Finally there is a light at the end of our Covid tunnel

 

Our premier announced this morning further easing of our restrictions. The border between NSW and Victoria will be opened. As of midnight we no longer have to wear masks outdoors as long as we are socially distanced. We can have more people to our homes. We can visit cafes (as long as they observe certain conditions) and hopefully by Christmas we can have 30 people a day in our homes. Not that that is an issue for us - we don't know 30 people to invite!

Speaking of Christmas, it's becoming more and more of a hassle each year trying to get the boys and their families together. Because One and Three married into divorced families their Christmas gatherings have been spread out over days (and One and Ebs go to Bendigo because that's where her extended family is). I understand this but have got so pissed of that no one seems to take into consideration that THIS side of the family would like to spend time with their kids, wives and children on a day close to actual Christmas Day. I know I will never have them for Christmas Day but Boxing Day would have been nice. 

This year we are celebrating on the day AFTER Boxing Day - the challenge will now be for One and Three to work out who will host it as they both want to. 

This time last year I threw my hands up and said I would go on a cruise for Christmas from 2020 on. Well I guess that will never happen! You would have to pay me an enormous amount of money to even consider setting foot on a cruise liner. Ditto overseas flights at the moment, too.

Because of the years of angst around this time of year and the fact that Himself has always hated it my stress levels are currently heading skywards. Add to the mix that I now have to start looking for work again to keep being eligible for the benefit I'm on which supplements Himself's aged pension and I am not in a pleasant place at the moment. I have another 2.5 years before I am eligible for the pension and am applying for jobs but dumbing myself right down. And that really feels weird.

And on that note I shall go and peruse the job sites. 

A story of a haircut

 

Just over 3 years ago I decided that I wanted to go short and blue/grey. So I found a new hairdresser and proceeded to go down that path. I really enjoyed the blue (and pink and purple) but eventually went back to brown. It felt more appropriate seeing as I was working and all.

Then I stopped working and decided last year to go back down that path. I loved the result. The only downside? A hairstyle like that needs regular maintenance. In July after on and off again restrictions I had my hair cut short(ish) and didn't go with a colour waiting to do it the next time.

Then in August we went into severe stage 4 lockdown. Hairdressers couldn't operate. My regrowth was getting beyond a joke. So one evening I took a glass of wine and a pair of scissors into the bathroom and cut my hair. It was SO liberating. I cut it really, really short. Think "is that your scalp" short! Himself, bless him, tidied it up as best he could with his clippers. 

The bliss of getting under the shower in the morning and not having to worry about drying and styling (not that I did - I just looked damp and untidy).

Finally I could see some grey. I have been wanting to go grey for so long. I hate the inbetween stages and I really hate grey regrowth so my plan was to colour it grey as soon as I could. I also hate the look on (mainly) women who keep colouring their hair the same shade year after year after year without realising that their skin tone has changed and their hair looks unnatural (says she who went blue) and often harsh.

Anyway, Himself tidied it up again after a couple of weeks (it was rather uneven - whoops) and then today he did it again with new clippers (it was so long - easily a couple of centimetres). I love the look. I love the feel. And for the first time in my life I don't fucking care if someone thinks I look odd. At 64 I shall sport short hair and enjoy the freedom.

 

Finally

 

My mother in law loves dogs. Always has. More than people. I think she grieved the loss of her dogs more than those of family and friends. When we took her out from the ACF and there was a dog she made a beeline for it (not always with the best results as she could ever understand why a dog wouldn't want to say hello and being blind sometimes missed the obvious indications).

We had made an appointment to go and see her today and take her out to the carpark to meet Jinx. When I went to book in I was told that as of today pets were allowed inside. So with much delight we took Jinx in. It took a while to get to MIL as everyone wanted to say hello and have a pat. She was probably the first pet in the place in over 6 months. And she is rather cute. 

Finally we got to MIL and the pictures say more than words could. 

And when we got home there was an email from the facility to say we no longer have to make appointments so Himself can take Jinx in far more frequently for quick visits. This will make MIL very happy.

Finished!

