I must find a job, although there aren't any, and I have no one to financially help me. I know there aren't any full-time jobs, but maybe there are some part-time jobs. If I am lucky enough to find a part-time job, even though it will cost $5.00 a day in gasoline to get to the job and home, my food stamps, unemployment benefits, ADC or Welfare, will be reduced. Last year I was able to draw partial unemployment and to make up to half of my unemployment benefits, but my food stamps were reduced by a like amount. Considering that it costs me $5.00 a day to drive back and forth to work, I ended up in the hole.
I was shocked to see my child so thin at the hospital visiting Mom. I've found out why. My child, spouse and their two children are trying to live on $378.00 a month take-home pay, and $148.00 of food stamps. There's not any money allowed for driving to and from work. Before food stamps arrive every month, my child is eating bread and vegetables. When the first borne was three years old, the Women's Children and Infant program, WIC, no longer supplied milk for the eldest, and now there isn't enough milk for the family either. Their rent is $230.00 a month for a two bedroom apartment, which is not an excessive amount for this area. In fact, it's dirt cheap. They must pay our Great Gas God, Cilco, and their telephone. They have no insurance and make too much money for a medical card. There's no money or program for medical, dental, Pap Smears, hyperactivity testing for the four year old or to find out why the three-year-old isn't talking yet.
My county had twenty-three percent more people on welfare in 1983 than in 1982. Our area is rising in new unemployment benefit claims. The state of Illinois states that a total of $632.o00 is needed for a family of three to live in this area, but only $302.00, plus food stamps, is supplied by all the agencies helping families. I've worked since I was fifteen years old, and the people like myself, who have worked hard and raised their families, are allowed less than one-third of $632.00, although we have essentially the same expenses: rent or house payment, Cilco, phone, water, transportation, food, etc. Although my expenses are cheaper than someone with children, they aren't two -thirds cheaper, and my home is cheap by any one's standards, anywhere in this country. Even though my house payment is very cheap, the payment is $6.00 more than welfare allows for all expenses, except food. Since I'm alone now, I'm perfectly capable of living in my living room/kitchen combination room and blocking off the rest of the house. This has been a severe winter. It seems to me that the less gas and electricity used, the more per therm and/or kilowatt Cilco charges. I'll winterize more this year, much more than ever before, just in case I'm wrong about Cilco.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Monday, March 5, 1984
I think that President Reagon's 'prayer in school' issue is designed to obscure the real issues of our day. I think he had promoted this diversion to make our minds wander from the very serious issues that people like myself and my child face.
I have to try to start a new left now. I also have to clean house, because it's a total disaster here. I've packed what remains of Love's stuff, and am making an attempt to pack Mom's stuff, but I need more boxes. I also need a roommate, but I must get the ceiling and roof fixed so it doesn't leak, get the refrigerator/freezer fixed, so it doesn't shock me when I touch it with wet hands, get the fence fixed, since I slid into it while my car was on ice, and clean house before I can advertise. I'm also going to have to get 'out and about' to let people know I'm looking for a roommate and a job, and that costs money. Somehow I feel swamped by all this responsibility, although I've had more responsibility many times in my life, but I have never feared for a job before the last several years. Actually in 1978 this area started to go bust after a plant closure. I once talked to a man who had been laid-off, had run out of unemployment, and was living in his car in this city in 1979.
I have to try to start a new left now. I also have to clean house, because it's a total disaster here. I've packed what remains of Love's stuff, and am making an attempt to pack Mom's stuff, but I need more boxes. I also need a roommate, but I must get the ceiling and roof fixed so it doesn't leak, get the refrigerator/freezer fixed, so it doesn't shock me when I touch it with wet hands, get the fence fixed, since I slid into it while my car was on ice, and clean house before I can advertise. I'm also going to have to get 'out and about' to let people know I'm looking for a roommate and a job, and that costs money. Somehow I feel swamped by all this responsibility, although I've had more responsibility many times in my life, but I have never feared for a job before the last several years. Actually in 1978 this area started to go bust after a plant closure. I once talked to a man who had been laid-off, had run out of unemployment, and was living in his car in this city in 1979.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Sunday, March 4, 1984
I know that the CIA and/or FBI have broken into people's homes, looking for things, something illegal, and destroyed their homes. Who has to fix the destruction they cause when they can't find anything or have made a mistake? Who has to fix it if it's a rental property? Who has to fix it when it's not a mistake?
Senator Gary Hart has won the Maine Caucus vote for Presidential Candidate. I don't feel he's the man for the job. His appearance and attitude seem contrived to me. I don't think the Maine Caucus is very important, in relation to the vote somehow, althought I understand that Senator Hart may become the Democratic Candidate for President of our country.
I dreamed a friend is in the hospital, but I don't remember any more of the dream.
Saturday, March 3, 1984
I don't want Edwin Meese as Attorney General of the United States, because he has no sensitivity about some of the deplorable conditions in this country. I think that President Reason has lost touch with the people that he is empowered to feed, clothe, shelter and protect.
I personally don't want prayers in school because, as newsman Bill Moyers stated so eloquently, "It would make something trivial of something so sacred".
I don't think that Ex-President Richard Nixon deliberately tried to hurt the American people. I think there were many things that he didn't tell us, but I think a selfish desire to protect himself was the motive, when he blatantly lied to us.
I need to do something with my seedy appearance, like shave my legs, comb my hair, wash my face, brush my teeth, put on deodorant, change my dirty footies and my threadbare bathrobe with no ass in it. I look like a derelict!
I dreamed I had a party at my house, although it isn't this house. A woman's well-manicured hand, with long red fingernails, is laying through the bathroom wall into the hallway. I opened the bathroom door and saw the hunched shoulders of a man in a tan sweater hovering over her. I believe she is dead and the man has killed her, so, I alert the men at the party, but the killer vanished, and the woman is dead.
Friday, March 2, 1984
I've dreamed I'm with the man I'm eventually going to marry. We're in my living room. I'm trying to explain to him that I'm upset. His hair is dark brown and his eyes are brown or dark hazel: they're not exceptional and he doesn't have really long eyelashes or anything. His face looks like it's pox-marked from acne or chicken pox when he was young. He looks my age, forty or so, but in a tired way. His eyebrows are thick and unkempt: they aren't arched, but more of a straight line sloping downward. His nose is long; shaped more like Presidential Candidate Walter Mondale's nose, but much thinner. He is dressed in a checkered, flannel shirt, paired with everyday black slacks. He is very tall, at least 6'1", maybe taller, and he is lanky, very long limbed and quite thin, the tall thin type like Skip Stevenson of the TV show 'That's Incredible'. He has collar length hair, which is somewhat disheveled, and a medium length beard that appears somewhat scraggly, as if it needs a trim. His beard isn't nearly as thick as the other men I've known. He works in a lumberyard, and doesn't make a lot of money, although he works tremendously long hours and he seems very tired. As I look at him, I am wondering what it is about him that attracted me, because he isn't physically the type of man that I would look twice at. He isn't outstanding looking in any way to me, and is maybe even a little bit hunch-backed. I'm wondering what it will be like after we're married. I know that I will marry him because he makes me feel so safe and secure, and he's the most gentle and understanding person I've ever known. He has already tried to get me to go to sleep in his arms and has held me spoon-fashioned, but I've been unable to sleep, because I'm afraid of dying. I'm agitated and trying to explain how I feel. He is lying on his back now, in bed, and is trying to go to sleep, but I am still talking to him about my irrational fears, even though I have already kept him up half the night, and he has to go to work tomorrow. He is so calm, self-assured, nonchalant and other-worldly, as if he knows something that I don't know. I know that even though I am not married to him yet, I can say what's on my mind, and he'll listen to me when I need to talk. He just looked at me, with "the look" that means relax, I'll be with you, and he said "Shhhhhhhhh, you're so scared", very softly and reassuringly. He is so amazing, he looks the derelict type, but he is the only one who has ever been able to erase my fears with one sentence before.
Thursday, March 1, 1984
CHAPTER 3, MARCH
I don't believe it, but the Federal Communication Agency has not only okayed a $2.00 raise in phone rates, it okayed $4.00.
What are Presidential Candidate Gary Hart's new ideas?
I watched 'The Day After', a movie about an atomic war. The Super Powers of this earth blow themselves and everyone off the face of the earth. I wonder if anyone would survive in a radioactive, contaminated atmosphere and environment? Is that the reason for the hurry to build the space station?
Wednesday, February 29th, 1984
I still wonder what stopped Mom's clock.
I don't think that Presidential Candidate Gary Hart would be able to accomplish very much, at least not nearly as much as Jackson, but I think he would listen to the people.
Tuesday, February 28, 1984
If asked by the President of the United States, would every American anonymously send money, as much as could be afforded, from a penny to 'ump-teen' dollars, even though the money may have been attained through illegal or illicit methods, to create jobs first, then to wipe out the national debt? Increased taxes are not the total answer, although they may be necessary. A nationwide appeal through television, radio, newspapers, and magazines, donated by the media and publishers, might be the answer.
I must worry about money again now, and am getting anxious feelings. It's snowing, dreary and very slippery out today. I had to run errands, but it wasn't safe to drive.
I wonder if my child's spouse expected to keep the burial policy money, and if so, should I have just let Mom rot at the hospital morgue?
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, February 27, 1984
I have run into some more government bureaucracy. The Home Energy Assistance Program, HEAP, needs a statement of my unemployment benefits. Being the stupid person that I am, I contacted the unemployment office about my dilemma, but I was told that I must write for a statement from another government agency. HEAP told me that the information will not arrive in time for me to qualify for the poor people's program, and that the unemployment office has never cooperated with the HEAP agency, even though the HEAP agency must have proof of my unemployment benefits. Luckily for me, I am on food stamps, and the Aid to Dependent Children's agency could, and gladly did, provide the necessary information. What would happen if my unemployment benefits were too much money to qualify me for food stamps, but not enough to disqualify me from the HEAP program? I would get no energy assistance, although I would be qualified for the program.
At 11:05AM and 6:14PM Mom's clock is keeping the correct time.
Mom's sister and her children have sent a plant, and I hope I can keep it alive, since everything seems to be dying around me, and I am withering on the vine.
My child called and wanted to bring some of the in-laws to go through Mom's things. I told her that they could all stay home and not make Mom's death a circus. Mom just died yesterday, and they want to rummage through her things. Are they all deranged, including my child?
I finally got some sleep, 17 1/2 hours worth. I'm still tired or maybe it's depression, diet or both of them. I must start taking better care of myself or I'm going to get sick, and I don't have any insurance either, the same as Love.
