Minute to Win It with Grandma

Went to visit my Grandma.  She was excited to see my Mom and me.  And she was reading a sports magazine when we found her.  Among other things, it had an article about next year's Final Four.  They postulated that next year it would be the traditionally good at basketball schools, including MSU, which was on the cover.  (They were also big fans of North Carolina.)  I read bits and pieces of the article after she abandoned it, including anything on MSU and Butler.  Paul, Jimmy, Nate and Danny talk sports a lot, and I always feel lame for not knowing as much as they do.  (Though I honestly don't know if anyone knows as much as Danny does.)  So I try to keep up with the basics. 

Grandma wanted to watch this show called Minute to Win It, which I've never seen before.  I have to say, it's not really my kind of show.  I tend not to watch game shows, and when I do, the ones I like are trivia games, which is why Paul and I once had a standing Jeopardy watching date on Mondays.  (I still watch it occasionally, and I like to play along, because blurting out stuff and using my brain are both my cups of tea.) 
Anyway, the show is mostly silly and strange things, involving household items, like stacking cups in a certain way or throwing ping pong balls.  I wasn't really impressed, but I feel like the stuff on the show would make fun games to play with friends at a party.  Possibly they'd be even more fun with alcohol. 
The show had a young male teacher and an older Mom, and they were pretty cute together.  Then the next contestants were an older Dad (who looked weirdly German) and a cheerleader for some Atlanta team.  The cheerleader reminded me vaguely of Amanda.  The guy was kind of creepy.  A lot of the energy felt false and contrived and there was something about most of the contestants that mostly made me think they just wanted to get on tv. 

Saturday Night with Friends and Family

Not that long after my last post, I got really bad news: my Grandma was in the hospital again, and this time she almost died.  (They asked what her legal situation was should that happen.)  Basically, she was unresponsive.  They think they overdosed her on Vicodin, which really annoys me because it says on her charts her kidneys are terrible.  My Mom was sobbing when she found out, and mostly, I really wish we'd taken her to another hospital, because, seriously, people at that place are deficient and incompetent.  I'm increasingly more impressed with my medical skills and I didn't actually go to med school. 
After that mess, Tori called asking if I wanted to grab dinner with her and Lisa.  I said yes, so she came over while I ran around getting dressed. (I spent all afternoon in my pajamas writing.)  We went out for pizza. 
Lisa updated me on her brother's life.  He's been doing volunteer work, and then after that he's going to join up with the army again. 
Lisa also took a psychology class on women, and she realized all this great feminism stuff.  I'm a little sad for her because she's just only learning now how oppressed women are, but maybe this class will make her more thoughtful and critical about gender. 
Tori's sister is pregnant with twins!  That's really awesome.  I am so happy for her.  (Her sister has been trying for around seven years.)  Tori went shopping with her for maternity clothes and she said that there was "slutty" maternity clothes.  Learn new things all the time.
When I got home, I took a shower, and by the time I got out, my sister was back.  She and I were planning on watching Eclipse because we both love Jacob.  Neither of us has seen it yet and I seriously hate so much of that franchise, but Jacob is the light in this cave of darkness. 
She wasn't sure we could watch it right away, because she was going to get some craft supplies with Mom.  Whatever.  Maybe I'll watch a horror movie or do some more writing, I thought.  I'm just glad for a little break and some time with people. 
So I went upstairs and did find myself working on writing again.  I put on some Christmas music to get through it.  (I never voluntarily listen to Christmas music!  What's wrong with me?  Something about this year has got me in the spirit.) 
As I was writing and listening to Christmas music, my sister poked her head in my door and told me not to come down.  I assume this means something was going on that they didn't want me to see.  Given this time of year, it means that there is some present that they don't want me to see.  I actually was thinking of going down because I was hungry, but I decided to wait a little longer, give them some time for whatever was going on. 
Dan and I were texting, and he called.  We spoke briefly.  I was hoping maybe we could hang out over Christmas break, but he says he's going to see family and won't be around. 
Finally, I went downstairs, where yes, my sister was wrapping presents.  I've volunteered to do her's, even though she says she's willing to do them as well.  She made them the ones she did look really nice. 
My Mom, my sister and I sat down to watch Eclipse, which we've never seen.  My sister and I are Team Jacob and my Mom doesn't care.  We've been having trouble with our DVD player for a while now.  Basically, the screen's image will just suddenly disappear and the screen will be black, but you'll still be able to hear the audio.  Since the entire point of watching this movie was to admire Jacob's hott body, this was not what we wanted.  I would troubleshoot it a little, eventually get the picture back, but we ended up pausing the movie around two in the morning because we were all tired. 
And now I am going to go to bed.  Goodnight.

