I Shut Her Up

Daughter is understandably anxious about the move, which has made her very needy emotionally. She has become a Cling-on again. Last night she decided she needed to stay home and help me today. I said no, but refused to engage further as she ranted and raved. She went to bed last night, and I thought the argument was over.
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When I woke her up this morning, her first words were, "I'm not going!" She informed me she knew I had a lot of work to do today and she was going to stay home and help me. I said, "Your 'help' comes with shouting and an attitude that wears me out." She stopped shouting. She tried again before she left. I told her that I love her, and when she is stressed she sneaks food and gets grouchy and it's hard work to watch her every move and deal with her attitude. She said, "That's part of why you are sending me away." I didn't respond. She's right, it is part of the reason why it's time for her to move out.
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Last night I was depressed. This is going to be hard. I know it's time. I know it's the right thing to do. I know all that, and I am going to miss her. For 21 years, much of my life has revolved around her needs. Life will be easier when it isn't a daily balancing act to juggle the demands of ministry and parenting her. It will also be emptier. I promised her we'd have fun together this evening and tomorrow.

Safe at Church

I suspect Daughter is depressed. It's hard to know for sure what's going on with her, as she refuses to talk to me about what's bothering her. She says I scare her. When pressed, she acknowledges it's not anything I've done, but is rather about her. That doesn't make it any less frustrating, though.

For the last few days, I feel like she can't speak to me without either yelling or whining. She began this morning by cussing out her hair. It wasn't doing what she wanted it to do, apparently. I am avoiding interaction with her as much as possible. Any attempt to converse with her seems to end with her yelling at me, so I don't see much point in engaging her.

Yesterday her program was closed for a staff in-service, so she was at the church. It was a busy day. We finished the newsletter, edited a brochure about our mission programs, and finished the bulletin for Sunday. I had a lunch meeting, and then a meeting with a couple of board members about rewriting our by-laws. Administrative Assistant put Daughter to work sorting music. It took her a while, but she completed the job. When she was with AA, she was fine. When she'd wander into my office, she'd start whining. When AA left for the day, she came into my office and pouted on the love seat, eventually falling asleep.

Last night was choir, and we went back to the church for it. Daughter decided she wasn't going to sing. She sat in my office and pouted. I got some work done. I had to go back and finish a few things that I didn't get done during the day, but we stayed because while we're at the church around other people, she's nicer to me. I get tired of being the target of her frustration.

I asked one of the women about her son as she was leaving. Her younger son has autism. He is currently in an assessment program that will lead to his placement in a job training program. He's living in a dorm and his mom says he's the happiest she's ever seen him. He feels like he fits in there. We've had conversations, and she knows what I'm dealing with. She looked so happy and relaxed last night. She just joined the choir this year, feeling like she couldn't do it while their son was at home struggling through school. She looked at Daughter, who was looking pathetic. She simply said to me, "Your day will come." My response was a simple thanks, but inside my heart was a little lighter. She reminded me there is hope.

Foiled Again?

I've been giving Daughter the minimum dose of her sleeping pill. Last night I decided to give her the full dose, and see if that would enable her to sleep through the night. It was close to 10:00 when she went to bed. When I got up to go the bathroom at 3:30, she was awake and doing something with a book. I didn't investigate further because I didn't want to engage her. I went back to my bedroom and locked the door behind me. (She was so volatile and making so many threats last night I decided to sleep with my door locked).

When I got up at 5:30, she was in the kitchen, dressed and organizing the homework Therapist had given her. So much for the increase in the sleeping pill helping her sleep through the night. In preparation for lunch with Case Manager, she had researched carb information at 3 fast food restaurants and had written down meals and carbs. She told me she wanted to make a fresh start. Am I optimistic? No, I'm tired. Very tired. The best I can say is that she's someone else's challenge for 10 hours today, and I'm grateful for the break. I have Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder after 21 years with Daughter, and today I'm on edge.

Taking a Toll

Daughter's current emotional roller coaster is taking a toll on me. I've been walking almost 4 miles in the morning, which helps. It's hard, though, to continue to ignore the verbal abuse and threats. It's not easy, wondering what I can say to her that won't trigger a rage.