Why are people or races so petty? When the Reverend Jesse Jackson compared the racial slurs against the Jewish community to the racial slurs against the Black community, the Jewish community got very upset. I've been called "whitey" or "honky" and don't find it particularly offensive. No one is perfect and has perfect manners. There's always someone who is going to be offended. Of all the people in the world, it seems to me the 'chosen ones', or what Americans consider the chosen ones, needn't be as petty as the rest of the world.
Sunday, February 26, 1984
2:02AM, phone rings twice. 2:14AM, phone rings until I answer it. Mom is dead. A hospital nurse told me that she died a few minutes ago, but the official time of death won't be until the doctor arrives. 3:42AM, I had a headache and went to Mom's room to get an aspirin. Mom's digital clock was flashing 2:08AM, and won't change to 2:09AM. I watched it for about five minutes, then reset it. I checked all the other clocks, fuses and electrical appliances for a power surge or outage; everything was as it should have been. I rechecked Mom's clock at 4:08, 4:33, 5:23,7:08 and 10:04 AM. Her clock was working perfectly.
I called Mom's relatives at 5:50AM The phone lines to her whole hometown were down until then. They want to bury her in their family plot, which leaves Dad out in the cold. I still have Dad's ashes in an urn. I arranged with Dad's sister for him to be buried in their family plot, whenever I get the money for both of them to be buried.
Mom has made me executor of her will, but when my child lived with Mom for a month, Mom changed the beneficiary of her burial insurance. If Mom was going to make my child beneficiary, she should have made her the executor too, to prevent confusion. My child will have to declare the $1,000.00 insurance money on her income taxes, but Mom's final expenses will have to be paid too. Then out of the remainder, someone has to pay Mom's bills. I will have to end up paying them and be in debt as usual.
I'm wondering why we must have a funeral home as the middle man for cremation. The high cost of dying is $125.00 for cremation, $42.00 for the cardboard box to put the ashes in, $450.00 for picking Mom up at the hospital and taking her to the crematory, putting an obituary in the newspaper, doing all the paperwork associated with dying and bringing ashes to me. Although I genuinely like and admire my ex-classmate, who family owns the funeral home, I've decided I don't want to be Road Commissioner or a publisher, I want to be a Mortician and own a funeral home.
I called Mom's relatives at 5:50AM The phone lines to her whole hometown were down until then. They want to bury her in their family plot, which leaves Dad out in the cold. I still have Dad's ashes in an urn. I arranged with Dad's sister for him to be buried in their family plot, whenever I get the money for both of them to be buried.
Mom has made me executor of her will, but when my child lived with Mom for a month, Mom changed the beneficiary of her burial insurance. If Mom was going to make my child beneficiary, she should have made her the executor too, to prevent confusion. My child will have to declare the $1,000.00 insurance money on her income taxes, but Mom's final expenses will have to be paid too. Then out of the remainder, someone has to pay Mom's bills. I will have to end up paying them and be in debt as usual.
I'm wondering why we must have a funeral home as the middle man for cremation. The high cost of dying is $125.00 for cremation, $42.00 for the cardboard box to put the ashes in, $450.00 for picking Mom up at the hospital and taking her to the crematory, putting an obituary in the newspaper, doing all the paperwork associated with dying and bringing ashes to me. Although I genuinely like and admire my ex-classmate, who family owns the funeral home, I've decided I don't want to be Road Commissioner or a publisher, I want to be a Mortician and own a funeral home.
Saturday, February 25, 1984
There hasn't been one Democratic nor Republican candidate who has pledged himself and his campaign to the task of jobs and job programs. The Revered Jesse Jackson has pledged himself to the task of the poor, which is admiral, and although not exactly a second class objective, it still basically has nothing to do with making the members of my city productive members.
My life is complicated. In the summer I'm taking care of the pool, yard, garden and cleaning the house, and in the winter I try to catch up on all the things I don't have time to do in the summer, all the while trying to work. I need to simplify my life.
I met my child at the hospital. I couldn't take my car, because the radiator is leaking like a sieve now. Mom's car hadn't been started since September, but it started and got me there. All the tires were still up and all I had to do was add oil, transmission, power steering and brake fluids.
It was a beautiful today, in the upper 40's. For the first time since Love's death, I looked at all the plants, trees and bushes that he had planted. As I walked by the rose bushes, although they looked dead, I envisioned I smelled roses as if they were in full bloom. And then I remembered Cilco.
I have our picture, Love and me, on a wall beside my bed, and one on a nightstand.
We think that we are most humane, but are we? If we are more humane, why is Love dead? His preliminary autopsy revealed that because Love had been allowed to suffer so many heart attacks without surgery, he continued to suffer them even after the surgery was successful. Are we really more humane. We don't take care of our people, and make certain that they are adequately fed, clothed, sheltered and protected. We don't create a productive job for each person that wants to work. Lawmakers could do the most and haven't. Each country must take care of it's own, before the world will make it's own ideal world. The American government could set the world's standard, but doesn't seem to be doing any of that at my house in my town or my state, for that matter.
The smarter I am, the dumber I am. The more I understand, the more I realize there are things I don't understand. It is like a small white cloud, that with each new bit of information or knowledge gets bigger, until it completely blocks the sunlight and the beautiful sky.
My life is complicated. In the summer I'm taking care of the pool, yard, garden and cleaning the house, and in the winter I try to catch up on all the things I don't have time to do in the summer, all the while trying to work. I need to simplify my life.
I met my child at the hospital. I couldn't take my car, because the radiator is leaking like a sieve now. Mom's car hadn't been started since September, but it started and got me there. All the tires were still up and all I had to do was add oil, transmission, power steering and brake fluids.
It was a beautiful today, in the upper 40's. For the first time since Love's death, I looked at all the plants, trees and bushes that he had planted. As I walked by the rose bushes, although they looked dead, I envisioned I smelled roses as if they were in full bloom. And then I remembered Cilco.
I have our picture, Love and me, on a wall beside my bed, and one on a nightstand.
We think that we are most humane, but are we? If we are more humane, why is Love dead? His preliminary autopsy revealed that because Love had been allowed to suffer so many heart attacks without surgery, he continued to suffer them even after the surgery was successful. Are we really more humane. We don't take care of our people, and make certain that they are adequately fed, clothed, sheltered and protected. We don't create a productive job for each person that wants to work. Lawmakers could do the most and haven't. Each country must take care of it's own, before the world will make it's own ideal world. The American government could set the world's standard, but doesn't seem to be doing any of that at my house in my town or my state, for that matter.
The smarter I am, the dumber I am. The more I understand, the more I realize there are things I don't understand. It is like a small white cloud, that with each new bit of information or knowledge gets bigger, until it completely blocks the sunlight and the beautiful sky.
Friday, February 24, 1984
Mom is dying of congestive heart failure. I notified my child. Mom is not expected to live over a few days, if that long. She is totally comatose now. Her tongue was black when I was at the hospital last night. She was having such a hard time breathing and was perspiring profusely. Her heart was beating so hard that her chest heaved with each heart beat. I talk to her and a tear rolled out of each closed eye. I think she knew I was there, but there wasn't any response from her today. Diane came over just before I went to the hospital, and while I was gone, she washed the dishes, made the bed and just generally cleaned my house. When I got home, she called Don, her husband, and he picked up a pizza for all of us. She is so sweet and considerate. She asked me privately if Don and her split up, could she move in with me. I told her of course, but that they should try marriage counseling first.
My Love's family hasn't ever called, except about money and has never asked if there was anything of his I would want. How heartless!
Cilco has gotten another rate increase. I don't believe it! The word blood-suckers came to mind yesterday, before the increase was announced, although blood-suckers today isn't strong enough language. It echos in my mind today, in relation to the Commerce Commission, and in a vague way to government itself.
My female dog is absolutely no trouble, always comes when called, insists on sleeping with me and curls up beside me at every opportunity. Because she is such a sweet and perfect dog, I tend to overlook her and lavish more attention on my male dog. Although apparent to everyone, she needs my attention the most. I find a correlation between my perfect dog and children in
general. Many 'perfect' children are overlooked, while we try to be understanding of the unruly ones who need our attention all the time.
Nothing is done without selfishness, whether intended or not. If I could pay off my neighbor's houses, I would reap the rewards, because eventually someone would figure out who paid them off, and I would be ministered to for the rest of my life by my neighbors. It is wonderful to think that anonymity is possible, but not possible on this earth.
When I die, I will be greeted by Dad, Mom and Love. Mom was always religious, so, she has an automatic admission to heaven. Love was not a non-believer, so, he is admitted to heaven. Dad was an Athiest and is in his own hell, and I don't have to go to hell, because I'm an agnostic, but have volunteered to take Dad's place in his hell. Love is naturally excluded, because he is not a blood-relative, but because he loves me and doesn't want to see me go to Dad's hell, he volunteers to take my place. Mom feels terrible that she may have caused my Dad to become an Athiest and she insists on going to Dad's hell, in place of Love, in place of me, in place of Dad. Dad, seeing what has happened and knowing that he has stood his own hell until now, refuses to stay in heaven any longer and insists on being sent back to his own hell to serve his own term there. Love Dad, Mom and I have a 'donnybrook' over who is to be the privileged person to go to Dad's hell. When my child dies, and my grandchildren, the same scenario unfolds. All things are possible. A typical Saturday night family argument.
My child called, wants a divorce, and wants to go to school to become a nurse. I have been very frustrated with my child, because for four years, I haven't had any help at all with Mother. Being an only child, I have always known that I would have to take care of one of my parents, after the other one died. I always hoped it would be Dad that would need my help, because we were pretty much on the same wave length. When I needed help getting Mother to a good doctor, no one was available, not my child or her spouse, nor Mother's family or my child's spouse's family. No one cared! I tried to get help at the local mental health clinic and was literally given a pat on the hand by an elderly woman counselor, who told me "everything will work out". I tried a $15.00 lawyer, and she was no help at all. All she could tell me was "Get married". Her new doctor wouldn't follow her previous doctor's attempts to get her medicated and calmed down. After eight months of trying to live with her, a married couple I knew, helped me find a full-time job, and I was able to get the hell away from Mother, but unfortunately, I was hurt on the job and got laid-off.
My Love's family hasn't ever called, except about money and has never asked if there was anything of his I would want. How heartless!
