Healed

I don’t get it. I was in so much pain yesterday. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t think straight. It was awful.

Today? It’s a little tender. A little sore. Not bad at all. I’m not even limping or anything. What the hell happened? Stupid foot. Stupid, stupid foot.

Anyway, 24 hours from now I expect my little quarantinie fun time to be over and history and a memory buried so deep I am not even sure it’s real. Covid-19 test at 8:09am. Freedom to roam the house without a mask approximately 15 minutes later. Kick ass, dude.

I have so much music to do in the next three weeks that I’m starting to freak out a little. Just warning you all that there might be a lot (I mean, a lot) of 50/90 music posts coming in the immediate future. Just so’s ya know. I mean, I just came up with terrible lyrics for song #40. I have three songs ready to sing. I can’t do car music until Saturday and I want to have 5-10 ready for vocal tracking by then. Yikes!

Okay, I need to fill up the cat’s food bowl, grab myself a caffeinated diet soda, and start my work day. The laundry is running already and the puddle formerly known as Lake Asshole has been cleaned up, including emptying the wet vac and the dehumidifier.

I think I’m good to go for now.

Wish my quarantinied ass luck.

Can I Please Catch a Break, Please?

Enough already. Uncle!

On top of all of the sources of stress and guilt and shit that are just making me feel terrible all the time, I now have crazy amounts of physical pain to add the proverbial cherry on top of my shit sundae.

Last night, just before I did my last 10 minutes of exercise for the day, I noticed that there was a little bit of pain in my right foot. It was sort of near the instep but also kind of on top. It was hard to place. I did my 10 minutes and everything was fine. A couple of hours later though, it was starting to really hurt. When I took off my shoes before bed it started hurting a ton. Now, the next morning… holy shit does it hurt like a mutha. It hurts like the end of the world.

I’m pretty sure it’s just my usual undiagnosed case of plantar fasciitis rearing it’s ugly asshole head again. I’ve been doing the stretching exercise that is supposed to help. It’s too soon to tell how it’s working though.

Can I please just catch a break? Pretty please? This insult on top of all of the other crap… How am I supposed to deal with it? Yes, I know it could be a lot worse, that doesn’t change the fact that the current situation Sucks.

Song Number 23 of 50 (I hope)

I’m on a bit of a mixing roll right now. Only partly because my mother is having a rough night. She had all of her discretionary meds. If she doesn’t fall asleep soon I don’t know what we’re going to do. It’s quiet in her bedroom right now, and she hasn’t come a-wandering out in a little while. After I post this I will go check on her.

The song is nothing special, but I kinda like it. The rhythm guitars sounded like crap so I had to EQ them. I always feel like a failure when I have to EQ guitars. I should be a talented enough recording engineer to actually capture my own friggin’ instrument correctly. I’m only being partly sarcastic when I say that, but rest assured I am being sarcastic.

On the up side, my father was flipping back and forth between the Red Sox game (that’s good) and a little league fucking world series game (oh, that is so not good). The little league game is over. Thank the baseball gods for that.

The Weekend… Finally

It is Friday. I have logged out of work for the day. It’s finally the weekend. You’d think that would be good. It’s not. The stress is still through the roof. I have to come back here tomorrow evening. I don’t want to, but I have to.

My mother hung out in the living room with my father and the healthcare worker. No animosity like there was this morning. She was fine. Actually, she slept in the recliner quite a bit. My father slept in the hospital bed. Sometimes that leads to a difficult night, but not always. In fact, I think more often than not it’s not a big deal.

I really need all of this to be over. There is a light at the end of the tunnel, but is it close or is it far away? It’s so hard to tell when you’re buried in the pitch dark.

Called It

Let’s check the tape. It was a little less than two hours ago when I typed the following:

“When it goes bad it always comes out of the blue.”

Yup. I totally called it. Right out of the fucking blue.

Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.Fine.HELL!!!!

Things Might Be Ramping Up

Things have been mostly quiet tonight. She did need the doctor approved supplemental pain med about half an hour ago. I thought that would be it, but she’s starting to sound like it’s going to be a rough night. I’m still optimistic that the extra pain med is still in the process of kicking in and she’ll be able to get comfortable enough to fall asleep.

Fingers eternally crossed.

Calming Down

For about an hour there it was as bad as the Nana Sitting situation has ever been. It’s calming down now. She went from watching the Sox and eating ice cream to what she described as the worst pain she’s ever felt. I had already given her all the pain meds I am allowed to give. She went to the bathroom a little while ago, which in and of itself felt miraculous as a few minutes before she was unable to sit at all, and I think she fell asleep. I just called out to her to make sure she was okay and I’m pretty sure I startled her awake. She just walked into the bedroom. I can’t see her at the moment but hopefully she’s trying to lay down. Fingers crossed she’s able to sleep through this one.

Sunday Nana Sitting

My mother doesn’t have dementia, but she does have memory issues left over from the brain tumor she had about 10 years ago.

I got here a little after 6:30. I asked her if she had eaten dinner. She had not. I asked her if she wanted anything. She said she didn’t know. Did she want me to order something? No. Did she want me to make her something? No. She said that she had a big lunch and maybe she didn’t want anything at all. Okay. She takes a lot of meds at 8:00 so I suggested maybe she should have a Boost (it’s like an energy drink geared toward seniors) with her pills. She said that was a good idea.

10 minutes later she was in the kitchen making herself a sandwich. It wasn’t that she changed her mind. It wasn’t that she ignored our little discussion. From her point of view our chat never happened.

Every time I come here I have to tell her how old I am, how old Jen is, how old Harry and Bellana are, where I am going to sleep, that I am going to be working, where I work, how long I’ve been working there, which sibling will be relieving me, which sibling was here the night before.

She doesn’t forget everything. A few examples: She knows who I am married to, she knows who my step kids are, she knows they are going to the same college (or they will be shortly), she knows which channel the Game Show Network and NESN are on. She knows Dad is in the hospital and she knows what’s wrong with him.

I don’t know why I am writing all of this out. It’s stressful and it’s sad, but it doesn’t really add to the difficulty of the situation. It’s just part of how things go. I don’t know. I might delete this later. I don’t know.

She’s complaining about pain tonight but it’s not too bad yet. She’s been up and around and she hasn’t seemed tired, but she just turned off her bedroom light. Maybe she’ll get some sleep. I’m pretty tired, but I am planning on staying awake for a while. TBS is showing Marvel movies. Captain Marvel is on right now. Rick and Morty is hovering out there at 11:00. I already looked up what channel Comcast runs the Cartoon Network on.

Well, I spoke too soon. She just got up again. It’s leg pain tonight. Probably arthritis. It might be a tough night.