Therapist suggested to her today that Birth Brother is feeding into the current crisis. Daughter was furious. Turns out Birth Brother has not been responding to her messages. I think Therapist is on to something. We talked about it some in the car on the way home, and she cried. I reminded her he was damaged, too, and that this is why I had discouraged contact.

She is setting one of the men in her program up to break his heart yet again. They have tried to keep them apart, but as Program Manager said, it's like Daughter's attraction to food. She can't control it.

I'm tired. No, that's not quite right. I'm depressed. I never know when I open my mouth if Daughter will respond by screaming, growling, or laughing. It's hard to keep my balance. I made her the pulled pork she asked for tonight. I bought her pickles and salt and vinegar chips when we stopped at the store to pick up buns. When I had the nerve to ask her to do a chore before she turned on her computer or the TV, she went ballistic. She's done with this family. There are times when I wish it was that easy....

I Hate Medication Adjustments

Daughter is now off the antidepressant, and she's depressed. Lots of tears, lots of apologies. Last night she said, "I'm just miserable." I think that was an accurate reflection of where she is. "I just want to feel normal again." I keep hoping they will develop a blood test or something to determine what brain chemicals need fixing.
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Today her program is going to a lake. She's convinced she won't be safe there. I did everything I could to reassure her, and sent her off. It's even more important that I have a break when she's just volatile. I've invited Brother and his family, and there were two possible dates. One was tomorrow. I put it off to September, in the hopes that she'll be a little bit more stable.
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Last night for the first time I wondered if she was going to need to be hospitalized again....

Perfectionism

I was the oldest of four children, and Mom worked hard to challenge me to be my best. So, when I proudly showed her a picture I had drawn as a preschooler, she informed me she was ashamed of me, I knew the sky went down to the horizon, but I'd only put the blue sky at the top. I didn't know what horizon meant, but I knew I had disappointed Mom, I wasn't good enough.

When I started school, she wanted me to be my best. I'd come home with my report card, and she'd tell me it was a same I had ruined a beautiful report card with a B+ in math. As high school graduation approached, I discovered I was going to be co-valedictorian. She was delighted an gave me a hug. After reflection, she told me it was a shame I'd let my class down. If I'd worked a little bit harder, and improved one grade, the girl who had bypassed calculus for an easier math class senior year wouldn't be co-valedictorian with me.

I could go on, but you get the idea. The message I got was that I wasn't good enough. If I wasn't perfect, I wasn't good enough. That wasn't the message Mom intended to give, but it was what I heard. I finally decided if I couldn't be perfect, at least I could be needed, so I threw myself into being the third parent for Sister and Brother, who were 10 and 12 years younger than I am. My senior year of high school, Mom went to work, and I was usually the one who stayed home to take care of Sister or Brother when they were sick. I struggled with severe depression for years, and still experience it occasionally.

Sister wants to challenge Short Niece to do her best. She is in first grade, and because Sister has identified her as gifted, her teachers give her extra homework. Sister works with her on the homework, which has to be perfect. Short Niece is gifted in manipulating Sister, and so she does none of her homework independently. The other night Short Niece was doing homework. Sister stepped into improve it, making her add things to her report and finally erasing and rewriting some words for Short Niece. Sister's Ex-Husband (they still live together thanks to the real estate slump) intervened, scolding Sister for doing Short Niece's homework. He said she'd done the same thing to him when she typed his college papers, rewriting them because what he did wasn't good enough. She called me to tell me how terrible Ex-Husband is. I reminded her that Ex-Husband loves Short Niece, too, and wants what's best for him. I told her she needed to be careful, and told her the story of what Mom's attempts to challenge me had done to me. She was shocked. Surely Mom would never have done that! I explained that Mom was intending to tell me I wasn't good enough, and that when she saw what her messages had done to me, she changed the way she parented Sister and Brother. She was also adamant that she wasn't doing anything like that to Short Niece.