Medicine and Minds

Went to hang out at my Grandma's today.  It was mostly uneventful.  My Mom showed me how to give her breathing medicine.  Basically, my Grandma now needs to get hooked up to this device that puts a medicine into air and she breaths it in.  I'm not actually sure what it's for, but my Mom was giving me directions about it as I tried to eat my dinner and watch Criminal Minds.  "Can I eat my dinner in peace?" I wanted to ask, but refrained. 
It occurred to me (earlier) before my Mom was showing me this new kind of medicine, that I like Criminal Minds for a couple of different reasons, and not solely because of Dr. Reid.  I like that, even though the world is a dark and terrible place, all the characters on the show respect each other, and a lot of them have affections for one another.  There's something rather family like about them, and they sort of remind me of some of my groups of friends.  I also like how there are always literary quotes scattered throughout the show.
I think maybe it's time I learn how to use a needle.  My Grandma occasionally needs injections, and it's another way I could help.  I'm a little scared to use a needle, especially on my Grandma, who busies easily.  I don't want to hurt her (even accidentally) and she has a tendency to fixate on her bruises. 

Doctor's Visit

I was getting ready this afternoon to go see my Grandma. I was going to be helping my Mom take her to the doctor's. I was having something to eat in the kitchen, when my sister yelled across the house that Tracey was coming.
"Tracey?" What the hell?
Let me explain: Tracey is one of my Mom's friends. I have mixed feelings on her, but it's unusual she would just come to our house without my Mom being home.
Turns out she was there to get me. And, of course, I wasn't ready. Damn. Tracey was coming to get me because the three cars my family owns were either out, or in one case, on reserve for my sister who was going to use one to get herself to class. (She's taking summer classes.)
I was planning on doing a lot more to get ready (like, you know, brushing my hair), but I didn't want to keep Tracey waiting. Seems rude, since she was doing me a favor.
One of the things I hate about riding in cars with people like that is that I always struggle to make conversation. With one of my friends, it's easy, because we can't get enough of each other. Someone like Tracey, a real adult, who is way older than me and has daughters slightly younger than I, is a totally different game. It's not like talking to Kelly, where we can giggle about how stupid certain other students are, or Paul or Tony, where I can talk to those two about anything.
I went with talking about MSU, since her younger daughter is starting there in the fall. I told her about how much I liked the floor right above where she would be living.
Tracey talked to me about something I had heard of but haven't really looked into much. Her eldest daughter is at U of M, and she was complaining that there were all sort of hard drugs there. Mandy had discussed it to me, but I was never sure how widespread it was. I have friends at or who were once at U of M, and none of them ever talked about it. Of course, they're very hard working, straight-laced people. It's hard to imagine them doing blow off a frat boy's stomach.
The good news is, Tracey thinks that MSU is actually not much of a party school. Truth.
So we took my Grandma to the doctor's. It was mostly fine, but my Grandma was being more annoying than normal. My Grandma kept asking where we were going and why. She really hates going to the doctor. I don't know why. Worst thing that happens is that she gets her arm squeezed when they measure her blood pressure.
I judge waiting rooms by the magazines they have. I'm looking for something good, like Time, Newsweek, National Geographic, Wired. There are lots of other magazines I like to read, but I'm lucky if a waiting room has the first two, let alone something like Mother Jones or The Economist. Best I could find at this waiting room was Elle. Ugh. I'll take it.

Day Off

My sister ended up going today to babysit my Grandma. 
My Mom yesterday said that she didn't want me to get burned out so fast because we still had a long way to go with her.  I guess I don't want to get burned out either, but I have a sneaking suspicion that's not going to happen anything soon. 
One of the good things about MSU is that I've been trained to go on maximum power, as it were, for months at a time.  Months.  This whole last school year was hell in a lot of ways, but looking back on it and how miserable I was, I think I handled it with grace.  Barely anyone knew about my problems, and no one person knew about all of it.  Which was for the best, since I can't expect people to just accept a drama dump. 
Having the day off was nice.  I got to sleep in, and that always makes me cheerful.  

