Bare feet

I have sensitive, delicate feet. I like pedicures, but don't enjoy the part where they scrub the bottom of your feet. That always makes me squirm. I don't walk outside in bare feet. I can't handle walking on twigs or rocks or anything like that. Even when I'm inside I'm usually wearing socks. For awhile I would even wear my shoes inside the apartment. I would get home from work but not take my shoes off until I went to bed. Weird, I know. I finally stopped doing that. These days, though, I'm enjoying going barefoot in the apartment. I'm not sure what's changed. But it feels good. It feels relaxing. I think for some reason when I was younger, my feet used to sweat a little and stick to the carpet. But that's not happening anymore. I'm sure many people would view this as a strange post. Why is she talking about how going barefoot makes her happy? For me, being able to walk around barefoot is a feeling of freedom. My feet needed to be covered by something at all times - socks, shoes - but now they can be unencumbered, and it feels good.

librarianintx

Weird Dreams

Have I mentioned before that since my CO2 is coming down and the bipap is doing its job, my dreams are more vivid and I remember them more often - and many of them are so bizarre.

Two nights ago, I dreamed that I was at some restaurant / museum that was in a swimming pool. I know, right? Crazy. I love to swim, but it was a bad situation for me because the water was freezing, and I can't handle cold water. So there were stations with all this delicious food, but you had to swim to each station, and I was stuck at the entrance to the place, watching everyone else eat and being able to smell how good everything was. There was also all this adorable butterfly stuff that you could buy - shirts and posters and mugs - but again you had to swim to a station.

At one point a friend tried to put me on his shoulders and get me to a station, but my balance was too poor, and I started to fall backwards. I got scared, and he put me back on the steps at the entrance.

At the end of the dream, the water suddenly drained, and I was able to eat and buy butterfly stuff.
So there was a happy ending at least.
But really - so strange!!

Luckily, even though some of the dreams are disturbing, I usually wake feeling fairly refreshed. So I'll take the weird dreams and be exceedingly grateful for how good the bipap is making me feel. Extremely appreciative. 

librarianintx

Things I tend to lose

I haven't reached that stage in life when I lose things frequently - yet. I am to the point when I walk into a room and don't remember what I needed there. I have misplaced my keys a time or two, and I've left my phone at home twice. That is a big deal, because I am very attached to my phone, as many people are. The first time I forgot my phone it was quite an ordeal, because I was going to Houston for the weekend. I didn't have a way to contact my friends or family there. I was at the bus station, stressed out and fretting, and left a semi-hysterical voicemail for my roommate using the phone in customer service, asking him to text my mom and my friends and explain the situation. About thirty minutes later, I was on the bus, feeling like I was missing a limb because I didn't have my phone in my grasp. I look up from my perch in the front of the Greyhound, and there is my dear roommate, holding up my phone, with a big grin on his sweet face. I burst into tears of relief and appreciation. He heard my voicemail, left work, went home, found my phone in the odd place I left it, and brought it to me. Weekend saved.

There are two things, however, that I do tend to misplace: sunglasses, and the butterfly ring that I wear nearly every day. Okay, be honest, girl, you don't misplace sunglasses: you lose them. This is because I usually have them in my hand and lay them down somewhere, like in the Metro Access car or in the grocery store. When I use a case for the sunglasses, I am less likely to lose them. Luckily I don't have prescription sunglasses. I buy the $5 Walmart sunglasses because I lose them so often.

I tend to misplace my ring because I am actually trying to take care of it, so I take it off when I wash my hands or am doing dishes. Its very delicate, a rope band with the butterfly hanging down from the ring, so I think if its exposed too much to water and soap the butterfly will eventually detach from the ring. But the problem is, instead of using the ring holders that I have, I tend to put the ring on the counter, and then I don't remember where I put it. One time I put it on top of a can, and when I picked up the can, the ring went flying across the kitchen. Once again, my roommate came to the rescue and found it.

These days I am using the ring holders more often than not, so I am misplacing the ring less, which makes me very happy. This morning however, the ring holder became part of the problem. The holder was very close to the sink, and in my haste to separate the ring from the holder, the ring again went flying, and this time landed in the disposal! Crap! My driver had already arrived and I needed to leave, but I couldn't leave my ring in the disposal. I would have had OCD all day at work. I could see it, but it took me a minute to dislodge the ring from the disposal. Luckily there wasn't anything yucky down there. The ring was saved once again.

My mom went through a terrible time of losing things when she went through menopause. She lost her keys several times, and had pretty legendary fits of rage. She also threw some checks in the trash. I hope these events are not in my future, but likely, they are.

librarianintx

Personal Care Attendant

For about a month, I had a great new PCA. She was dependable, helpful, and eager to please. She was early nearly every day, and never asked to leave before the end of her shift. She was a good cleaner, and enjoyed the praise I gave her when she wanted me to check her work, and make sure she was doing her job to my satisfaction. This PCA was only nineteen years old, and this was her first employment experience. Her age and the fact that this would be her first job gave me pause about hiring her, but I'm glad I decided to take a chance. We were able to accomplish much in one month's time. We arranged my bedroom closet and parts of the kitchen. We cooked together twice. For a month I felt organized and secure in the knowledge that I wouldn't have to struggle to do everything on my own - cooking, shopping, laundry, cleaning, etc. I appreciated the little things that she would do for me without even being asked. I enjoyed her youthful exuberance, and we chatted about music and cute actors. It seemed as if she actually liked coming to work, which was so refreshing. She didn't balk at anything I asked her to do, even cleaning the oven. She was patient on our long waits for the paratransit rides, even though she claimed she was not a patient person. She bagged the groceries herself at the supermarket, and insisted that she help me to my apartment in a downpour, covering me with an umbrella. "l'll just make a run for it," I told her. "Oh no!" she replied. "I'm not letting you fall down." She is actually an inch or two shorter than me, but she could reach high shelves in the store and carry heavy bags of cans and cleaning products. She tried tofu for the first time when we made spinach stuffed shells, and said she liked it. We were very different in age and cultural backgrounds, but we shared a fondness for chicken and potatoes in any variety. :)

And then the day after I returned from the Fourth of July holiday, an afternoon that she was supposed to work - bam. I get a text from her: "Bad news - I've moved to Houston." No warning at all. I was dumbfounded. I called and got her voicemail. I left a message, asking her to call me back. I just wanted to know what happened. I wanted closure. But she hasn't returned my call, and I know she's not going to. I contacted my case manager. Time to start the process again.

I'm not taking this personally. She did not quit because of me. She lives with her mother, and I firmly believe it was her mother's decision to move. My PCA may not have found out until the last minute. Still, she could have let me know, even if she had to give me bad news on a holiday. The sooner she informed me, the quicker I could begin a search for someone new.

I'm trying to look on the bright side of things. I'm grateful for the month we worked together, and all that we were able to accomplish. I enjoyed my time with her. I appreciated her hard work and dedication to her job. I will look back on our month together, and remember how good it felt to have someone who was reliable and took her job seriously. I hope her life goes well for her. And I have to have faith that my next PCA will
have many of the same qualities that made the former PCA such a pleasure to work with.

Everything in life happens for a reason. 

librarianintx