I called and warned Far Away Sister that Sister was mad at me and would be calling her. Far Away Sister is the mother of Tall Niece, who has genius level IQ and is headed off to a prestigious university. Tall Niece is a remarkable young woman, and very balanced. Sure enough, after work Sister called Far Away Sister to complain about how terrible I am. Far Away Sister didn't acknowledge we had talked, but suggested that Sister was walking a fine line, and it was important that she didn't push Niece too hard this early in her academic career. She told Sister that the best way to handle Short Niece was probably somewhere between Sister and Ex-Husband.

I hope Sister listens and examines the ways she is pushing Short Niece. Daughter has helped me overcome my perfectionism. I've realized that Daughter is wonderful and valuable and I love her not because of what she does, but because of who she is. I'm grateful that Daughter has taught me that, and that I've been able to apply it to my life. Sure, my perfectionist tendencies still get in my way sometimes, but I am no longer paralyzed by deep depression.

Tall Niece

Excuse me while I brag a bit. Tall Niece is a high school senior this year. She has a genius level IQ, and is applying to very exclusive universities. She wants to get a PhD in neurobiology and do research. Her grades and test scores are sky high, and in addition to being so intelligent, she is also a very compassionate person.

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Tall Niece's Friend is also very intelligent, and has done well in school and on her exams. She wants to leave the area and study in a scientific field at a more exclusive school. Her parents don't understand or approve of this desire, and are frustrated because TNF has turned her back on their religion. TNF does not get recognition, praise, or support at home.

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This fall there was an awards program at their high school. The top student in each subject would get recognition. Tall Niece received an award, as did several of her friends. TNF lost out on the award she could have received to a girl who had not taken the top classes in the subject. TN was upset, because she knew the school politics that played into TNF's loss of the award. She told her mom, Far Away Sister, that she didn't need the award, because TN gets recognition and praise at home. She said that TNF had really needed that recognition. Far Away Sister told me TN couldn't celebrate her achievement because of her frustration that TNF was overlooked for recognition she desperately needed.

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Last night Far Away Sister called. TN was very concerned about TNF. She and another friend had already decided that on Monday they were going to go to TNF's parents and urge them to get her treatment for severe depression. They were concerned, because they feared that they wouldn't take their concerns seriously, and they saw TNF as a suicide risk. Yesterday, TNF was talking about suicide. She had a plan. There is a family history of suicide at Christmas. She wouldn't promise TN that she wouldn't hurt herself.

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Far Away Sister and Tall Niece wanted my ideas on how to handle it. I gave them a run down of the resources and procedures for getting someone admitted and held in the psych unit. I assured them that with TNF's messages to TN (they were text messaging), they could get her admitted. Far Away Sister and TN found TNF. TN convinced her to go with her to the ER. They live much further west, so at 2:15 this morning TN called and asked me to tell TNF this was the right thing to do. I croaked out some reassurances (TN claims I was coherent), and after we hung up, I prayed for TN and TNF and went back to sleep. After TNF was admitted to the hospital, TN and Far Away Sister went and talked to TNF's parents (she didn't want to see her parents, but told TN that she could tell them she was suicidal and that was why she'd been admitted-- she wouldn't give the hospital permission to tell them anything. They knew she was in the hospital because they got a call at 2:00 in the morning requesting insurance information).

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One of Tall Niece's concerns was that TNF would be mad at her and never speak to her again. I told TN it was easier to live with her alive and mad at her than with the aftermath of her suicide. TN has been to the hospital to visit TNF today and take her some things. TNF is still speaking to her, and TN thinks she's doing better today.

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I'm very proud of TN. She recognized the warning signs for suicide. She knew that a plan and the refusal to commit to not harming herself were major danger signs. She sought out the help and advice she needed to make a plan that would get TNF the help she needed. Another of her friends is the daughter of a physician, so I suggested she make contact with him for more help with specific resources in the area and his thoughts on the best ER to take her. She did, and he gave her the information she needed. I think TN may have saved a life last night. I'm very proud of her. She is a remarkable young woman. I look forward to seeing the difference she is going to make in our world. She already has made a difference.