Cilco has gotten another rate increase. I don't believe it! The word blood-suckers came to mind yesterday, before the increase was announced, although blood-suckers today isn't strong enough language. It echos in my mind today, in relation to the Commerce Commission, and in a vague way to government itself.
My female dog is absolutely no trouble, always comes when called, insists on sleeping with me and curls up beside me at every opportunity. Because she is such a sweet and perfect dog, I tend to overlook her and lavish more attention on my male dog. Although apparent to everyone, she needs my attention the most. I find a correlation between my perfect dog and children in
general. Many 'perfect' children are overlooked, while we try to be understanding of the unruly ones who need our attention all the time.
Nothing is done without selfishness, whether intended or not. If I could pay off my neighbor's houses, I would reap the rewards, because eventually someone would figure out who paid them off, and I would be ministered to for the rest of my life by my neighbors. It is wonderful to think that anonymity is possible, but not possible on this earth.
When I die, I will be greeted by Dad, Mom and Love. Mom was always religious, so, she has an automatic admission to heaven. Love was not a non-believer, so, he is admitted to heaven. Dad was an Athiest and is in his own hell, and I don't have to go to hell, because I'm an agnostic, but have volunteered to take Dad's place in his hell. Love is naturally excluded, because he is not a blood-relative, but because he loves me and doesn't want to see me go to Dad's hell, he volunteers to take my place. Mom feels terrible that she may have caused my Dad to become an Athiest and she insists on going to Dad's hell, in place of Love, in place of me, in place of Dad. Dad, seeing what has happened and knowing that he has stood his own hell until now, refuses to stay in heaven any longer and insists on being sent back to his own hell to serve his own term there. Love Dad, Mom and I have a 'donnybrook' over who is to be the privileged person to go to Dad's hell. When my child dies, and my grandchildren, the same scenario unfolds. All things are possible. A typical Saturday night family argument.
My child called, wants a divorce, and wants to go to school to become a nurse. I have been very frustrated with my child, because for four years, I haven't had any help at all with Mother. Being an only child, I have always known that I would have to take care of one of my parents, after the other one died. I always hoped it would be Dad that would need my help, because we were pretty much on the same wave length. When I needed help getting Mother to a good doctor, no one was available, not my child or her spouse, nor Mother's family or my child's spouse's family. No one cared! I tried to get help at the local mental health clinic and was literally given a pat on the hand by an elderly woman counselor, who told me "everything will work out". I tried a $15.00 lawyer, and she was no help at all. All she could tell me was "Get married". Her new doctor wouldn't follow her previous doctor's attempts to get her medicated and calmed down. After eight months of trying to live with her, a married couple I knew, helped me find a full-time job, and I was able to get the hell away from Mother, but unfortunately, I was hurt on the job and got laid-off.
Thursday, February 23, 1984
I can't find the spelling for a particular word in my dictionary. Part of the A section, part of the W section and all of the XYZ sections are missing. When I call the library to find out how to spell a word, Diane laughs at me. She's seen my dictionary and it's missing pages. It reminds me of my bathrobe, extremely threadbare, and although my bathrobe doesn't bother me, it does bother other people, especially Love when he was alive. I insisted that he take the money he was going to spend on a bathrobe for me and put it towards fixing my refrigerator /freezer at Christmas. I'm not particularly money-oriented, as far a personal belongings are concerned, and realize they don't bring me personal happiness. Nevertheless, I can't adequately live without a big refrigerator with freezer.
Mom is now catatonic. Her doctor has ordered a brain scan.
Cilco, the local gas and electric company, has sent a bill, it is now a whopping $427.00.
Mom has been turned down for insurance. Does that mean that I will have to live here if she dies, even though I've envisioned an efficiency apartment in Mom's house? Without insurance money the next couple of years, unless she lives, I can't possibly build the efficiency apartment.
Mom is now catatonic. Her doctor has ordered a brain scan.
Cilco, the local gas and electric company, has sent a bill, it is now a whopping $427.00.
Mom has been turned down for insurance. Does that mean that I will have to live here if she dies, even though I've envisioned an efficiency apartment in Mom's house? Without insurance money the next couple of years, unless she lives, I can't possibly build the efficiency apartment.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, February 22, 1984
If I had money, I would pay off all of my neighbors houses anonymously, so that they would never have to worry about living in the street and eating, which I worry about regularly. I see so much suffering around me since the recession/depression hit this area, it makes me physically sick to my stomach. Our present system of government seems the most unjust of all, because so much more could be done, instead of defense spending and space satellites, and frittering away the gifts we are giving them, taxes. Raise our taxes if need be and feed, clothe, shelter and protect our poor. I would like to conduct a poll of everyone in the city to see how many people are unemployed and underemployed, and somehow ensure that all the people who want to work are employed. If the men were employed at a living wage, it would create a lot of job openings, because their wives could stop working and stay home with the children, and the single members of my ideal city would be able to find work too. Most of all I would like to buy ny ex-neighbor, who had his home involuntarily auctioned, a similar home. If I could somehow do all of the above, the first thing the city council would do is vote themselves a raise, because the city would be prospering, whether they had anything to do with it or not, and I would have to move to another city, and start over, hoping the next city government would be smarter.
I feel very strongly about President John F. Kennedy's statement "Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country".
In reference to the ideal city that I've described, minus the city council's pay raises, I would have to require a one-year residency of anyone working at a job in the city, and the owners of any new businesses would have to have lived in my city one-year also, since that is when unemployment benefits start running out. I would have to be judge and jury, and exclude many people who would need a job badly. I would have to provide a dividing line on who were to be productive members of my city. After a one- year residency, even though it is a future one-year residency, a job would be offered to those willing to work. Unfortunately, some people, past and future, would have lived on the street and not have had enough to eat one -year, because their unemployment had been exhausted before they moved to my city, and others, only one day. Also unfortunately, the rewards would be the same, but there must be a dividing line, so that I would eventually be able to take care of all the residents. Only people who truly want their friends or relatives with them will be allowed to indefinite visits by their friends or relatives, and I would be the judge and jury again.
Maybe Mother always needed an exorcism instead of Haldol: to her, she was religion personified. She made seemingly good-hearted gestures, but expected a pay-back one way or another, even extracted and irrational pay-backs.
I have more love for my neighbors than my Mom's brother, who is a minister. When Mom's mind completely snapped, I called him, crying, pleading for his help with her, and even offered to pay all of his expenses if he would come here for awhile, but he refused. Yet when he was a young man, he was told by a 'voice' (according to my Mom) to break his engagement to his fiance, and become a minister, because he wouldn't be able to be married and be a minister. I forgive him, but I personally had hell here on earth between the time that Dad died and Mom was finally given anti psychotic drugs last year, let alone all the years before that time.
Tuesday, February 21, 1984
For the first time in a week, I did sleep very well last night. There doesn't seem to be anything else to be afraid of. I don't know exactly how my life will change, but after this, it will change.
Monday, February 20, 1984
If Mom dies I need to simplify my life, sell this house, sell or rent part of Mom's house, and build the efficiency apartment in Mom's house. Money wouldn't be a make or break issue then. I realize that I must have some money to live on, but not nearly as much as now.
When I went to see Mom yesterday, she looked at me, but she looked at me as though she weren't seeing me, just staring. Even though I talked to her, she just kept staring at me without uttering a sound. It alarmed me, so, I went to the nurse's station to inquire about her condition, and when I returned to her bedside, she was asleep. I don't know what she saw when she stared at me speechlessly, but that look will haunt me. Her mind is gone, so, I will never know.
I feel absolutely exhausted today. I feel sore all over. I am so tired. It is like something has lived inside my body this last week and has returned it to me, totally spent. It is an effort to even write this page.
Sunday, February 19,1984
I'm the beneficiary on Love's life insurance, the same as he told me. I don't know how much it is yet; I have only been notified that I am the beneficiary. I feel that Love did write his brother in Missouri instructing him that I was to have his ashes, and for some unknown reason, his family didn't want to give them to me. Maybe his family thought it would be too embarrassing somehow, and didn't understand that we would have been buried together. No matter! Certainly his family should have understood that if I was named beneficiary of his insurance, he would have wanted me to have been the beneficiary of all his world possessions, ashes included.
I'm still having trouble with my appetite, but I can get my favorite pair of bluejeans zipped, which I haven't been able to do for at least six months. I'm not sleeping well, and am waking half a dozen times a night.
Saturday, February 18, 1984
I talked to Mom's doctor and he said that Mom's infection is better, but resistant to the drugs administered so far. He has sent another culture of the infection for drug analysis. He also thinks that she has a light case of pneumonia, and has ordered a chest x-ray. I told him about my other world experience that he told me that his wife has experienced communication with her deceased grandmother twice.
Friday, February 17, 1984
Statistics show that the only time recorded that communication between the dead and the living has been achieved is when the brain is in Alpha waves, a very relaxed state of consciousness or Theda waves, sleep. Beta waves are consciousness. I don't know if I would want to communicate with the dead all the time, and I doubt if they would want to communicate with me either. I will never know what they know until after I die, so, I imagine that I would be boring to communicate with. I don't think I want to believe in reincarnation, although it may be possible. I personally don't think that I would want to live any more lives; this one has been enough, whether I've lived others before or now. It is really quite comforting to know that someone, that loved me very much while on this earth, may still be watching over me and even giving me suggestions on how to live the rest of my life in my sleep, without me knowing it. I think it would be marvelous to be able to just think about being a person, and just because you had the thought were automatically transported the person, in zero minutes, zero hours, zero time. That concept is a Wow to me.
I'm lonely. Always before Love was a telephone call away or here with me. He may still be here with me, but I don't realize it. Besides it's boring here.
Love's job was advertised as a vacancy on television tonight.
Thursday, February 16, 1984
I'm a speed reader and can assimilate information with amazing accuracy. Why don't they teach speed reading in high schools like they used to? It was required when I went to school in the late '50s and early '60s. It's been invaluable to me.
I went to my attorney, because now I need a new will. He greeterdme as usual, with a big hug and kiss. No one seems to understand why I have had such bad luck and neither do I. My whole life has been a series of high-highs or low-lows, with the exception of about three years, and no in-betweens. I still am not up to facing people - exactly, and I don't know exactly what I mean by that.
I am doing the necessary errands, the business of my life, and what remains of Love's business details. I am getting sympathy cards now, and am mailing notes to all the people, who I know cared. I cleaned Mom's room and my room, and will do more housework tomorrow. Mom is doing okay, although she is still not eating solid food. I've eaten one whole orange, some soup that I canned last year, a glass of milk and lots of coffee. My appetite is still nil, although last night I was so hungry that I went back for seconds.