Inspirational Romance

I found the most delightful thing this morning at my Grandma's place: Christian romance novels! Or, I should probably say Inspirational Romance, which is one of the worst marketing brands I've ever seen. And not only does she have Inspirational Romance, she has Amish romances.
I've heard of Amish romances, and I've been curious as to what exactly they're like to read. (Do they accurately depict the community? Is the writing decent?) And, well, now someone's gone and given me an opportunity to find out.
The first book is called Karen Kingsbury's Forever. It's apparently about a woman who is about to get married when she experiences "tragic news." That's vague and unhelpful. Is it the sort of tragedy that would intrigue me?
The second book was a 2-in-1 of The Postcard and The Crossroad. The Postcard is apparently about a young woman who, after her husband and son die, moves back home to help her family run a bread and breakfast. While there, she meets a man who has found a postcard and sets off a mysterious series of events. Again, the description was vague, which really irks me. But it seems much more interesting than the other novel, and you know, there's the promise of actually plot in this thing. (That's right: I read romance novels for plot. Go ahead and scoff.) The Crossroad is about the same couple. Only apparently now the heroine is hysterically blind. Hysterically blind? It's a good thing that people with disabilities have a literature of their own, but this feels like the author is just contriving drama.
I read a lot, and I like romance novels. Because finding a good romance novel is so hard, I do a lot of searching online, and I read a lot of descriptions hoping to find something promising. Neither of these sound like they could capture my attention the way other novels have, but the last book sounds better than the first, just because it's more specific.
Because I am a serious English major, people like to make fun of me for this interest of mine. I'll admit that finding a well-written, non-misogynist romance novel is like trying to find one needle in all the haystacks of Kansas, but when you find something good, you keep going back to it. That's why I love Austen so much. She actually knows what she's doing.
Actually, one of the best romance novels I've ever read was Mr. Darcy Takes a Wife, which was a sequel to Pride and Prejudice. I guess what surprised me most about it was that it managed to say a lot about Regency society, and there was still plenty of time for love.
Yeah, yeah, I know: I'm a romantic. So sue me. Or, better yet, if you're a cute guy, call me.
My Grandma has never been a romantic or a reader, so how she got these books I'm not sure. But maybe they were meant to find me just as much as they were meant to find her.

La Vida Loca

Just spoke to my Mom.  She wants me to babysit my Grandma tomorrow and maybe Friday.  I said I'd do it. 
Although none of this is my Grandma's or Mom's fault, I'm feeling a little bitter about it today.  Seems like all my peers get to have fun and I'm stuck being responsible and adult.  Uh-huh, that's me, living la vida loca. 
And then I feel guilty about thinking that, because my Grandma really does need people around these days to make sure she eats, takes her medicine, etc.  And it really isn't that hard to watch her.
I'm probably going to have to do more of this as the summer goes on, because my sister is taking at least two classes this summer and is going to be too busy to help out much.
Part of me wishes it was a few summers back, when I was off, having adventures. 

The Puzzle Lady

Went to visit my Grandma today to babysit. My Mom has been spending all her free time with her, which means that I'm on duty when my Mom is working.
My Grandma is often referred to at her nursing home as "The Puzzle Lady." Like most nursing homes, there is a puzzle always sitting out on a particular table. My Grandma likes to sit there and, in addition to putting the puzzle together, people watch.
My Grandma's people watching is one of the many ways that I find myself thinking about how similiar the two of us are. I love people watching. Never feel bad about leaving me alone in a public place with lots of people, like say, the caf at school. I like watching people. They're fascinating.
So, for part of today, my Grandma, sister and I worked on the puzzle. Right now, it's a picture of eggs elaborately decorated. Possibly they are suppose to be those fancy Russian eggs that the Romanovs were into as serfs starved. Anyway, I had a decent puzzle day. I put together a fair amount of pieces. Sweet.
There's really not much to do when hanging with my Grandma, but I try to keep myself entertained. I played some solitare. Read a little. Texted with my friends Philip and Ashley. Talked to my Uncle on the phone. Watched Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Laid down for a little. Like I said, not much to do.
In a little while, I'm going to walk my Grandma down to dinner. I was hoping to have an exciting Friday night planned, but it looks like I've got to be an adult and get some stuff together for a possible job. Bah.

Saint of Miracles

We went today to move my Grandma out of rehab back to her apartment. Once again, she totally forgot that she was moving or that we'd visited her everyday for the past three days. Mostly, my Mom went around haranguing the staff about this and that (my Grandma's walker, the lost clothes, etc.) and I packed my Grandma's stuff up and put it in the car. We said goodbye and finally left.

People at the nursing home where my Grandma lives were surprisingly nice. As I was bringing the bags into her apartment, the woman who lives across the hallway asked if she was back. "She's moving back into today," I answered.

When my Grandma wheeled into the lobby, a bunch of people greeted her. I actually heard one of the staff gush that she was back. Geez, maybe my Grandma is more popular than I realized.

Turns out Aaron is moving on and getting a new job. Aaron is the staff member that has always taken the most interest in her, asking after her, making sure she's okay. What a loss.