It's Going to Be a Long Weekend

I asked Daughter to fold about a dozen microfiber cloths I had removed from the dryer. She folded one, and then couldn't stay awake. She suggested that if I took her out for ice cream, that would wake her up. For some strange reason, I wasn't in the mood to take her out for ice cream.

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She spent the rest of the day hiding in her room. I intercepted 2 cans of pineapple and the can opener from her on her way up the stairs. I asked her if she ever planned to do a chore again. She informed me that I'm scaring her so she's just going to hide in her room all weekend. She'll survive by sneaking food out of the pantry. She refuses to tell me what I'm doing that's scaring her. I have the feeling it is going to be a very long weekend....

A Glimpse of Humor

Daughter has dug a deep, dark hole, and is unwilling to do the things she needs to do to get out of it. To say being around her is unpleasant would be an understatement. This morning she wouldn't let me hug her good bye. She was telling Kitten good bye and how much she loved her. I said, "Maybe if I became a cat you would be nice to me."

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She was headed out the door, but she turned around and came back into my study. She waved an imaginary magic wand and said, "Flickety-flick." She stood and studied me for a minute and said, "Sorry, didn't work." With that she turned and walked out the door.

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It's not much, but today I will celebrate a glimpse of humor. I will view it as a sign of hope.

Enduring

Right now I feel like we are enduring until the new med gets up to therapeutic levels. Daughter wet the bed last night, but she was up early this morning and when she woke me up at 6:13 she was showered and dressed with the wet stuff in a laundry basket. After a hyper morning, we're having a depressed evening. She hates herself. She can't stop thinking about the lies she told. God will never forgive her. She needs to go to the hospital.

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She didn't report Flasher, though she says she did talk to him about it. He claims he was playing around. She says he apologized. I again expressed concern for her safety with him. She says she's afraid to break up with him.

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I think the desire for the hospital is a desire to run away from the mess she has created. I'm not taking her to the hospital. I am watching her closely. I am learning patience as I wait for her moods to level out some and her to regain a grasp on reality.

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At supper tonight her blood sugar had gone up 30 points from what it was when she got home. "Anything you want to tell me?"

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"No."

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"Are you going to just tell me and get it over with, or are you going to wait until I figure out what is missing?"

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"I was into the chopped dates. But there are still some left."

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"Go get them."

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It's a start-- she told me the truth with only a little prompting.

Will They or Won't They?

One of the things that is frustrating about living here and very hard for Daughter is the way the schools and workshop handle weather issues. They are very cautious, which I appreciate. We have about 5 inches of blowing snow right now, and many open country roads. Last night they had all announced that there would be a delay this morning. That is good. It gives the crews more time to clear the roads, allows more traffic to run on them, and makes sure that buses and student drivers aren't out on the roads until it is daylight.

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The problem is that I could have told them last night that they would not be able to run the buses today. This morning when I got up and looked at the roads and saw the snow start back up, I knew that they would end up canceling. I'm sure that deep down they knew that, too. But they waited until it was almost time for the bus to come to cancel. Daughter was up, dressed, pills, breakfast and insulin taken, lunch packed and ready to walk out the door when they gave up and canceled. This has been an ongoing pattern since the first day we arrived here in Tiny Village.

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When Daughter was in 3rd or 4th grade schools were closed for the first two weeks of January because of weather. We kept getting freezing rain followed by snow, so we'd have mounds of snow with ice underneath. The county was shut down, and they were asking everyone to stay off the roads. It was a long two weeks. The worst day was the day the weather broke enough that they decided to have school, though on a 2 hour delay. Daughter was bundled up for the cold and on her way out the door when they canceled. I remember her tears of frustration that day. She has never handled unstructured time well, and she had 4 straight weeks of it that year. We couldn't even go to town for a break because the roads were so bad. If someone did have to go, they'd call around to see what people needed from the store. I had a neighbor bring us in milk and bread. I think that was the year I discovered what the 3 staples were when facing a snow emergency: milk, bread, and toilet paper.