This is one of the paintings Mads requested for one of the granddaughters. Little did I realise that this one lacked a lot of detail so I did the painting by the numbers then added my own bits. A LOT of my own bits. The garden at the bottom, the eyes of the unicorn, the sky, the fairy's dress and face and hair and the trees. OK - I basically changed the whole thing! I am pleased with how it turned out and have bought some glitter paint to make it more magical. 

I now have two more fairies to do but I'm hoping they are a bit more detailed so I won't have to wing it as much. I love paint by numbers because you can switch off to a degree but still get pleasure out of adding your own touches.

Today I caught up with my English student and we went to Spotlight then back to her place for coffee. It's a very basic flat but it's her own space. She told me of the challenges she had staying with relatives when she first came here (on a Humanitarian Visa) for four years until she was able to rent her place. She is obviously happy there. 

There is nothing like listening to what so many of our refugees and immigrants have gone through (and are still going through) to make one appreciate what we have here.

Beef stir fry tonight (Jinx will be happy - she gets the offcuts) and then tomorrow I am catching up with my crochet friends for a browse at our favourite yarn shop followed by lunch. Then we will be taking Jinx to finally meet MIL. The residents are now allowed to leave the facility after many, many months. We won't be going far - just to the bench at the front! I shall try to remember to take some photos of the much anticipated meeting!

Bits and bobs

 

When I went to collect Jinx I took a soft toy (sorry Sally). The breeder gave her a soft squeaky toy and I have bought another one since but this grey and white cat is still her favourite.

We went and saw MIL this morning. She wanted more moisturiser - to add to the 4 bottles she already has! And jam donuts. She was pleased to see us and not agitated like she was last week but she is still obviously all over the place with her thinking - some of which is really weird (imagine someone with an accent like Queen Elizabeth saying "I can NOT accept people having sex with animals").

Himself rehung the doors for me (they still need a clean up and paint but I can close the room off now). I rearranged everything and now have a desk area, a nice place to sit and watch the world go by and have my craft bits and pieces all to hand.

Yes, that is a painting of Elsa from Frozen! It's for Sally for Christmas.

I am loving my $30 desk.

Somewhere to sit and crochet or read or just be. With the rehung doors.

My all purpose table currently set up for painting. 

I took Jinx for a walk to the local off lead park where she had a wonderful time with another dog. They raced around and really enjoyed themselves. I am so pleased that she is getting the opportunities to interact with other dogs and appears to really get a kick out of it. I would hate to have a timid or overaggressive dog. When I got home, Two was here which was a lovely surprise. It's always nice to see a kid. Especially on their own. 

Himself is making a chicken curry for dinner. I am having a glass of wine and will now go and spend half an hour on the current painting. 

 

I pinched this from Chris. It really sums up how just about everyone must feel about 2020!

There is a sense that things are getting better here in Victoria but the northern hemisphere is facing a terrifying resurgence and the prospects of a very grim Christmas and winter. 

We took Jinx to the local dog park this morning for a good run. She has a friend who is another shepherd about the same age and also loves running with the big dogs. This afternoon we might take her to an off lead beach and see how she goes with the sea.

I couldn't get hold of MIL at all yesterday. The ACF rang just now to let us know that she is more settled today with less confusion and no hallucinations. The doctor saw her yesterday and ordered bloods to see if there is anything happening that can be treated to explain the increased confusion. 

The Mother in Law

When my brother-in-law's marriage ended in the mid '80s he moved back home with his parents for 6 months. And stayed there. He lived in the granny flat (an original granny flat - no running water or cooking facilities so used the ones in the house which he didn't have to clean or buy for) and paid a pittance in full board. He had his meals cooked for him, washing done and did nothing to contribute until later years when he retired and his parents started to become more and more frail. Then he would take them shopping and to medical appointments and the like BUT he got paid petrol money for that!

Anyway, this isn't going to turn into a rant about him much as I could. I harbour a lot of resentment there but that's another topic for another day.