Although I have never been able to envision a temple and pearly gates, my background is an extremely religious one. Sitting by the pearly gates forever would be extremely boring for me. I can only picture God as he has been taught to me, a sometime very nasty man that looks like Uncle Sam. I can't relate to anything as malefic as the clergy have portrayed God to be. In fact, the whole concept of Hell is unreal to me, and I don't believe there is one, except in our own minds. How can God be all powerful and yet let Hell exist. Wouldn't it be better for God to destroy the world and everyone in it, rather than chance one person going to Hell forever? I also don't know if I believe in Jesus Christ the way the clergy has portrayed him to be: he may have been the greatest flower child of all time. I was totally out of touch with religion, because of the ideas that I had been taught by the clergy. I can envision a world of free floating spirits, because spirit is personality, wit, charm, specials interests, etc. Everything that a person is, he is because of his spirit. I still have trouble with a mental picture of God, but I can relate to a force of some type. "Star Wars", indeed!
Wednesday, February 15. 1984
I'm more together today and starting to think about the future. Since Love 'came back', I feel much more at peace with the world. My experience of mentally hearing Love Monday night has left me kind of shaken. My basic beliefs have been challenged. I didn't know whether to believe in any type of hereafter. Now I have to believe in some type, although I don't know exactly what type of hereafter to believe in. I have been expanding and re-examining my, until now, limited thinking. I have found out that twenty-seven percent of the America population experience something similar to what I have experienced at some point in their life. Forty-seven percent of widows and widowers have either talked with their loved one, heard them, as I did, say them, felt their presence or were touched by them. I didn't realize that it was nearly as common an occurrence as it is. I'm trying to discover whether I need to hire a medium or a psychiatrist.
I've run errands and found out that my car muffler and tailpipes will all have to be replaced at a cost of $103.00. I just don't have it right now and I hope that the weather gets colder, so that the police will have to keep their car windows rolled up to keep warm, and not hear my muffler situation.
I have started cleaning the house, although I don't feel like doing much to it. It is a mess, since I haven't done anything except mess it up royally since Saturday. Diane and Don have agreed to go to a marriage counselor. Hooray! It's not that I didn't appreciate his company the last several nights or that I minded him staying here, but they are both nice people and have a lot going for them. I feel they would be making a mistake if they divorced.
My mind is still too scattered to be interested in anything. I haven't been reading the papers or watching anything important on TV, or at least what I think of as important. Love's 'coming back' has had an effect on me and my life will never be the same. Although it isn't hard for me to imagine an existence of souls as thought patterns. because what else could they be, souls don't have lips and ears; the whole concept is difficult to envision. Love is still making my life extremely interesting, one way or another.
It's been rainy and dreary today, but I 'm beginning to look around at my physical surroundings and not feel overwhelmed anymore, although I still have periods of total despair.
Tuesday, February 14, 1984
Last night I watched TV, then went to my bedroom to try to read a book, although my concentration is bad. I had a night light and a bedside light on. When I couldn't concentrate any longer, I switched off my bedside light and lay propped up on my pillows just thinking. Suddenly, I heard Love say, "Hello, Baby". The instant I heard it, I knew it was Love. It was if he had walked in the back door, but I hadn't heard him enter the house. It was as if he was in the kitchen or several rooms away, somewhat like a long distance telephone call sounded thirty years ago. I wasn't dreaming and I wasn't asleep. I heard him very plainly, and it was Loves very distinctive voice. I sat straight up in bed, and ran to the kitchen, although I knew he wasn't there. It happened; I can't explain it, but I know it was him. I have always been cynical about people having these types of experiences. Love always told me that he would look after me, and I never doubted him, but I didn't expect him to look after me in death too. Love was here last night, if only for a little while, and is not in his urn at all, at least to me. I feel strangely comforted by the experience, not freightened at all. I will never be the same again. It has been an extremely profound experience. Or maybe I'm just nuts!
It's funny that most of my private thoughts the last few months have been planning a future with and without Love, because I didn't know if he would be able to get the surgery in time to save his life. I suppose I'm more prepared than most would be in that respect. He said he was still undecided about where he would recuperate when I saw him in the hospital after his surgery. Unfortunately his sister came into the room and we didn't get to talk privately anymore. I naturally assumed that we would have the time, while he was in the hospital recovering, to talk about the future. I was wrong and I can't redo it.
My girlfriend, Diane, and her husband, Don, are on the verge of divorce. She says he is running around on her, and that she's got letters to prove it. I didn't realize that their situation was so bad until today, although I knew they were having trouble. I told her to get some counseling for herself, because she sounds like she is ready to crack up. Don is here, spending the night in the room Love used. I also told him that it sounded like they needed some marriage counseling. Their problems are easy for me to see, but then I'm on the outside looking in. She's very possessive and he needs room to breathe. I don't know if he's running around or not. He has always seemed extremely selfish to me and she has always been very demanding. Marriage counseling could help, even though I don't think he has ever cared as much about her as she cares about him. Diane is one of the sweetest, most personable people I know, and I'm sorry she's having such a hard time.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Monday, February 13, 1984
Love's family wants to bury him in the family plot. Unless some written instructions are brought forward, his family will have their way. I had always planned on burying him with me when I die, because he told me that was what he wanted, but did he tell anyone else? What I want is not exactly the standard way of doing things.
Mom is the same. She is still running a temperature. She will take liquids, but not solid food. The nurse told me that most likely she will be all right.
I looked at myself in the mirrow today and I looked horrible. I took a bath and got cleaned up, which I haven't felt like doing since Friday.
I called Cilco and arranged to mail the payment. I made an appointment to get a muffler tomorrow.
I feel like a zombie, and all the people around me appear very animated. How will I ever pick up the pieces? Due to Love's heart problems, closeness became impossible, for him and me.
Before the constant threat of death, we had been inseparable, although he always drove me bananas in some ways. He really was everything that I've ever wanted in a man. He was a homebody, liked timkering around the house, was a great socializer, had a terrific personality, and made life very interesting for me. I was very proud of the way he dressed, looked and acted around people. He was terrific with Mom and helped his own family, when he could. Who could want more? Both Love and I withdrew from each other emotionally after we realized the seriousness of his heart problems. Unfortunately for Love, when he need me, I was not there. I felt I had to distance myself emotionally from Love to save my sanity, in case he did die. Love , towards the end, did the same thing, withdrew physically and emotionally from me. We both knew what was happening and why, talked often about the future, but always in reference to after the surgery. I know that I am going to go through all the stages of idolizing Love, hating his guts for leaving me, depression, manic-depressive episodes and finally, acceptance, and an attempt at a new life. It's already started: I'm wondering how I can possibly keep this place up this summer without Love helping me, although I've done it many other years, but always before I had employment.
My phone bill is going to be enormous with the calls to the veteran's hospitals, other hospitals, relatives, friends. etc. I don't know how I am going to pay for it. I don't think I'll worry about it right now.
My appetite is zero, and I'm beginning the long mourning process again. As my neighbor said "This is the first time you've lost one this way". The mourning process is the same anyway. I think it would be easier than divorce. I'll know where Love is twnety-four hours a day, seven days a week, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year, every year for the rest of my life. Somehow, It's strangely comforting.
Sunday, February 12, 1984
I wrote a poem a year ago when Love had his second heart attack called 'Rebirth' that I think is extremely appropriate now:
There is a measure of life when statistics echo mortality rates, For some few early, for others late. Each of us is different, and it's impossible to juggle the dates; We must admit that time will abate. The scale becomes unbalanced, is lopsided; it hungers, craves amd sates, And it plummets while resounding hate. Oppositedly it descends and reason and sanity communicates Quietly, attempting to relate. Reason becomes steadier, it ebbs and wanes, over reacts and negates, Seemingly calm, assured and sedate. Then discipline controls and future unfolds for those of us whose time waits. On the morrow, assent and goals mate.
Now it has to be my rebirth! I think I'll give a copy of it to Love's family. I'm also going to have copies made of my favorite picture of Love to give to his family, even though I am in it too.
I've been going through all the pictures we took and the poetry Love wrote to me, extremely calmly. I've put several lives behind me so far in this life, and now I have another one to put away too, although this one should be easier than the last one, but that doesn't mean it will be. I don't feel nearly as confused, scared and helpless as I have before. I was the 'love of his life', and he regularly told me so. I hate to think about picking up the pieces, becoming more social, etc. I'm forty years old and don't much give a damn. I've been disillusioned too many times. Life is not the bright promise that I was led to believe it would be when I was younger. It's so hard just to survive.
I have tried to call everyone that knew Love and I as a couple to tell them what happened, so I won't have to explain later. I've also had several calls from friends, who read about it in the morning paper or heard about it where Love worked, and several neighbors stopped by.
Mom's new doctor asked me previously what the family wishes would be in regard to life support for Mom. I spoke to Mom's relatives this morning about it. I called the hospital about Mom, and told her nurse that we, as a family, have discussed it, and don't want Mom kept alive by any extraordinary means. The nurse was perfectly honest with me and told me that in her opinion, Mom will probably be bedridden and dependend from now on.
My muffler blew out last night coming home from the hospitals and I must get that fixed this week,
Love was in the hospital so long, off and on, that my two dogs don't miss him anymore, although they used to wait for him in the yard every night at dusk.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Saturday, February 11, 1984
I went to both Love's and Mom's hospitals today. Mom was sleeping, and even though I woke her up by holding her hand, she quickly fell asleep again, but not before complaining that my cold hand was making her hand cold. I just stood by her bed and looked down on her for a long time while she was sleeping. She looked so frail and tiny all curled up. I called Mom's new doctor's office, but was told that since he was a new father, unless it's an emergency, he isn't available until Monday. I will be most anxious to talk to him about Mom's long-term prognosis.
Love, in marked comparison to Mom, looked great! He was on solid food already. He had plant of places for IV's, I counted five, although none were connected to anything. He was on oxygen, as Mom was, but he was sitting up watching TV and reading tabloid magazines that his sister brought him, At least I don't have to worry about Love now, he's going to be fine. He wants me to visit him everyday until he''s released, but I can't afford the $5.00 worth of gasoline everyday. It will probably be Thursday, if my unemployment check comes on Wednesday, or Friday, if my unemployment check comes on Thursday, before I am able to go to see him again.
I drive so seldom anymore that I am uncomfortable driving. My car was also into dying all the way to both hospitals, although it was alright coming home. I had to rev up the accelerator with my right foot while applying the brake with my left foot, to keep it from dying all the way there.