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Daughter has gone back upstairs, and from the silence I would guess she has gone back to bed. I'm going to have to go get her moving. I have so much to do today. Her hospitalization threw me behind on everything. The visits won't get made this week, but I still have to have a sermon and do various other things in preparation for Sunday morning. I'm going to have to figure out a way to keep her busy and motivated today so that she doesn't sink into depression. It looks like it's going to be a fun day....

Home

We arrived home around 11:30 this morning. The car is unloaded and almost everything is unpacked and put away. I say almost everything because Daughter is too tired to take care of her stuff, and we just got home and she shouldn't have to do it. I have no sympathy for her, since she slept all the way home while I drove. I unloaded most of the car, and I had much more to unpack and put away than she did.

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We see Psychiatrist this afternoon. She has improved some since she started the antidepressant, but she is still depressed, and her tremors are worst. I think we'll be looking at another medication adjustment. At least now she is able to laugh and enjoy herself, but it takes a great deal of work to convince her to allow herself to have fun. She's home until January 4th when the workshop reopens. These next few days are going to be very long. I'm not going to be the entertaining committee. If she wants to wallow in her misery, I'm not going to stop her.

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I'm running out of patience with her pity party. I was carrying twice as much weight as we left the motel, but she stopped in the middle of the parking lot because it was just too much and she couldn't do it. She knows that I'm going to go in and make sure she really hung up her new clothes and put them in her closet, yet three times she has told me she did it, and then backtracked when I headed up to check. Then she goes into a long tirade about how she deserves to die.

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Just because she chooses to be miserable doesn't mean I have to be. I'm going to have a productive few days. Tomorrow I'm going to begin modifications and improvements on the church website. I'm going to get the Christmas decorations down and put away, and I've bought new containers to better organize them. I'm going to rework my resume and step up my efforts on my search for a new church. I'm going to make the most of the next few days. Daughter can do whatever she would like.

Cymbalta

Maybe it was the fact that Daughter (who is 5 inches taller than I am) was laying across me during her appointment today. Maybe it was the fact that she wouldn't talk. Maybe it was the fact that she's sleeping 13 hours a night and napping during the day. The fact that the xanax experiment resulted in uncontrollable crying might have been part of it, too. Psychiatrist has decided that Daughter has depression and anxiety with her PTSD. She has started her on a low dose of cymbalta. She still hopes eventually to get her off the abilify, as she doesn't think the problem is psychosis as much as PTSD. She wants to see her again between Christmas and New Year's.

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I finally lost my patience with Daughter this evening. When we got home, I asked her to take care of the trash and the litter boxes. She is supposed to take care of the litter boxes every night, and the trash is an every Monday night job. She told me to forget it, and that she was never going to forgive me, among other things. Since I was already being accused of being unreasonable, I figured I had nothing to lose. So I finally yelled at her. It didn't help when I discovered she'd gotten ready for bed at 6:00 and hadn't bothered to take a shower. I took care of the trash and the litter boxes. I was quite dramatic about it, too. Mom would have been proud (she was the master of guilt trips).

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Daughter has now told me that she's sorry, and no one deserves her. I'm going to call her down for pills and insulin in a few minutes and remind her that I love her because she is my daughter, not because she deserves it. Nothing will ever change the fact that she is my daughter and I love her. I will also point out that life is much easier around here when she does what she is supposed to do. I hope cymbalta is the answer and it begins to work quickly. I will always hope.

Phone Calls from Daughter

I had two phone calls this morning from Daughter. The first one was because she was worried about her appointment with Psychiatrist today. She is afraid Psychiatrist will put her in the hospital. I assured her that wouldn't happen. The second one was to tell me she was in great pain. I suggested she go ask for something for the pain. I'm picking her up this afternoon, but her anxiety is getting the best of her. I woke her up early this morning and made her sit under the full spectrum light while I did my work out. She went back to sleep, of course, but hopefully the time under the light helped some. She's insisting it's not helping at all, but she didn't sleep as much yesterday, so I see that as an improvement. I'm not sure that the light is going to be enough for her at this point. It would be nice if it was, but I'm just not sure....

