will still be around to visit. I enjoy reading your blogs as they lift my spirits and your friendship nourishes my soul.

Hope spring is coming in nicely for all of you.

Sunshine, shamrocks and spring!

Dawn....waiting for sunrise.....most of the shamrocks still asleep....except for a few early risers.....

Here it comes! Here it comes.......cheering on the sun as it peeks above the horizon....
High noon......flowers bursting with joy.....basking in the glorious sunshine.

Dusk....shadows lengthen....flowers close in sleep.
Out for my morning walk a few days ago:

I saw a flock of geese flying high up in the sky, returning home after a long winter. I've been scanning the sky almost every day this month, to catch a glimpse and finally, finally, that familiar V-shape, happy honking, and welcome back, geese!

I smelled a skunk - yes, in the morning. It's unusual to smell a skunk that early in the day. More likely that cloying smell stinks up the air (yuk!) in the evening or night (we all know that skunks are nocturnal creatures).

I heard a fly buzz by my ear. Really. Did not see it. But hey, I'll welcome a fly. That means that the bees are not far behind.

And all this sensual stimulation the space of a minute and a half.

Spring must be here!

Conversations.......

"Ahhhhhhh - this is soooooo nice. Being kissed by the sun!"
I overheard my shamrock plant talking to Sunkist tulips: "Did you know St. Paddy's day is just around the corner?"
"How could I not? You remind me every day! I do hope some bluebirds find that birdhouse over there and build a nest inside. I don't remember seeing any last year, did you Tessa?" "We weren't here last year, Tilly."

Why didn't I just ask, a number of my blogger buddies commented on my Pampering post a few posts ago.

Ask what? What kind of nice-smelling massage oil the masseuse was using on me. Good question, why didn't I just ask? Well if I had, then of course, there wouldn't be any story, would there?

But then you have to imagine yourself stretched out on the table. Soft music playing in the background. Body nice and warm under the sheets. Gentle, yet firm pressure over your shoulders by Ms. Massage-Lady ( I don't remember her name). Feeling drowsy........ Ooooo - this is nice. Tension melting away.......Body relaxing............Ummm - nice fragrance. Smells spring-like. No grass-like. No sort of lemony. Ah, who cares........relaxing into table a little more. Oooo.... that.... feels...... good. Where was I? What was I thinking about??? Oh, the music's changed........ where have I heard that piece before? It's sooooo soooooothing....... Sounds familiar..... but where? Ah, who cares........

I think you get the picture. Tooooooo much effort to open the mouth and speak. Or coordinate the brain in the first place ...........to find the words. And even so, I'd probably forget the name of that wonderful smelling massage oil the moment the name left her lips......lips.......did somebody say tu-lips?

Ahhhhh......that warm, caressing sun.....

Yippeeeeeee!!

I have heard from a book publisher!
They want to publish my book!!!

Yippeeeeee - I am over the moon!!!

I started writing Reading Between The Lines about 15 years ago. Put it down, picked it up, life happened, etc. etc. Send it off to a publisher 9 years ago. Got rejected. Sent it off to another one. Got rejected. Gave up. Thought I'd send it off to an agent instead. Might work better. No - did not. Sent it off to another one, two, three. Got rejected again. Gave up.

Over the past year, I'd begun looking at publishers once again.
Well, yesterday, I got the good news! It will take time.
My book will come out in about a year and a half.
But the process has begun!
I am sooooooo happy!!

I started writing articles on palmistry for The Journal of Alternative Therapies, here in Montreal. I wrote some more for Everchanging Magazine in Burlington, Vermont. After a while, I decided to put all these articles together into a book. It did not sound right, so I did a lot of editing, and changing. I grew along with the book.

This is a healing book; a book of my experiences reading people and helping them along their pathway.
Will keep everyone posted.
Yippeeeeeee!

Pampering.....

Sweet hyacinth, beginning to open.

That was then......

Today she is in full bloom, gossiping with the daffys.
Thought I could use a massage last week. Needed a little pampering (don't we all at this time of year?)

There was a "special" on at my local beauty parlor (does anybody else still use that antiquated word? LOL! ) So I took advantage and booked an afternoon of luxury.

The masseuse was a young girl.
Hmmmm.
She was thin - very thin.
Hmmmm - not much muscle power.
"Come right in," she instructed, leading me into a serene, fragrant-smelling, candle-lit, room. Soft music was playing and the lighting was subdued.

Ahhhh - definitely relaxing.
After peeling off my clothes, I bounced up on the table, and scrunched under the sheets. I wiggled around to find a comfortable position for my face. One thing I absolutely hate is having your face in that doughnut-shaped ring. It feels anything but relaxing. A few minutes later, she knocked softly on the door and entered the room.

It's been a couple of years since I had my last massage so I was pleasantly surprised when she began by touching me on top of the sheet, rather than ripping it away with a flourish, like a magician ripping off a tablecloth to reveal rabbits hopping around, or doves ready to take flight. I always feel rather vulnerable lying there unclothed in a face-down position on the table, as if I'm about to be served for someone's dinner.

Despite my misgivings, she was good. I enjoyed the massage. And she used a light, fresh smelling lotion that reminded me of spring grass or a meadow.

The hour went by quickly and soothingly (is that a word?). While pulling on my clothes, I figured I'd take a peek around to see if I could find that fresh, spring-like lotion. I wanted to know what it was, so I could go out and buy it.
Hmmmmm. Not in sight.
Not on the shelves - they only held candles and some pretty coloured stones.
Not under the massage table.
Any hidey-drawers? Nope.
Ah - another shelf on the far side of the room beside the other massage table.(She had put me in a "couples" massage room. I guess the regular rooms were all taken). There were 2 big lotion bottles on that shelf. But surely, she wouldn't have taken lotion from across the room?

Pumped the first bottle. Nothing. Did not smell at all.
Pumped the second bottle. Eewwww - some pepperminty stuff. I like peppermint, but this stuff was really STRONG - and mixed with some other strong stuff. Really overpowering.

Eeewwwww - I rubbed my hands over my pants trying to get rid of it. Not too smart - won't get rid of it that way. Eewwwww - I have to get rid of this stuff! She'll know instantly that I've been snooping! Wiped my hands vigorously on the sheets that were covering me earlier. Ewwww - still there. Could not get rid of that smell! Maybe a towel. Took one from under the table. Ewwww - still there.

Well, I have to leave the room sometime! She's waiting outside for me to pay my bill. Ah, there's some hand sanitizer. I'll try that.
Didn't work.
So, I poked my head outside the door. Nobody. Good. Ran to the washroom.
Held my hands under the tap and soaped and soaped until the smell was gone.
Whew!
Then serenely paid my bill and left.