I'm still into housecleaning today, but I don't feel as anxious as I have felt in the past. I got about ten hours of uninterrupted sleep before I woke up. Boy, I need that, even if I did wake up at 4AM.
4:15PM, Love's hospital called, "come back immediately".
7:39PM, Love is declared legally dead after his heart quit beating at 4:11PM, after open heart massage, and re-examination by surgical team of heart bypass grafts, while on life support systems. He died officially when nothing could be found wrong with the surgery, and support systems were withdrawn under optimal conditions. As he told his sister yesterday, he would see me again, and he did, just once.
Love, in marked comparison to Mom, looked great! He was on solid food already. He had plant of places for IV's, I counted five, although none were connected to anything. He was on oxygen, as Mom was, but he was sitting up watching TV and reading tabloid magazines that his sister brought him, At least I don't have to worry about Love now, he's going to be fine. He wants me to visit him everyday until he''s released, but I can't afford the $5.00 worth of gasoline everyday. It will probably be Thursday, if my unemployment check comes on Wednesday, or Friday, if my unemployment check comes on Thursday, before I am able to go to see him again.
I drive so seldom anymore that I am uncomfortable driving. My car was also into dying all the way to both hospitals, although it was alright coming home. I had to rev up the accelerator with my right foot while applying the brake with my left foot, to keep it from dying all the way there.
I'm still into housecleaning today, but I don't feel as anxious as I have felt in the past. I got about ten hours of uninterrupted sleep before I woke up. Boy, I need that, even if I did wake up at 4AM.
4:15PM, Love's hospital called, "come back immediately".
7:39PM, Love is declared legally dead after his heart quit beating at 4:11PM, after open heart massage, and re-examination by surgical team of heart bypass grafts, while on life support systems. He died officially when nothing could be found wrong with the surgery, and support systems were withdrawn under optimal conditions. As he told his sister yesterday, he would see me again, and he did, just once.
Friday, February 10, 1984
Love has had four coronary bypasses, instead of five, because the fifth artery was to an area of the heart that was too damaged for a new artery to be of any use. Luckily, only a small part of his actual heart is damaged. He will be in the Coronary Intensive Care Unit 'til noon tomorrow. If everything goes well, he'll be in a regular room in the Coronary Unit after that.
I got about two hours sleep before being awakened by the minister who volunteered to call Love's relatives, and kept up-to-date of the progress of the surgery in blow-by-blow descriptions. I didn't go to the hospital, because of Mom, and Love had agreed that I couldn't take her, and I couldn't leave her home alone right now either. I didn't tell him Mom was in the hospital before his surgery, because he didn't need to be upset. If I had been there, he would have known something was wrong.
I called the Township Supervisor and he suggested that I call Cilco, the gas and electric company, to arrange for a level payment plan. I must do something before they turn off the gas and electricity. This has been a wacky winter, going from bitter cold to spring-like weather, and back to bitter cold again. The utility company said that I can pay ten percent of my bill now, and the rest spread over level payments during the summer. Hooray! I've stalled them for another month, if I pay ten percent, and go to their office to sign the level payment plan later. A stay of 'electricution'!
If Mom should become completely bedridden, in a short time I'm going to be a mental case trying to take care of her. I'll be able to afford to hire someone about once a week for four hours to help with bathing and washing her hair, but I will still be on duty twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Fortunately, I have no trouble communicating with her new doctor, in marked contrast to her old doctor. Hopefully, I will have her new doctor's cooperation. I know I'll have to get out from under the responsibility from time to time. Just to be able to sleep straight through one night would be a welcome change. I am so tired, am losing weight, always have an anxious feeling, and was beginning to come unglued until Mom landed in the hospital yesterday. Since she's being well taken care of for awhile, maybe I can get myself back together and out of the depressive state that I've been in lately.
I'm better organized today, although I'm still dead tired. Mom's doctor is supposed to call, but if he doesn't hurry up, I'm going to call and tell his nurse not to call me, and go to bed. I think that I could sleep, sleep, sleep for about twelve hours if I'm not interrupted. I feel very confident that Mom is in the best hospital and under a physician I can entrust her too. It is a welcome relief, after all these years, four years to be exact, to have her under a physician that I feel comfortable with. I called and was told that Mom's new doctor has had a new baby today, and that he will be unavailable unless it's an emergency. That settles it, I am going to bed, and I was told Mom is "in no immediate danger".
I got about two hours sleep before being awakened by the minister who volunteered to call Love's relatives, and kept up-to-date of the progress of the surgery in blow-by-blow descriptions. I didn't go to the hospital, because of Mom, and Love had agreed that I couldn't take her, and I couldn't leave her home alone right now either. I didn't tell him Mom was in the hospital before his surgery, because he didn't need to be upset. If I had been there, he would have known something was wrong.
I called the Township Supervisor and he suggested that I call Cilco, the gas and electric company, to arrange for a level payment plan. I must do something before they turn off the gas and electricity. This has been a wacky winter, going from bitter cold to spring-like weather, and back to bitter cold again. The utility company said that I can pay ten percent of my bill now, and the rest spread over level payments during the summer. Hooray! I've stalled them for another month, if I pay ten percent, and go to their office to sign the level payment plan later. A stay of 'electricution'!
If Mom should become completely bedridden, in a short time I'm going to be a mental case trying to take care of her. I'll be able to afford to hire someone about once a week for four hours to help with bathing and washing her hair, but I will still be on duty twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Fortunately, I have no trouble communicating with her new doctor, in marked contrast to her old doctor. Hopefully, I will have her new doctor's cooperation. I know I'll have to get out from under the responsibility from time to time. Just to be able to sleep straight through one night would be a welcome change. I am so tired, am losing weight, always have an anxious feeling, and was beginning to come unglued until Mom landed in the hospital yesterday. Since she's being well taken care of for awhile, maybe I can get myself back together and out of the depressive state that I've been in lately.
I'm better organized today, although I'm still dead tired. Mom's doctor is supposed to call, but if he doesn't hurry up, I'm going to call and tell his nurse not to call me, and go to bed. I think that I could sleep, sleep, sleep for about twelve hours if I'm not interrupted. I feel very confident that Mom is in the best hospital and under a physician I can entrust her too. It is a welcome relief, after all these years, four years to be exact, to have her under a physician that I feel comfortable with. I called and was told that Mom's new doctor has had a new baby today, and that he will be unavailable unless it's an emergency. That settles it, I am going to bed, and I was told Mom is "in no immediate danger".
Thursday, February 9,1984
Mom went to the bathroom this morning, which roused me from my sleep. After a few minutes she hadn't come ont, and I went to investigate. She had used the toilet and fell asleep on the bathroom floor. I woke her up and she seemed surprised and embarrassed that she was sleeping on the floor. She ate a little breakfast for me, but she said she was tired and wanted to take a nap. I had to run errands and thought that during her nap would be a perfect time. How wrong I was! When I came back, she had fallen out of bed, scrapped both her knees and elbows, couldn't get up and had nose sniffles. I immediately called the new doctor that I had made an appointment with on February twenty-ninth for Mom, and had him paged. He responded right away and I described Mom's symptoms. He wanted me to bring her to his office tomorrow morning, but I insisted tha she be brought to the emergency room today. He said he would look at her, but he didn't know if she would be admitted. I called an ambulance, and had her taken to, what I consider, the best hospital in the area. She was admitted. So far the tests show that she has an infection, which in itself isn't a problem, but it has sent her blood sugar sky high, above 400. The doctor has already discussed with me the possibility that she might not make it. Last night her mind was very clear, and we talked before she went to bed.. It's so difficult to realize that within twenty-four hours, she's in the hospital and might not live.
Love's records have finally arrived at his hospital, and he doesn't have to have another angiogram today. He will undergo bypass surgery tomorrow.
I have another worry too, the natural gas and electric company, Cilco. The temperature is above thirty-two degrees and is supposed to stay above thirty-two degrees for several days.
I have been into frantically cleaning house, because I don't know what else to do to occupy myself. I am a wreck, just waiting for disaster to strike. I don't feel much of anything except freight.
I haven't called Mom's relatives, because they are all elderly, and I don't want to alarm them unnecessarily. I hope I don't have to call them anytime soon.
If I don't get a call about Mom before her new doctor goes to his office, I am supposed to call him.
It's 4:30AM and I am still up, sleepless, worried and scared. A minister has agreed to call me during Love's surgery to let me know about everything that's going on. I am afraid to go to sleep, because I am so tired that I might not hear the phone.
My thoughts are so jumbled tody, that I can't concentrate on any one subject very long, and might as well not try. Over and out!
Love's records have finally arrived at his hospital, and he doesn't have to have another angiogram today. He will undergo bypass surgery tomorrow.
I have another worry too, the natural gas and electric company, Cilco. The temperature is above thirty-two degrees and is supposed to stay above thirty-two degrees for several days.
I have been into frantically cleaning house, because I don't know what else to do to occupy myself. I am a wreck, just waiting for disaster to strike. I don't feel much of anything except freight.
I haven't called Mom's relatives, because they are all elderly, and I don't want to alarm them unnecessarily. I hope I don't have to call them anytime soon.
If I don't get a call about Mom before her new doctor goes to his office, I am supposed to call him.
It's 4:30AM and I am still up, sleepless, worried and scared. A minister has agreed to call me during Love's surgery to let me know about everything that's going on. I am afraid to go to sleep, because I am so tired that I might not hear the phone.
My thoughts are so jumbled tody, that I can't concentrate on any one subject very long, and might as well not try. Over and out!
Wednesday, February 8, 1984
A nurse at Love's hospital called to tell me that Love was moved from a coronary care room to the Coronary Intensive Care Unit this morning. Love's sister called this evening and told me that he had another heart attack, but his condition had stabilized again. She said his records should arrive at the hospital tonight, and that the doctors have finally decided to do the necessary bypass surgery tomorrow or Friday. Why have they waited this long? Let's hope Love lives until they do the surgery. Every hour is a miracle now! Love told his sister to tell me that he will see me again.