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C came over this morning and we continued our cleaning and decluttering in preparation for the open house Sunday. We're making progress, but there is still a great deal to be done. I've decided I need a few more Christmas decorations. I think I may have been possessed by the spirit of my parents.... It's amazing the impact they continue to have on my life. For the most part, that is a good thing.

Remembering the Need

Anyone who has been reading the past few weeks has picked up on the fact that Daughter is not at her most stable right now. She's in what I call cling-on mode, recognizing that it sounds like the dreaded Klingons from Star Trek. I welcome this mode about as much as I'd welcome Star Trek Klingons into my life. The youth group is going Christmas caroling this afternoon, then coming back to the church to eat supper and wrap Christmas presents. I'll stay at the church and watch over the food, in part because I'm dressed for the Blue Christmas worship service tonight, which means my clothes are not conducive to wandering around Tiny Village in cold weather.

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So Daughter tells me, in her best whiny voice, that she doesn't want to go caroling, because she'll sing through her nose and mess everybody up. I tell her it's okay, she can still go caroling, she won't mess anybody up. She then says, "I want to stay at the church and help you. All I want is to be by you. That's all I ever want."

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Now Daughter has no sense of personal space. So when she's in this mode, she stands right on top of me. I was working in the kitchen this afternoon, and she was in there, "helping." Our kitchen is very small, and if she's standing in the way (which is often), she doesn't have the sense to move out of the way. If I ask her to move out of the way, she doesn't hear that she's interfering with my ability to work, she hears that I don't want her near me. We get into this spiral of my frustration feeding into her anxiety which causes her to be even more of a cling-on, which increases my frustration, causing her anxiety to go up.... Well, you get the idea.

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So for me, the challenge is to remember why she is acting the way she is and be patient with her. I try to find her jobs she can do that will keep her busy, near me, and out of the way. She put away clean dishes and cleared off the kitchen table while I was cooking.

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She's very conflicted about the Blue Christmas service tonight. One minute she wants to sing a solo (she can sing a solo through her nose, but not go caroling and sing through her nose), and the next minute she is insisting that she can't go because it will be too hard for her. I'm hoping that once we get that behind her, she'll relax a little bit. I put her under the full spectrum light again today. But I can't tell if it's helping with her depression. She fell asleep with her head on my lap and the cats on top of her last night. Even though she had what should have been a good night's sleep, it was a challenge getting her up this morning. Tomorrow we see Psychiatrist. I'm not expecting a miracle cure, but I'm hoping she has some ideas that will help.

Merry Christmas from Heaven

I apologize for my full of self pity post earlier today. We have a pianist for both services tomorrow. He wanted to make sure it was okay he played the piano and not the organ. I told him I was so grateful for his willingness to fill in on such short notice that he could play the harmonica as far as I was concerned!

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I made Daughter sit under my full spectrum light for a while this afternoon. Actually, she slept under it, but then she got up and joined me in the kitchen as I was baking. She wanted to help, so I put her to work unwrapping the candy cane kisses for the candy cane blossoms I was making. I put on Christmas music. Daughter sat there crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she said the Christmas music made her think of Grandma and miss her. She had received a note from Sister's ex-Mother-in-law thanking her for her beautiful prayer at Thanksgiving, and telling her that she missed Grandma and Grandpa, too. So she sat there unwrapping kisses and I stood there rolling sugar cookies in green sugar and we both cried.

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Tomorrow night at our Blue Christmas service we will be distributing bookmarks I purchased with the poem Merry Christmas from Heaven on it. The poem is under copyright, so I can't print it here, but if you go down the page on the link and run your cursor over the framed poem, the text will appear on the right. This year I can't read it without crying. I had ordered some more and they came in the mail today. I went and got them to show Daughter. I tried to read it, but couldn't. So Daughter read it aloud. After reading it, Daughter offered to sing at the Blue Christmas service tomorrow night. I told her I thought that would be too hard, and even I wasn't planning on doing much during the service. I wrote it, but the board is leading it. Daughter wants to help, so she will help with the blue ornaments we're going to give people that they can write something on and put on a Christmas tree. At the end of the service, the following story will be read, and we'll light the Christmas tree with our blue ornaments on it. People will have the option of taking the ornaments home with them if they'd like.

