Most of our relatives and friends participated in “virtual” seders last night via a new technology called Zoom that’s apparently something like FaceTime on steroids. We were invited to one of these virtual seders with a gang of my senior citizen cousins — and their children and grandchildren — but had to decline due to an abundance of unplanned sleep going on around here. In my case, I take lots of (lovely) sleep-inducing drugs — Xanax, Hydrocodone, Trazodone — and have two long-running, incurable bacterial infections wearing me down, so I often pass out for 12 to 14 hours at a time, sometimes more. In Sam’s case it’s because he’s a 24/7 caregiver, nurse, chef, vaudeville comic (don’t ask) and launderer … and he gets substantially pooped. I try to let him sleep without interruption for as long as possible. And exactly as expected, yesterday both of us were sound asleep at the time we would’ve been participating in the virtual seder hoo-hah.
Incidentally, if many of you are wondering why I haven’t posted any political commentary lately, or remarked about current events, it’s because I called a total moratorium on the news — except the local weather, as needed, such as tornado warnings — about three months ago. I don’t read the news any more, I don’t want to know what the fuck Trump is up to, and I don’t even follow the Democrats very much, with the exception of voting for Joe Biden in the primary and sending a nice bunch of money from Sam and me to help fund his campaign. Where Trump and his administration of clown car morons are concerned, I refuse to rot my brain and ruin my disposition with frustration and hatred while I lie here in the family room, trapped in bed during the final months of my life. So current events are OUT, and Danny Kaye movies, free fonts and Greek olives are IN. Got that?
UNCONTROLLABLE THIRST and uncontrollable pishing … with a long, slow “burn” at the end, each and every time, thanks to a six-year-old incurable urinary tract infection! My hospice R.N. can’t figure out why I’m not dead yet. (Neither can I.)
LOW BLOOD PRESSURE. Today, 90/60. Yesterday, 82/58. Numbers like this can be scary, especially when my heart rate is only 60 and my chronic pain is through the roof.
LEG PAIN. Due to cellulitis (a bacterial infection), the lower half of my left leg is painful, tender, hot to the touch and red. Also my toes are turning black. Like an MGM Technicolor musical … except nobody’s singing along.
EXTREMELY SHITTY SKIN UNDER MY BOOBIES. It’s dry, inflamed, bright red, peeling and painful. This morning we tried a hospice miracle barrier cream — Lantiseptic — that we’ve been using on areas of my body that come into contact with pee-pee. (I’m bedridden and can’t even get up to use a commode.) It works so well to prevent skin burn and bed sores that I just ordered a tube of Lantiseptic’s companion skin cream (on Amazon) that will be much better under my boobs than the skin protectant barrier cream, which is thick and greasy like Crisco.
A FULL BATH FROM SAM AT 3 A.M. Now that we don’t have hospice C.N.A.s coming over any more for bathing and hygiene sessions five days a week I’ve decided to promote Sam. This morning at 3 a.m. I had another full “Sam Bath,” and it was joyous. BEST. BATH. EVER. He even rubbed my arms and legs afterwards with Eucerin (a great skin cream!) and then nuked a bowl of spicy ramen noodle soup with shrimp for my breakfast. Doesn’t get much better than that, does it?
Many thanks for stopping by today. Please feel free to resume your regular shelter-in-place activities.
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