I called a professional nursing service to find out what to do about Mom's poor appetite. They told me about a liquid product on the market that has more then enough protein, vitamins and minerals, and recommended it as the next step in her home care. Why didn't her doctor discuss that with me? The service also told me that when she gets to the point that she won't drink the liquid nutrients, a Registered Nurse could come to my house and insert an intravenous solution. The nurse wouldn't stay if I was home, and she could teach me to disconnect the IV when it was empty. I was also informed that it is covered by her insurance and Medicare. Mom's doctor has mentioned nothing about these available services, why not? I have had to find out everything that I've found out about equipment, services and options by myself. I'm glad that I quit procrastinating and made an appointment with another doctor for Mom. The doctor, Mom refused to go to because she thought he was trying to kill her, recommended this doctor. She needs a doctor who is sensitive to me, as well as her needs.
I gave Mom a shower and washed her hair today. When she came here, her hair was a totally different color than it was after I washed it the first time. She hadn't been taking care of herself at home. When her medicine becomes regulated and she returns home, I'll have to check on her all the time.
I talked to an old friend, who lives in a nearby suburb. it lifted my spirits! Everything has seemed to be going wrong in my life for so long now, it's comforting just to hear a familiar voice on the phone.
I have tended to let the house and myself go, because I'm always tending to Mom now, trying to keep her clean, trying to constantly feed her, etc. I am changing very rapidly now, as Mom's conditions change, and I am not sure that I like all these changes, in myself, as well as in Mom. When she has a good day, I think that she'll live a long time and be fine eventually, but then her bad days shock me into the realization that she may not have that long. I felt the same way about her mother, and it was a surprise to me that her mother lived over 15 years. It's hard for me to realize that Mom may very well do the same.
I called a professional nursing service to find out what to do about Mom's poor appetite. They told me about a liquid product on the market that has more then enough protein, vitamins and minerals, and recommended it as the next step in her home care. Why didn't her doctor discuss that with me? The service also told me that when she gets to the point that she won't drink the liquid nutrients, a Registered Nurse could come to my house and insert an intravenous solution. The nurse wouldn't stay if I was home, and she could teach me to disconnect the IV when it was empty. I was also informed that it is covered by her insurance and Medicare. Mom's doctor has mentioned nothing about these available services, why not? I have had to find out everything that I've found out about equipment, services and options by myself. I'm glad that I quit procrastinating and made an appointment with another doctor for Mom. The doctor, Mom refused to go to because she thought he was trying to kill her, recommended this doctor. She needs a doctor who is sensitive to me, as well as her needs.
I gave Mom a shower and washed her hair today. When she came here, her hair was a totally different color than it was after I washed it the first time. She hadn't been taking care of herself at home. When her medicine becomes regulated and she returns home, I'll have to check on her all the time.
I talked to an old friend, who lives in a nearby suburb. it lifted my spirits! Everything has seemed to be going wrong in my life for so long now, it's comforting just to hear a familiar voice on the phone.
I have tended to let the house and myself go, because I'm always tending to Mom now, trying to keep her clean, trying to constantly feed her, etc. I am changing very rapidly now, as Mom's conditions change, and I am not sure that I like all these changes, in myself, as well as in Mom. When she has a good day, I think that she'll live a long time and be fine eventually, but then her bad days shock me into the realization that she may not have that long. I felt the same way about her mother, and it was a surprise to me that her mother lived over 15 years. It's hard for me to realize that Mom may very well do the same.
Tuesday, February 7, 1984
President Reagon glowingly remarked about a time, long ago, as if he believes that we could magically go back to those days or would want to. My dad, who died at the age of seventy-seven in 1976, referred to the past in glowing terms for about five years before he died. Even with all of his glowing references about women's bustles and horse-drawn carriages, he didn't want to live that way again, and was glad to have the twentieth century just around the corner. President Reagon said he is trying to bring the United States Government back to those days and the United States people with it. He talks about returning to out roots, but our roots are buried in poverty, one-room shacks, plagues, malnutrition, undereducation and despair. I remember my Grandpa's house. I had to sit quite close to a wood burning stove to keep the front side of me warm. If I wanted to warm the back side, I had to turn around to sit. Ditto, where Grandma lived. Grandma lived with her oldest child because Grandpa beat her, and she gradually lost her mind, probably due to the abuse. I remember the smell of the outhouse, and the Sears catalog to wipe with. Reagon said that since he graduated from school in 1932, his generation strayed from the basic values, but my Dad didn't stray from basic values and was well aware that times were much better than when he was younger. The parents of every generation since time began, has strived to make things better for their children, rather than the same or worse for their children. My child may never know the joys of home ownership, of being able to finance a new car or having job security. I may never be able to finance another new car, have a decent job again and may end up losing my home. President Reagon has returned me to my roots, and my child, as well. I can understand that he thinks that less money per household will unite the family again by keeping marriages intact (my Grandma and Grandpa were never divorced), and having several generations of the family share the same residence, but the consequences of this concept are horrendous, at best, with more battered children, wives and elderly people. Married children with their own children being forced economically, to live with their elderly parents and grandparents deprives everyone concerned, from infant to great grandparent, of independence and freedom, the very same rights for which democracy stands. Great grandparents, grandparents and parents alike don't want their children and children's children living with them, but this is the back to basics attitude that the Reagon Administration has taken. Certainly the children, parents, grandparents and great grandparents don't want back to the basics, but it is being foisted upon us, due to economic deprivation. Many parents, grandparents and great grandparents won't allow or don't have space or finances to allow their younger relatives to move into their homes. Many parents, grandparents and great grandparents would be 'downright mean' to their younger relatives that live with them, the same as it has always been when different generation lived together, and there isn't any need to paint a glowing verbal picture about it. When my Dad was young, there was as much or more child abuse, wife beating and mistreatment of the elderly, and abuse by the elderly on the younger relatives as now. Parents beating their children, husbands beating their wives and abuse to or by the elderly was commonplace, and every child, wife, elderly and every other person in the household knew their place, because if they didn't , they knew the same backhand or fist would be used on them that regularly back-handed or punched the other family members. My Mom and Dad were neglected and abused as children by today's standards, as were their parents, and grandparents, etc. Who wants the basic values and roots of fifty or more years ago?
Monday, February 6, 1984
The woman that I help care for and refer to as Mom has no resemblance to my 'other' Mother, and that's the reason I can do such a thorough job of taking care of her. My Mother became a raving madwoman after my Dad died and certainly wasn't a stable personality before that time. I have very few recollections of the first thirteen years of my childhood and the recollections that I do have are almost invariably when Mother wasn't around. I'm quite sure the reason I don't remember is the mental abuse perpetrated on me by my Mother, and perhaps, unwittingly by my Dad. Mother has always wanted to live in the country, away from other people, and Dad was glad to live a reclusive life, and not have to deal with Mother's behavior in front of other people. Fortunately, I have disassociated the last twenty-seven years from the first part of my life, quite successfully, although I have some strange forebodings that I have no explanation for. It was only after I had escaped from my very controlled environment that I have clear recollections. I can understand why, because of what I can remember after I was twelve or thirteen. My Mother didn't sleep! She would run the vacuum at three o'clock in the morning, even on school nights, just to wake someone, usually me. If she couldn't wake me up any other way, she's come in my room in the middle of the night and start talking loudly to me for hours. Mother only slept about four hours, maybe, and anyone who slept more than that, was "sleeping their life away"., which naturally couldn't be tolerated. When I was about thirteen, I could physically extricate myself from my home life and have tried desperately to personally extricate myself ever since. All of my material success has come into being because of my desperate need to remain distanced from my Mother. It is only since she has been on anti psychotic medicine, the last five months, that she's pleasant to be around and is someone totally unlike my 'other' Mother. As I grew older, my Dad and I became somewhat close, as close as two people with a forty-four year age difference could be. He used to tell me "She's nuts", motioning with his index finger and creating a spiral movement towards his head, but it wasn't until after he died that she became a raving madwoman, and I had to try to deal with her craziness full force. Even now, I have some irrational fears, examples: a knock on the door when I'm not expecting any (it might be my Mother trying to invade my artificially, carefully contrived island), the phone ringing (it's a verbal tirade from my Mother, and trying to preciously preserve nine and a half hours for sleep, whether I'm able to sleep that long or not. Mom is doing better today, but still can't handle a fork or spoon very well, so, we are into finger food. At least, she's trying to eat by herself.
Love's brother from Missouri has spent his utility money this month on gasoline for his car to be able to come and visit Love. I think he also fears that this may be the last time he will see Love alive, and to hell with the utility companies.
I have made out two different resumes and a covering letter for the future. I think I have finally quit procrastinating. I need to make another covering letter, and be sure that I have enough stamps, envelopes and postcards to mail to prospective employers, that have to be somewhere out there
Love's brother from Missouri has spent his utility money this month on gasoline for his car to be able to come and visit Love. I think he also fears that this may be the last time he will see Love alive, and to hell with the utility companies.
I have made out two different resumes and a covering letter for the future. I think I have finally quit procrastinating. I need to make another covering letter, and be sure that I have enough stamps, envelopes and postcards to mail to prospective employers, that have to be somewhere out there
Sunday, February 5, 1984
Love has had five heart attacks in a row since Friday morning. A nurse told me that if they can stabilize his condition, he will be released in a few days or a week. He is very subdued: he seems very distant, as if he were just waiting for the heart attack that kills him. He has lost his zest for life and seems to be accepting the inevitable, the same as I am beginning to accept the inevitable about Love's future. He's received six shots of blood thinner into his stomach. It's ironic that the VA hospital wouldn't do surgery January twenty-sixth, because he was taking aspirin to thin his blood, and that seems to be what was keeping him alive. Now, maybe they'll have an excuse not to do the surgery again, because he's had blood thinners. Another two or more weeks of waiting for surgery, and he has already lived two weeks longer than the VA hospital expected him to live. Love has informed me that he wished he had died during his fourth heart attack last Friday, because it's going to happen sooner or later, and he would just as soon get it over with. He reiterated that his life insurance at work is made out with me as the beneficiary. We are supposed to be civilized in this country, and not torture our people, but yet Love is dying by degrees and nothing is being done, except his condition is being stabilized, even through all the doctors and hospitals know what is wrong with him. His records from the VA hospital are not here yet. In this world of computers, computers, computers, why aren't his records here? Why aren't his records being sent by one of the delivery companies that feature four-hour or overnight delivery, if computers can't send them.
Hooray! Mom is trying to eat by herself today. Since last Wednesday I have had to feed her, that is to try to feed her, but she hasn't had mind enough to eat much, or indeed, even realize that she was being fed. She realized that her bathrobe is a bathrobe today and wasn't trying to invisibly sew it, even though she was still screwing around with it. It was still a battle to get her to eat, and I had to remind her to chew and drink, but she was better today. At least, her mind was good enough today that when I told her to "quit screwing around with your bathrobe and take a bite", she did, and when I told her to "chew your food and swallow it", she did. She complained about her back and legs hurting, which is probably arthritis, and the only thing I could do was give her a pain pill. She still walks and lifts herself and keeps her muscles strengthened, I don't need her bedridden any sooner than necessary.