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A pastor, Bass Mitchell, shared the story of driving through the mountains towards his wife’s hometown one year during the holiday season. Throughout their drive, they had seen lots of Christmas decorations, and as they came around a curve her hometown was visible before them, all lit up for Christmas. As he looked down on the town, he was puzzled by all the white lights he saw on trees at the edge of town. Where were those? Who had put them up? As he realized where they were, he pulled off the side of the road and got out of his car to look more closely. The lights were on the trees in the cemetery at the edge of town. He stood there, pondering. His first thought was that putting Christmas lights in the cemetery was just plain weird. But the more he thought about, the more he realized how appropriate it was. You see, Christ came to defeat death. Because of Christmas, we know that death is not the end, and that we will be reunited with those who have gone before us. The light of Christmas takes away some of the darkness of death. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will never overcome it.

As I light the Christ candle, it is with the hope that the light of Christmas will lighten your pain and grief.

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I'm sitting in my living room, with the candles in the fireplace lit and the Christmas tree lights on, listening to Christmas music. The cats are curled up beside me. After Daughter gets out of the shower, she's going to make hot chocolate for both of us and come sit beside me. We may cry some more, but we'll be okay. Mom and Dad are together for Christmas this year. They're spending it with Jesus.

Out Shopping

Apparently the entire world is out shopping today, or at least all of those who know how to play piano or organ. Daughter and I went to City to the warehouse store. We were gone when Organist called me at 10:00 this morning to tell me she was still sick and wouldn't be able to play for our 2 services tomorrow. I got home at 1:30 to the good news on my machine. I have made 7 phone calls since I got the message. I have gotten one adamant no, 2 phone numbers of possibilities, and one husband who doesn't know his wife's schedule but will have her call me back.

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I'm trying to figure out when I, who have no say in hiring or firing musicians or anything to do with music, became responsible for finding substitutes at the last minute. This is the second week in a row Organist has done this to me.

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Daughter is in her sleeping-crying mood today. She sits down and falls asleep. I ask her to do something and she begins crying inexplicably. Even she doesn't know why she's crying. At one point she laid down in the middle of my study floor and fell asleep. I told her she had to move when I almost stepped on her trying to get to the phone.

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I'm going to go get busy in the kitchen. There is baking to be done and I need to make potato soup for youth group tomorrow. Tomorrow I have worship, advent brunch, youth group, and blue Christmas service. A nice, quiet, restful Sunday....

Next....

Psychiatrist thinks we need to talk to Neurologist about seizure activity. She thinks that explains most of what is going on right now-- the excessive sleeping, the cognitive dulling, etc. So, now I get to track down neurologist and see what he wants to do. Psychiatrist said it may be as simple as increasing her dose of the generic keppra-- she may not be absorbing it into her system as well. Daughter has been much more cooperative tonight, which makes life a little easier.

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Today was my day off. So, I went to the hospital to visit one of the saints. I only had one phone call to deal with, fortunately, and I spent over an hour with the Sunday School Superintendent. She stopped by to talk about a meeting we're having tomorrow evening. It should be interesting. Hopefully I was some help to her.

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I also had breakfast with a friend and spent 3 hours on the appointment with Psychiatrist (it would be so nice to have doctors who were closer to us.) The result is that I didn't get the things I had hoped to accomplish on my day off done. But then, that's typical of my life.

If It Doesn't Make Sense....

Last night we had supper with a friend who moved away about a year ago. She thought Daughter looked terrible. Her depression was obvious immediately, and her tremors interfered with her ability to hold and eat her sandwich. Tomorrow afternoon I take her to see Psychiatrist. It will be interesting to see what she thinks. I had called over a week ago and talked to a nurse about the tremors, and took her in last Saturday for lithium and depakote levels. This week I got a message from a different nurse telling me her blood levels were fine, and I shouldn't change anything. That wasn't helpful. I'm still wondering if the tremors are a result of her changing to generic Keppra for her seizures.

