SAM HAS A NEW JOB RESPONSIBILITY. He’s already my full-time caregiver, my chef, my entertainer and my backscratcher … and now he’s also my hair stylist, because this afternoon I asked Sam to grab a scissors and cut off my hair! It had grown well below my shoulders … and that’s a huge annoyance for a bedridden coot such as yours truly. Apparently he did a fine job, because I can move my head again without using both hands to yank my hair out of the way. I’m going to order a wall plaque that says: “MISTER SAM OF BEVERLY HILLS.”
I’M SICK OF FONTS. I never thought it would happen, but after collecting fonts for nearly 35 years I no longer have any interest … especially since I’ve got more than 8,000 fonts installed on my iMac! Truth is, I can’t remember any of their names, there’s nothing “new” any more, and the market is completely flooded. Meh. The only fonts that occasionally perk me up are quirky hand-lettered typefaces that show some originality or a dingbats font with useful and funny clipart. That said, though, I’ll continue with my Marcy’s Parade of Fonts feature because a few of you would have a brain hemorrhage if I quit, right?
IT’S SHOWTIME. I discovered tonight that Dish Network has added all the Showtime channels to our movie package … and for free, apparently, because Sam and I definitely didn’t order them. While I’m sure there’s a time limit (maybe a month?) for this, I scanned the listings as far ahead as I could and recorded every movie on Showtime that Sam and I might enjoy. And even a few that we probably wouldn’t enjoy, because they’re all free and why the hell not. (We can always delete them.) Start the popcorn!
I’M SICK OF FONTS. I never thought it would happen, but after collecting fonts for nearly 35 years I no longer have any interest … especially since I’ve got more than 8,000 fonts installed on my iMac! Truth is, I can’t remember any of their names, there’s nothing “new” any more, and the market is completely flooded. Meh. The only fonts that occasionally perk me up are quirky hand-lettered typefaces that show some originality or a dingbats font with useful and funny clipart. That said, though, I’ll continue with my Marcy’s Parade of Fonts feature because a few of you would have a brain hemorrhage if I quit, right?
IT’S SHOWTIME. I discovered tonight that Dish Network has added all the Showtime channels to our movie package … and for free, apparently, because Sam and I definitely didn’t order them. While I’m sure there’s a time limit (maybe a month?) for this, I scanned the listings as far ahead as I could and recorded every movie on Showtime that Sam and I might enjoy. And even a few that we probably wouldn’t enjoy, because they’re all free and why the hell not. (We can always delete them.) Start the popcorn!
Finney began his career at the Royal Shakespeare Company before making his mark in film. His first big film break came in Saturday Night and Sunday Morning (1960). He went on to star in Tom Jones (1963), Two for the Road (1967), Scrooge (1970), Murder on the Orient Express (1974), Annie (1982), Erin Brockovich (2000) and Skyfall (2012) … among others. He made 65 films in all and also starred on stage in both the U.S. and London.
Finney was married three times and had a son with his first wife, actress Jane Wenham. He was diagnosed with kidney cancer in 2007, after which he completely disappeared from public view. I really can’t say I blame him. Kidney cancer is a lot to deal with, and Brompton must be a fine place to hide out.
And now I’ll get y’all caught up on my medical issues. Here we go ...
THAT GODDAMN URINARY TRACT INFECTION. I’m still having those burning spasms, but on Monday my hospice R.N. pretty much admitted that this will be “as good as it gets” for me. They can’t prescibe any more antibiotics for UTIs because I’m dangerously close to being 100% resistant, and that’s NOT GOOD … so I guess I’m stuck with the burning spasms. The intensity and frequency are not quite as bad as they were a month ago, but they’re still horrible. I suspect that repeat infections — and fevers — will be responsible for my ultimate demise. And there will be repeat infections, because I’m old, I’m bedridden, I’m susceptible and I’m catheterized.
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. On Friday morning I had visits from my hospice C.N.A. (for a bathing and hygiene session) and from my hospice L.V.N. for a routine checkup that actually turned out not to be very routine. After taking my vitals (blood pressure, heart rate, temperature) I showed her the problem I’ve been having with the skin on my back and my right side, which is always wet, itches like mad, and suddenly so painful I can’t even let Sam scratch me! Leslie (my L.V.N.) looked at my back and told me it’s all flame red, and I’m in the early stages of “skin breakdown,” a very serious condition for bedridden patients who are mostly immobile and unable to turn over, such as yours truly. It begins with feeling wet, progresses to itching and then searing pain, and eventually the skin forms a thick “crust” that falls off, bleeds and causes a severe infection. And because, in my case, an infection would cover such a large area of the body — i.e., my entire back and side — it could be fatal for me with a shitty immune system and a resistance to antibiotics. Leslie was genuinely scared for me.
