Blessings Look Different Nowadays

I unpacked 15 boxes today! Actually found a place for every single thing that came out! And I made sure one of them was the liquor box. I have known where it was for sometime, but I did not have it high on my "to do" list, but I was delighted to find out that I have 3 different kinds of whiskey in my house. I like to drink an occasional glass of wine or a cold beer, but those have yeast, and I am not allergic to yeast, so once it was pointed out that whiskey does not have yeast, it was just time to go back to the original drink of choice. I felt a small amount of guilt packing the liquor away in my grandmother's sideboard since she was a teetotaler until the end when the doctor told her that a shot of vodka a day might be good for her heart. She refused to make this better by mixing it with juice, so my mother went and bought her some apple flavor, but she decided since it tasted so much better that it made it even more sinful. I also remember because she was so embarrassed by this medicine, that she sent my poor grandfather who was going through chemotherapy, bald as a rock, and wobbly as can be to the liquor store. As he wove back in forth with his cane trying to get to the door, I remember thinking "He looks like he is drunk, and it is 9 a.m. Like people aren't going to talk about that more." The real issue was no one would ever think Grandaddy would do something like that, but Nanny was mean enough that if she had gone into the liquor store, people would immediately have said she was so cantankerous because she was a closet drunk and was just hiding it.

I have mastered a new skill - the slightly hysterical, overburdened, only you (the listener) can help voice. This is a great tool when dealing with bureaucracy. It is even more effective if you sit with such an angry look on your face that your four-year-old thinks you are mad at him and starts to cry and stands by the phone and asks repeatedly, also with increasing hysteria and volume, "What is wrong, Mommy? Are you okay, Mommy? Mommy, mommy, mommy???!!!???" And then starts crying even louder. I used this trick this morning on the person who I later learned is part of the approval process of my mother getting another week in inpatient rehab, and I am pretty sure she will approve Mama another week for my mother's own safety since they are clearly going to be releasing her to a person who needs high dosage Xanax. Also useful for getting specific rather than vague answers out of various medical care providers.

I am actually doing much better, since I realized that we don't REALLY need that dining room for a dining room and it will make an excellent bedroom. But, then I was horrified to learn that insurance does not like to pay for "durable goods" i.e. a wheelchair, a medical toilet, straightjacket, etc. I went to a support group meeting for caregivers tonight, and even though every person in that room was oh, 30 years older than me, and had their own crisis care situation, they were so happy to give me advice on everything that now I know where the best deals on medical supplies are (answer: Goodwill), but I also learned there are SIZES in everything from the aforementioned toilets to undergarments, etc. And I learned where my mother can go and play bingo, including places that might even giver her a ride. She is doing GREAT and is starting to make significant progress, or at least what counts as progress with a stroke victim. So, until she does something funny, I am done talking about my crisis with my mother. Of course, this means I will be going to MS again within the next 7 days....