While I was unpacking and whatnot, my Mom met with Tracy and her workers. Tracy is one of my Mom's older friends. She recently started a home care business, which means she oversees people to look after the elderly. My Mom got a discount through her.

I think Tracy's okay. I've seen her rip people out a fair few times, and once you see that, you learn not to cross people. Not that I ever have. I was a little surprised by her enthusiasm to see me. She was so proud of me for graduating from college. She gave me a hug.

I guess people's excitement surprises me for a whole host of reasons, but mostly because it was never a question I was going to graduate. For others I'm sure this isn't true, but I was clearly going to make it out of MSU. I worried occasionally for my GPA, but I was indeed going to graduate.

As the women talked about my Grandma's needs, she interrupted a lot. Which I think is one of her most annoying habits. You'll be trying to have a conversation about her health with a doctor, and she she needs to talk about a picture of a dog hanging on the wall. She did the same thing today.

Whenever I'm at my Grandma's place, I have a whole list of things to do. Today, because we were moving back in, I had even more to do. I put everything I could away. I hung up her clothes. I went through her refrigerator, throwing away all the things that had expired. My Grandma's been out of the apartment since March, so all her yogurts were bad, and surprisingly, everything else was fine. My Grandma also drinks a lot of Propel, but she's too weak to open the bottles by herself, so I open them and then reseal them for her. I made ice for her. And then I watered her plants. And checked her mail.

As I was going through her fridge, I thought about a few years back, when she was living in a house. Every week in the summer I would go to her house and go through her fridge, which always had food with mold in it. I'd throw it away, knowing if I didn't she'd eat it.

After Tracy and co left, my Grandma hung out with some of her friends. A big group of them sat eating cake and having coffee. One of the women mentioned that she was a big Saint Anthony fan. "Me too," my Grandma said.

I think about Saint Anthony a lot when I think of my Grandma, probably because my work is in saints. I don't understand why my Grandma went with him as her patron saint, and not some of the other saints that I think she would naturally fall to.

Ballbuster

Update today on Grandma: Turns out when we went to see her this afternoon, she didn't go to therapy. That's the entire point of being there. She was in her pajamas, asleep in a chair. My Mom made her change and marched her down there and made her do stuff.
Her therapist is really nice. My Mom mentioned that I had just graduated. "High school?" she asked.
Damn, if only. "No, I just finished up at Michigan State."
I have maintained for a long time that I look younger than I am. When I was in the seventh grade, one nasty piece-of-work eighth grader asked me if I was seven. Even now, I think I easily pass for much younger. When I mentioned this once to Dan, he disagreed with me (in a rare change up for him, it was one of the least diplomatic things he's ever said to me. International relations could use someone like him.) But ha, I'm right, case closed. Even a therapist says so.
But I digress. What's really heartbreaking is how my Grandma has basically given up the will to live. She doesn't want to do anything anymore, even the simple important stuff, like combing your hair or eating or walking. She fought with the therapist the entire time about walking with a walker and using a bike to exercise. At one point, she put her head down and cried. I've never seen her cry. Even when her husband died, her reaction was to be a pain in everyone's ass, take cold medication, harass her godson about his hair follicle situation and yell at her husband's corpse every chance she got.
The therapist asked what she was like when she was younger. "A ballbuster," I thought. I remember her being really harsh, and supposedly, I was a favorite and she softened as she got older. I can only imagine how difficult she was when she was at her prime.
I realized in October that this is one of the few good things about her dementia: it's erased ninety percent of her personality. She's still difficult sometimes, but in sort of a passive way. She just doesn't do whatever you asked her to do, but if you try to have a conversation with her, she'll sort of just tell you what you want to hear and keep on doing whatever. Before, she'd yell and carry on and actively try to make things harder on you. The whole passive thing is frustrating in its own way, but at least you don't get sworn at. In more than one language.
I find myself really annoyed with this whole thing, and then I feel bad because I've done pretty much nothing to help. Not because I didn't want to, mind, but because I was up at school dealing with at least seven other problems, most of them interpersonal. Which is also why I feel guilty about living at home again. I feel like my Mom would really appreciate me not being a layabout. If I was gone, she could at least delude herself into thinking I was being successful.
Also, my Grandma has a roommate at this place, and she irks me even more. The woman plays her tv SO LOUD. Like, it even gives me a headache, and I'm not the kind for headaches and am one of those teenagers who blasted their ears with the likes of Nirvana, AFI, and Alkaline Trio. The hell if I can hear. I would like to read my science book in peace without being distracted by some irritating design show about people with stupid condos who are way overpriced.