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Today after church Daughter lobbied had for a trip to Town for Mexican food, and since I was tired and wanted to get some hamburger and buns for tonight to go with the fresh picked corn one of the saints brought to church, I agreed. When she checked her blood sugar before lunch, I was pleasantly surprised at how good it was. Her blood sugar had been a little high this morning, and it hadn't been that long since breakfast, so I was expecting a higher number.

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We came home and had a pleasant afternoon watching the Sound of Music together. Munchkin Mom had gotten the music stuck in my head, and I was singing the songs on the way home from the City last night. Daughter and I were having a friendly discussion about words and tunes. We decided we needed to watch the movie.

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After the movie, she fell asleep, and I finally pried myself out of the recliner and went downstairs to begin preparing supper. I was weighing out hamburgers for tonight and the freezer, preparing 4 ears of corn, starting water boiling and lighting the grill, when Daughter came downstairs. "Oh. I thought you'd have it ready by now."

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I asked her to clear off the table and get out the condiments. I put the hamburgers on the grill, and then came in and put the corn in the boiling water. Daughter critiqued what I was doing. I came in with the hamburgers and she was on the phone and hadn't gotten the condiments out like I asked her to. I asked again, and my frustration showed through. She informed me that after supper she was going to go to her room because she didn't have to put up with my attitude.

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I got the corn out and buttered and salted it (she can't/won't cook corn or butter and salt it). We sat down to eat and she checked her blood sugar. It was very high. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

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"No, I haven't been into anything."

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I drew up the appropriate amount of insulin, and she took it. I sat there pondering the puzzle of her blood sugars-- they didn't make sense. Bingo. "Please give me your meter."

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"There's something I need to tell you."

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"Yes?"

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"My blood sugar wasn't 106 before lunch."

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"What was it?"

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"206."

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Sigh.

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So now not only do I have to keep her pills and insulin locked up and watch her take them, I have to check her meter to make sure she's telling me the truth about the reading.

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It is exhausting. Instead of becoming more independent, she's becoming less.

Seeing God's Hand

Last week one of the teenagers in the church brought me a note from his mother. She wanted me to add her brother-in-law, who had just been diagnosed with a serious disease, to the prayer list. I asked if this man was related to someone who has been attending and has the same last name. The teenager didn't think his uncle was connected to that family. Since the last name is relatively common in this area (I know at least 3 different clans that share the last name in this area), I didn't think any more about it. The bulletin was done, so I promised I'd announce it during worship on Sunday morning. Midway through the service, I realized I'd forgotten. I decided I'd say something before the benediction. That afternoon, I realized I'd forgotten again. I was quite frustrated with myself, and with the reality that my brain still isn't working the way I'd like.

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During the joys and concerns at the board meeting, I mentioned this man's name and that I had forgotten to announce him as a prayer concern. Several of the board members thought they knew him, and thought he was the brother of the man who has been attending regularly. So when I saw the brother for pre-marital counseling later that evening, I asked. He told me it was, indeed, his younger brother. He had learned of his illness during dinner that very day. I have decided that it was a good thing my brain was not working very well and I forgot (twice) to mention the prayer concern. I've decided maybe God's hand was at work. I would not have wanted this man to find out that his brother had an illness requiring prayers during the worship service.

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After my time in the woods while we were camping, I've been more aware of nature around me. I've been seeking to be more conscious of the beauty around me. There have been the most beautiful wildflowers in bloom on the route to Town. I've also had the joy of seeing deer twice in a field on the way to town. One day I saw two does and 3 fawns. Daughter was with me, and we were both delighted by the treat. I was also grateful that they were munching soybeans and not running across the road in front of me.

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Last night Daughter decided to be more cooperative. The fact that she wanted me to take her to her softball game might have had something to do with the improved attitude. Her cooperation gave me the boost I needed to tackle 2 jobs I had been avoiding: clearing off my desk and filing an expense report. Both are now done, and I am feeling like I am overcoming this depression. Today I realized I had been approaching Sunday's sermon all wrong, and I'm now excited about the direction it is taking. I will know joy again.