When everything is over, I'm going to allow time for me to have a week's mental breakdown. I deserve one!
Hooray! Mom is trying to eat by herself today. Since last Wednesday I have had to feed her, that is to try to feed her, but she hasn't had mind enough to eat much, or indeed, even realize that she was being fed. She realized that her bathrobe is a bathrobe today and wasn't trying to invisibly sew it, even though she was still screwing around with it. It was still a battle to get her to eat, and I had to remind her to chew and drink, but she was better today. At least, her mind was good enough today that when I told her to "quit screwing around with your bathrobe and take a bite", she did, and when I told her to "chew your food and swallow it", she did. She complained about her back and legs hurting, which is probably arthritis, and the only thing I could do was give her a pain pill. She still walks and lifts herself and keeps her muscles strengthened, I don't need her bedridden any sooner than necessary.
When everything is over, I'm going to allow time for me to have a week's mental breakdown. I deserve one!
Saturday, February 4, 1984
Love has suffered another heart attack this morning, and is in a Coronary Intensive Care Unit at a nearby hospital. Unfortunately again, not a hospital that can do the much needed surgery. His condition is not stabilized yet.
I caught Mom trying to go to the bathroom in the middle bedroom and unable to find the bathroom. I've only been able to feed her one banana, one-half bowl of cereal with artificial sweetener and milk, one glass of juice and two glasses of milk in six hours. I was still trying to feed her breakfast at lunch time. She is forgetting that she has food in her mouth, forgetting to chew her food and forgetting to swallow it. I've reminded her to chew and swallow all day, and we still have dinner to go,. Each day I'm spending more and more time ministering to Mom. She was spitting her food out every time I put a bite in her mouth, so, it was time to give up for awhile. She was also hiding her food in her bathrobe. She way very cantankerous about eating her dinner, and taking her medicines, but I think I finally got her pills down her. I though she might be better after her medicine tonight, but she wasn't, so now, I've spent about eight hours today telling Mom to take a bite, to chew her food and to swallow it. I'm sick of hearing my own voice. Her mind is so bad some days.
The men that were hurt in the latest Commonwealth Edison explosion have filed a lawsuit against the company for being negligent and careless by allowing coal dust to accumulate, and for not following the recommended safety precautions. If they win the lawsuit, that settlement will come out of customer's pockets.
A town in Michigan is trying to pass an ordinance requiring all the people who pass through the town to wear seat belts, if they are sitting in the front seat of the vehicle, or pay a $10.00 fine. It's just another ridiculous mandate with police gestapo tactics to raise revenues by infringing on the freedom of the general populace. I'm picturing extended steering wheels and clutch and brake pedals in the back seat to avoid sitting in the front seat at all.
The American auto makers have sold more new cars this January than they have since January 1973. That's good news, indeed, but I wonder if their sales in other months of other years haven't surpassed this January's record. My car is eleven years old, and now I think, unless the economy changes, it will be an antique before, and if, I will ever be able to afford another new car. There isn't any way it would pass a safety test, but there isn't any money for repairs and I have to have transportation, because of Mom. I wonder if people are buying last year's cars that weren't sold and are now on sale. They would still be new cars. I bought my one and only new car after the next year's model came out, and it was cheaper.
I caught Mom trying to go to the bathroom in the middle bedroom and unable to find the bathroom. I've only been able to feed her one banana, one-half bowl of cereal with artificial sweetener and milk, one glass of juice and two glasses of milk in six hours. I was still trying to feed her breakfast at lunch time. She is forgetting that she has food in her mouth, forgetting to chew her food and forgetting to swallow it. I've reminded her to chew and swallow all day, and we still have dinner to go,. Each day I'm spending more and more time ministering to Mom. She was spitting her food out every time I put a bite in her mouth, so, it was time to give up for awhile. She was also hiding her food in her bathrobe. She way very cantankerous about eating her dinner, and taking her medicines, but I think I finally got her pills down her. I though she might be better after her medicine tonight, but she wasn't, so now, I've spent about eight hours today telling Mom to take a bite, to chew her food and to swallow it. I'm sick of hearing my own voice. Her mind is so bad some days.
The men that were hurt in the latest Commonwealth Edison explosion have filed a lawsuit against the company for being negligent and careless by allowing coal dust to accumulate, and for not following the recommended safety precautions. If they win the lawsuit, that settlement will come out of customer's pockets.
A town in Michigan is trying to pass an ordinance requiring all the people who pass through the town to wear seat belts, if they are sitting in the front seat of the vehicle, or pay a $10.00 fine. It's just another ridiculous mandate with police gestapo tactics to raise revenues by infringing on the freedom of the general populace. I'm picturing extended steering wheels and clutch and brake pedals in the back seat to avoid sitting in the front seat at all.
The American auto makers have sold more new cars this January than they have since January 1973. That's good news, indeed, but I wonder if their sales in other months of other years haven't surpassed this January's record. My car is eleven years old, and now I think, unless the economy changes, it will be an antique before, and if, I will ever be able to afford another new car. There isn't any way it would pass a safety test, but there isn't any money for repairs and I have to have transportation, because of Mom. I wonder if people are buying last year's cars that weren't sold and are now on sale. They would still be new cars. I bought my one and only new car after the next year's model came out, and it was cheaper.
Friday, February 3, 1984
I have a mouse problem. I have had a mouse problem other years, but I always had Mr. Cat until this year. Mr. Cat, failing in vision at the age of twelve, got run over in traffic. Actually he liked the heat from the pavement and would lay on it, and the neighbors watched for him, but someone, who wasn't a neighbor, didn't. Even in bad winters, Mr. Cat always kept my mouse problems under control. He was my chief exterminator! The mice now bypass all the mouse poison and mouse traps and head straight for the dog food bowl. They grab a chunk of dog food, head back for their den, rolling the dog food as they go merrily on their way, whether anyone is in the kitchen with the dog food bowl or not. I have put traps beside the piano, behind the dishwasher, underneath the sink, underneath the frig, inside the stove broiler, inside the stove burner section and on route to the dog bowl at various places. Nothing has eradicated the mice. At a time in my life when I'm trying to simplify everything, my mouse problem is getting worse. I hope they go outside next summer and that next winter isn't harsh enough to drive them inside again, if I'm still here.
I have always had someone to tell me, and who knew enough to try to tell me, what I should do about any particular problem, until my Dad died and a friend left the area. Even though our opinions may have differed drastically, a second opinion gave me options, and now I feel that I have none. I have an intense dislike for Mom's doctor, and the feeling is mutual. He thinks I don't want what is best for her, and I know he doesn't care what is best for her, or he wouldn't have let her live in her schizophrenic would for years. Love has told me to switch doctors, and I know he's right. I must do it before Mom's February examination, but I am procrastinating and it's because I don't have anyone else that I completely one-hundred percent trust, telling me the same thing as Love.
It seems like everything is already dead or dying around me, Love excluded temporarily, and I don't feel that I have anyone else now.
Love has been released from the hospital, and supposedly in a stable condition. What's going to happen to him next is anybodies guess.
Thursday, February 2, 1984
Love is in the hospital again. He woke up having chest pains, but they went away and he went to work. He looked so white when he arrived at work that his boss insisted that he go to the company doctor, who immediately put him in the hospital, but not into a hospital that can do the necessary surgery. I fear they are going to let him die. Stabilizing his condition doesn't correct the situation, and one of these times, his condition won't stabilize and he'll die. By the time he dies, his hospital bills are going to be enormous, as enormous or more than the cost of the needed surgery. The government will lose a taxpayer, who has twenty-five more years to work and pay taxes. Love had more pain after dinner, and the staff told him that his heart monitor was behaving erratically.
President Reagon's own chief economic advisor is criticizing Reagon's new budget, and says that taxes must be raised. The Budget Director say we are, as a nation, on the eve if bamkrucy. The government has had to borrow so much money from the banks that the average person can't afford to borrow for the purchase of businesses, business expansion, homes, cars, appliances, etc. New laws, even some very stupid laws, that require police gestapo tactics, are being made with the direct purpose of raising revenue. New licenses are being mandated on the general public and old license fees are being raised.No taxes on certain items are being mandated on the general public , and old taxes are being raised. Instead of cutting income taxes, when everyone understands that taxes will have to be raised, why not raise them substantially, pay on the national debt, and stop this partisanship of special, singled out groups, , individuals, occupations and businesses? Who would really notice a few dollars weekly increase in taxes. I want to be free in this country and don't care about tax increases, as long as people aren't being hurt and restricted as they are now. I see all of these mandates as infringing upon my freedom.\
We are being artificially poisoned again, and who knows how long it's been going on with this particular poison, E.D.B. Fortunately I bake everything from scratch and use organic, natural food. No insecticides are used on organic gardening. Unfortunately oranges from Mexico are poisoned with E.D.B., so, that particular fruit will be eliminated from my diet, as well as orange juice. We import some of our oranges from Mexico, and I don't know which are imported and which ones aren't.
A friend, Rob, stopped by to see how I was and if I would be home tonight. He has his children and is going to take them to dinner at his parent's house. I told him to stop by afterward. He is divorced, only working part-time and living with his parents. He is one of the people not on any type of government statistic. He's very good with Mom and very honest; both things impress me.
Wednesday, February 1, 1984
CHAPTER 2, FEBRUARY
I took Mom to the eye doctor, the same one who performed her cataract surgery, because I'm concerned about her eyesight. He said her eyes tested twenty-twenty with glasses, but she has a gradual deterioration of the arteries, and that her senility problem didn't help. I was tempted to tell him that it wasn't just senility, but her medication causes mental fogginess too, but it's better than the madwoman she used to be, but I didn't.
I also took her to the bank, so that I will know what is where, etc. The bank personnel were wonderful, and said they had many depositors like her, gave me access to her lock box. and permission to write her checks for her. She was supposed to sign her name on three documents, but could only manage to sign twice. The bank personnel recognized the problem and said that since they had seen her and knew her condition, they would accept two signatures in lieu of three. One employee told me that she admired me for taking care of her and not sticking her in a nursing home.
Now that I'm sending inquiries to the insurance companies, I should know soon how much insurance I will need on her, if she dies in the next couple of years. If I don't have some insurance, I won't be able to complete the restoration of her house, and I'm hyst beginning that project.
