This Morning

We have a very small kitchen. Brother gave me a small portable dishwasher several years ago, and when it is moved from it's place under the window and hooked up to run, it takes up a great deal of space in our very small kitchen. When we got home from softball last night, it had completed a cycle, and I told Daughter I wanted her to unload it this morning (I knew she would object that it was too late at that point).

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This morning I overslept a bit, and so when I got into the shower at 7:00 I told Daughter it was late and she needed to get up and moving. When I got out of the shower, I called out to ask her if she was up and dressed. She wasn't. I told her she had to move it.

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I came downstairs and began to gather things to make her a peanut butter sandwich for lunch. Because she has type 1 diabetes, I need to measure everything she eats to determine carb content so I can give her the appropriate amount of insulin. I pulled the 1/8th cup measuring cup out of the dishwasher, and it still had some peanut butter in it.

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"I thought I told you to wipe the peanut butter out of this before you put it in the dishwasher yesterday morning." I held the cup out for her to see.

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"I did!" I was now wrestling with the dishwasher to get it out of the way so I could wash the cup at the sink before making her sandwich.

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"Wow! That's amazing! We must have magic peanut butter! It jumped from the jar to the measuring cup in the dishwasher!"

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"Thanks for calling me an idiot."

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"Thank you for wiping the cup out like I asked you to."

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She stormed out the door, refusing a hug because she claimed I had called her an idiot. I pointed out I hadn't, but she was quite insistent. She just called to apologize, and ask how Granddad is doing. He's supposedly feeling better, but he always has an excuse why he can't talk on the phone if one of us calls....

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Brother says a kidney doctor stopped by this morning, wanting to know why Dad doesn't have a specialist treating him regularly. He doesn't have one because his doctor doesn't like to refer people out. He'd rather have the office visits (and money) himself.

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Some of the things Sister told me yesterday evening:

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"Dad isn't ready for hospice! He is still fighting and enjoying life."

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"Well of course he doesn't want to talk to you and doesn't respond to your conversation. He doesn't feel good."

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"He's been much worse than this and come back from it."

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"He always enjoys watching (her 4 year old's) antics and laughed at them."

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"He was just telling her to be quiet and settle down because he doesn't feel good."

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"He loves having us visit and spend time with him."

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"Well of course he hasn't wanted long visits in the last month."

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"He's still fighting and enjoying life."

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She's not ready. We'll just wait as she comes to terms with the painful reality of his condition. Who knows, maybe she's right and the rest of us are all wrong.