Fast forward to 2018. He had been diagnosed with bowel cancer about 5 years earlier and when it was discovered it had already spread to his liver. He had surgery and was recommended chemotherapy but opted against it as he didn't like the sound of the side effects. I reminded him that the side effects of NOT having it could be worse but he buried his head in the sand and the inevitable happened. Early in 2018 he was told it was back and inoperable. He was still pretty much symptom free but the home front wasn't great. He hated his father (who was a bit of a bully especially towards my mother in law) and resented having to do things for him. Himself and I picked up the slack. I would take FIL to medical appointments and Himself took MIL (BIL had never actually gone to any appointments - just dropped them at the door and came back later to pick them up so had no idea what their issues were). MIL had a thorough assessment with a geriatrician and dementia was diagnosed in July 2018. She, of course, promptly forgot! FIL suffered from crippling gout and arthritis in his hands and was often hospitalised to get the pain under control. He would then go to rehab and would then discharge himself because he didn't like being told what to do. And because BIL was considered a responsible adult noone challenged him.

At the end of August BIL was admitted to hospital for the final time. Shortly after his death FIL was admitted to hospital with exacerbation of his pain. For the first time in her entire life MIL was at home by herself and it became very obvious that FIL, for all his bullying and bossiness, was the glue that was holding her together. We were told that he couldn't go home and to start looking for aged care facilities. MIL, still believing nothing was wrong with her, took some convincing but we found a place for both of them not far from us. Then it became obvious that FIL (who was 97) wasn't going anywhere. It was hell trying to explain to a mal-nourished, poorly medicated grieving woman with dementia what was going on. On the 8th October at 11.45 she was admitted to the ACF and at 12.45 we got the call to say FIL had died.

She has now been in the ACF for over 2 years. The care given is outstanding. The affection shown toward her by the staff is genuine. The meals are excellent and they are quick to address any issues which arise. Initially she was really unhappy being there and couldn't understand why she couldn't go home. Over the past couple of years she has become more accepting of her situation but is still not happy. We reassure her she is in the best place and she grudgingly accepts this.

Sadly, though, her dementia is progressing and becoming increasingly difficult to reason with. She does suffer from recurring urinary tract infections which cause her to become very confused with hallucinations but the care coordinator tells us that she has just finished a course of antibiotics and her urine isn't showing signs of infection which suggests that her current state of mind is down to the dementia. She thinks she is in someone's house with 30+ servants and that there is a fitness studio in it where everyone is obsessed with their genitalia. She is also wandering a lot (often looking for her husband who she is convinced is deliberately ignoring her) and consequently goes into other residents' rooms. This is a huge issue on many levels. When she was first admitted there was a woman who did exactly that - and would climb into MIL's bed and leave clothes in her room. I discussed it with the staff who fully understood my concerns and acknowledged that the woman had deteriorated quickly but the family refused to believe there was anything wrong with her and had her moved to another facility. 

We know that the chances are high that MIL will have to be moved into the "memory support unit" - a nice way of saying dementia unit. It's a locked unit for obvious reasons but they still get excellent care and the lifestyle people ensure appropriate activities are provided and they have their own little garden to sit in. 

I just don't know how MIL will cope not being able to wander around the building and gardens at her will. She hasn't shown much aggression at this stage but does occasionally have a flare of anger. And she is becoming very sexualised which is not uncommon with dementia - the old MIL would be mortified if she knew what she was talking about.

Yesterday she asked us to lend her 20cents so she could catch the tram home. Poor Himself is so miserable watching his mother becoming like this.

It's an awful, awful disease.

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This afternoon Himself got a call from the ACF telling us that MIL is getting increasingly confused - asking to be flown home to England among other things. It was a courtesy call but really hammered home how bad she is getting. She is still being her sweet self to staff and residents albeit very confused which is a blessing

. I forgot to mention earlier that she rang Himself at 2.00 this morning asking him to come and collect her and take her home. In my muddled sleepy state I had the presence of mind to tell him that his car had a flat tyre. That appeased her. And she forgot that I, too, have a car. Phew. Dodged that bullet. I hate lying to her but if it keeps her calm and reduces her agitation then that is the path we have to go down.