I went to the grocery store for myself and spent all but $5.00 of my food stamps. I don't receive anymore until the twenty-seventh of February. I gain weight the first two weeks of any given month and lose it the last two weeks of the month.
I heard on the news that in 1983, one out of every three people received some type of financial assistance, which coincides with my suspicion that the government is grossly distorting the facts, Democrats and Republicans alike. If the total Population knew the true facts, would the government have a revolt on it's hands?
I have this lump in my chest that says to me I'm extremely anxious about the future. I can't seem to shake the 'doom and gloom' attitude, nor get rid of the lump in my chest.
I should get my unemployment check tomorrow, and I'm in dire need of it.
When I moved here, my gas and electric bell was one-fifty of my house payment, but now it is the same as the house payment.
Friday, April 24, 2009
Tuesday, January 31, 1984
Love really must have had a light stroke, because the cardiologist where Love works sent for his records from the veteran's hospital yesterday, and is going to try to get him into surgery somewhere in the area next week, but there isn't any hospital or surgeon that has to do surgery, if there's not any insurance.
I caught my neighbor across the street throwing snowballs into my yard today. trying to get my dogs to chase them, which my dogs did. My neighbor said that he had 'cabin fever', from being laid-off too long. He's been laid-off over one and a half years now, with no hope of being called back by the company ever. He is going to school to learn heating and refrigeration, but there are at least six new heating and refrigeration businesses already started by laid-off people here lately. One year, him and his wife paid one-half on my pool. That year I was having financial difficulties, although not nearly the difficulties I am having this year. I was just between jobs and there were jobs then. The gas and electric company was threatening to shut my service off, but my neighbor told me not to worry, that I could run an extension cord across the street to run the pool filter. In the summer I could live without electricity, except for the pool filter, especially since I've learned how to live without a decent frig with freezer. I got a job and caught up on my electric bills and it wasn't shut off, but that wasn't the point I was trying to make. I have the most wonderful neighbors in the world, bar none! My neighbor used to be afraid of my dogs, but found out the summer we shared the pool, that they are gentle. He said that he had lived across the street from me all those years terrified of my dogs, but that they were just big marshmallows. He developed a special game with my male dog. He would stand in the middle of the pool with a ball and throw it toward my big male, and my male would bounce the ball back to him to the middle of the pool with his nose. My neighbor and my male dog played that game many days that summer. It always reminded me of the seal acts I've seen on TV and was entertainment for everyone, including the onlookers.
My female has tapeworms. I got some medicine for it at the store, and hope it takes care of the problem. I understand that tapeworms are caused from a dog swallowing a flea, and the tapeworm larva hatch while going through the dog's digestive system. We've had a bumper crop of fleas here the last two years. I think I have just recently gotten rid of them from last summer. I have read that Brewer's yeast sprinkled on dog food works, and that a light over a bowl of water with dish soap in the water also works. Maybe I'll try the Brewer's yeast next summer.
My male dog has had an ear infection, but I've been trying to correct the problem by keeping his ears very clean. I also have him roll on his side, tell him to 'stay', pour hydrogen peroxide into his ear and let it bubble for a few seconds. It seems to be working, without having the expense of going to the vet.
Monday, January 30, 1984
Mom paid her repairman, but we'll have to wait until next month to buy the wall paper and paint for her kitchen. At least those items should be economical, because I can do the wallpapering and painting myself. The cabinets need to be refinished too, and she can probably afford the varnish stripper and polyurethane to refinish them next month also.
For my last Christmas present, I treated myself to having my refrigerator/freezer repaired. I bought the compressor last summer, while I was working, for $160.00, $10.00 over cost. I didn't have the money over Christmas to fix it, but I robbed Peter to pay Paul, and that's why I'm so far behind on my Cilco bill. Mom's repairman installed the compressor and switches for $150.00. It sounds like he made money, but he didn't, because he made seven trips to my house and three trips locally at a cost in gas of $5.00 a trip, plus one hour traveling time each trip. The parts, not including the already purchased compressor, were $20.00. He spent roughly twenty hours working on it, not including traveling time. In other words, he ended up at about $2.50 and hour. It needs further attention though, because it shocks me when I touch it with wet hands.
I had been living without my big refrigerator/freezer since July 1982, when it conked out . No one who has always had a big refrigerator/freezer could possibly understand what it is to live without one, especially for one and a half years. A fortune is spent on buying ice cubes, storing food in the summer is impossible. I wound up spending another fortune in gas going to and from the grocers and restaurants for ice. In the winter, it wasn't quite as bad because I could put perishables outside to freeze, but unfortunately, everything outside freezes quickly. Food stamps don't do much good inside a non-working frig or inside a miniature refrigerator either. I had a very small frig in the garage, but it was totally inadequate.
For years I have desperately needed a bathrobe, but in comparison to a refrigerator, I could live without a bathrobe, slippers, PJs, bras and panties for the rest of my life. My poor patched, holey, frayed bathrobe, with no rear-end left in it to patch, will just have to wait another year.
In the last year and one-half, everything has needed some kind of repair: stove, washer, dryer, dishwasher, bathtub, bath shower walls, bathroom sink, kitchen sink, toilet seat, floor, cabinets, walls, bed , furniture, garage and pool. I am amazed that on the little amount of money I have made, everything is in pretty good shape now. My utility bills are even reasonable in comparison to other peoples, because I now have tinfoil walls, and it seems to radiate heat in the winter or maybe just stops drafts, even if it does sound kinky. In 1982 I was working three part-time jobs, so that explains where I got the money to fix almost everything. I had enough money to remodel everything I wanted to remodel, and assumed that I would have enough money to finish everything, but then, I got laid-off from two part-time jobs within two months, and ended up with one part-time job in the summer.
From then on, it's been rob Peter to pay Paul and it's had to be utilities this year. I have an appointment with HEAP on February 28th, and I know with my income, that I will qualify for the assistance.
Sunday, January 29, 1984
Love is quite subdued today. He is not alright. I don't know how he will work tomorrow, but he will try. He has to survive, no matter what's wrong with him. It's hard to watch him work so much just to left a glass. We've had a nice quiet day for a change. I think he appreciates me. We read the morning paper over coffee, had a nice lunch, and a nice dinner, then relaxed and watched TV. His hair is a mess because he can't hold his hair dryer in one hand, while brushing his hair with the other hand. He managed to get dressed and shaved, but almost fell out of the car, because he leans on his hand to get get out of the car, and his hand isn't registering feeling. Nevertheless, he is better than yesterday.
Mom turned the water on again and forgot to shut it off, but I caught it, so, the bathroom carpet is still drying out, not drenched again.
Believe it or not, the Galesburg Police Department, the Rock Island County Sheriff Department and the Illinois Division of Criminal Investigation are bragging about a communal operation that seized drugs with a street value of $30,000.00. I wonder how much it cost all three departments to nab a paultry $30,000.00 worth?
Reagon's going to run for President of the United States again. If people vote their pocketbooks, Reagon doesn't stand a chance, at least not in this state. Unfortunately, the people whose pocketbooks are the worst affected are the homeless, and without a thirty day residency; they won't be allowed to vote. The new and old poor won't have an easy time voting either, because it takes a car, carfare, taxi fare or bus fare to get to the polling places. If that isn't available, and it isn't to people on any type of assistance, it takes a telephone to be able to call someone to take them, and that phone or money for the phone call also isn't available to people on any type of assistance. Walking to the polls is not an option to everyone either, especially in a severe winter.
It is snowing, and sleeting and snowing. More time to arrange to pay my skyrocketing utility bill.
Mom's repairman called to tell me the latest about how much Mom's kitchen will cost. The counter top, plumbing, florescent light and preparing the surface between the counter top and cabinets for wallpaper will be $348.13. With wallpaper, it is about $95.00 more than I expected. Last month I fixed her bathroom myself and expected it to cost about $160.00, but it ended up costing $240.00. Her repairman had a lot of extra work to do that I didn't realize would need to be done in the kitchen. He had to buy wood stripping for the back of the counter top, and had to do a lot more plumbing than either one of us expected, and needed additional plumbing parts, which are expensive.
Saturday, January 28, 1984
Mom has flooded the bathroom. Squish, squish! I was busy getting lunch and washing dishes in the kitchen. and Mom went to the bathroom, turned on the water to get a drink and forgot to turn it off. By the time I realized that water was running in another room besides the kitchen, it was too late. I think it will dry out within a few days. At least I can save on electricity, because I won't have to run the humidifier for Mom. Mom has done nothing but sleep today, and hasn't eaten very much either. At least I keep trying to get her to eat, which sometimes takes up to two or more hours per meal, and a nursing home wouldn't have the time to do. In a nursing home, there are six to fourteen patients assigned to every Nursing Aide.
Someone in one of our nearby cities has conducted a door-to-door poll, and has come to the same conclusion that I have. The government is lying to us. Last week the unofficial unemployment rate was twenty-five percent, when the
Department of Labor cited their statistics of seventeen percent unemployment here. The nearby independent city poll showed twenty-eight and seven-tenths percent total unemployment and twenty and eighty-five hundreths percent working part-time. That's forty-nine and one-half percent of the population unemployed or underemployed. One of the residents is quoted as saying, "I love this town, but I can't live on love".
The average person,. according to new government statistics, is watching TV seven hours and two minutes a day. Children can't be watching nearly that much television, since they're in school all day. It can't be the person who has a job, since they're at work all day. But yet each person in the United States is watching over seven hours of TV a day. That's thirty-five hours and fifteen minutes a week. The unemployed and underemployed are watching it, that's who.
Here's more government statistics that I think are somewhat significant. Seventy thousand more millionaires now exist than when Reagon too office, and fifteen percent of the population is below the poverty line, the highest level since the depression in 1932. I think the latter is erroneous, I think it's more.
Love is talking better, but misses his mouth with food, can't handle kitchen utensils with one hand, has trouble buttoning his buttons and trying his shoes still. He also can't feel his thumb and some of his fingers.
I am finally delving into Mom's personal financial affairs and have ordered some additional insurance, just to clear up her estate. I'm still not sure what coverage she has, and have letters to post tomorrow to try to find out. I can't afford to put my home in jeopardy, while I'm trying to clear her house. Robbing Peter to pay Paul just doesn't get it, and eventually the Piper has to be paid. Hopefully, I'll find everything out within a month or two. I may not need the additional insurance, but until I find out, I would be foolish not to spend the money to protect everything.
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