SO WE’RE TAKING A STAB AT PREVENTION. Yesterday Leslie advised that we have to stop the skin breakdown on my back and side immediately. After my bath we began with barrier cream, and to relieve any pressure on my back she told Sam to roll me on my side every two hours and stuff a “body pillow” behind me so I can’t roll back. She also suggested cotton (breatheable) sleepwear instead of the nylon gowns I wear now and a 100% cotton bedsheet on my hospital bed. Right now I’m laying directly on the nylon mattress cover, but I like it because I can slide around easily to reposition myself and it never pops off at the corners like a fitted sheet would do on an adjustable bed. (We know. We tried.)
Unfortunately, I can’t follow Leslie’s directions. I can’t roll on my side every two hours because I’m not in a hospital or nursing facility that’s staffed 24/7 … isn’t Sam allowed to sleep once a while? And what am I supposed to do while I’m laying there, propped up with a body pillow … stare at the wall or listen to the TV behind me? And how long am I supposed to stay in that position?
As always, Sam and I will figure something out, and we’ll do it our way. He’s got a scheme to place a folded 100% cotton twin flat sheet on the hospital bed behind my entire upper torso, which would put a layer of breatheable fabric between me and the nylon mattress cover. And whammo, that will solve the “wetness” issue with my skin. Stay tuned …
AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT. On Friday morning I had visits from my hospice C.N.A. (for a bathing and hygiene session) and from my hospice L.V.N. for a routine checkup that actually turned out not to be very routine. After taking my vitals (blood pressure, heart rate, temperature) I showed her the problem I’ve been having with the skin on my back and my right side, which is always wet, itches like mad, and suddenly so painful I can’t even let Sam scratch me! Leslie (my L.V.N.) looked at my back and told me it’s all flame red, and I’m in the early stages of “skin breakdown,” a very serious condition for bedridden patients who are mostly immobile and unable to turn over, such as yours truly. It begins with feeling wet, progresses to itching and then searing pain, and eventually the skin forms a thick “crust” that falls off, bleeds and causes a severe infection. And because, in my case, an infection would cover such a large area of the body — i.e., my entire back and side — it could be fatal for me with a shitty immune system and a resistance to antibiotics. Leslie was genuinely scared for me.
You may remember that I’ve already had a complete breakdown of the skin on the back of my thighs. Instead of a massive infection, though, I wound up with open pressure sores, and it took forever to get rid of those goddamn things. You can’t imagine the pain I was in … I was unable to sit up on a chair without crying for the better part of FIVE YEARS, and I’m still being treated once a week with an antiseptic and preventive barrier cream!
SO WE’RE TAKING A STAB AT PREVENTION. Yesterday Leslie advised that we have to stop the skin breakdown on my back and side immediately. After my bath we began with barrier cream, and to relieve any pressure on my back she told Sam to roll me on my side every two hours and stuff a “body pillow” behind me so I can’t roll back. She also suggested cotton (breatheable) sleepwear instead of the nylon gowns I wear now and a 100% cotton bedsheet on my hospital bed. Right now I’m laying directly on the nylon mattress cover, but I like it because I can slide around easily to reposition myself and it never pops off at the corners like a fitted sheet would do on an adjustable bed. (We know. We tried.)
Unfortunately, I can’t follow Leslie’s directions. I can’t roll on my side every two hours because I’m not in a hospital or nursing facility that’s staffed 24/7 … isn’t Sam allowed to sleep once a while? And what am I supposed to do while I’m laying there, propped up with a body pillow … stare at the wall or listen to the TV behind me? And how long am I supposed to stay in that position?
As always, Sam and I will figure something out, and we’ll do it our way. He’s got a scheme to place a folded 100% cotton twin flat sheet on the hospital bed behind my entire upper torso, which would put a layer of breatheable fabric between me and the nylon mattress cover. And whammo, that will solve the “wetness” issue with my skin. Stay tuned …
That was exhausting and I think I need a break now. Thank you for reading this. I hope you remember the Alamo today, because I can’t.
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