Pat_Elliott
<font color=blue>Kimberly's proud papa!</font><br>
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2001
- Messages
- 1,213
Hi Ya'll!
I told Amy I'm simply calling her updates "Amy Update." She feels important to have first name impact, like Elvis. Well, maybe not like Elvis.
A quick update. After a very long weekend, Amy's at her new home for two months, a retirement community in the Danville area. It was a tough day for us. We took up two cars full of stuff, one with Amy's clothes and affects, the other with her computer equipment and so-forth. For once I was able to use my acquired skills and experience for someone I really like! I put her together a first-class computer room, complete with all the modifications necessary to let her work yet stay within doctor's restrictions.
The place she's staying is first rate. She's got a room on the ground floor. It's small, but it holds her bed, her computer gear, and a TV (a big Tour de France fan, she'll at least have something to watch for the next three weeks). She's got her own bathroom. And if she wants the heck out of her living cubicle, they put her right next to a little alcove that's got a big screen TV and several couches, so she can go out at night and feel like she's going to "the living room" but not have to walk more than ten feet. There are several of these little places all over. After about 7 PM, most of the residents (all of them, from what I saw) go to their rooms, watch TV and sleep, so she'll work 8-5 (with lots of naps), eat, come back and watch TV, then have the run of the joint at 7 PM. The nurses seem very excited to have someone their own age around at night, and are pampering Amy.
Although the food is about what you'd expect from a nursing home, there's plenty of it, and she's got access to "snacks" 24/7. The care is good, the facility clean, and the location perfect with regards to the facility.
The psychological aspects are improving. Monday (move in day) was a daze, but Tuesday was excruciating. I woke up about 5 AM to get ready to return to State College for work and Amy had a complete breakdown for the better part of an hour, wanting to be home, in her own bed, with her cat and her backyard and me. It really broke my heart. But being Amy, she snapped to, smiled and said "I'm ok now" and we moved on.
In the four days she's been there, she's slipped into a semi-routine. The best part was getting the phone connected so she could work. That gives her purpose and distraction. In the end, she's away from home & me and sleeping on a strange bed, but beyond that she's got a groove going. Today she sees her new doctor and we're hoping the bill of health remains clean.
As for me, it's sure a big old empty house when I go home. I've never mentioned we have a cat, Spike, who's been diagnosed with renal failure. I rescued Spike from the SPCA in 1986 (I've known him almost five years longer than Amy). He's been a good friend and companion. He was diagnosed with chronic renal failure in January 2001 and they basically told me he'd be dead in three months, get used to it. With proper diet and loving care, he remains a happy cat. Due to age he can't hear a thing, and his eye site is going. But he sure loves life (especially laying out on the deck in the sun). I've had to give him IV treatments (sub-Q, actually) every other day for 2.5 years, and two rounds of pills per day, and he could do without that. But otherwise, he's a happy pappy. And now, more than ever, that little guy gets me through. You know you're living alone when you progress from saying "Here, Kitty Kitty" to reading the financial section of the USA Today to him. We watched Big Brother last night. Spike confided that he thinks Amada is a snake, but if he had a vote he'd toss out Julie Chen.
So Spike and I are adjusting to living alone. I'm speaking with Amy every night at 9 (I'm on the "all you can gab after 9 PM" Verizon cell plan). We've already developed a ritual where as we hang up, she holds the phone to her belly so I can say goodnight to Kimberly, and I hold the phone down so she can say goodnight to Spike. Then she warns me of the consequences of not doing the dishes and encourages me to continue to put the toilet seat down even though I'm alone for the time being (hates to ruin twelve years of training, I guess). I have to stay home this weekend due to business commitments, but after that I'll be taking every Friday off and spending a long weekend there. Naturally, Amy enjoys seeing me, but she also likes me there because she cherishes such things as pizza and hoagies in place of what she calls "Purina Geriatric Chow." Of course, I only bring her doctor approved food!
That's all for now. Tonight I plan on tackling how to attached the child seat to the Camry. I know I've got two months to do this, but I made need all sixty days. No one ever said fatherhood would take technical competence.
As always, thanks for your support! Almost forgot, we're in week 29. Time marches on!
Pat
I told Amy I'm simply calling her updates "Amy Update." She feels important to have first name impact, like Elvis. Well, maybe not like Elvis.
A quick update. After a very long weekend, Amy's at her new home for two months, a retirement community in the Danville area. It was a tough day for us. We took up two cars full of stuff, one with Amy's clothes and affects, the other with her computer equipment and so-forth. For once I was able to use my acquired skills and experience for someone I really like! I put her together a first-class computer room, complete with all the modifications necessary to let her work yet stay within doctor's restrictions.
The place she's staying is first rate. She's got a room on the ground floor. It's small, but it holds her bed, her computer gear, and a TV (a big Tour de France fan, she'll at least have something to watch for the next three weeks). She's got her own bathroom. And if she wants the heck out of her living cubicle, they put her right next to a little alcove that's got a big screen TV and several couches, so she can go out at night and feel like she's going to "the living room" but not have to walk more than ten feet. There are several of these little places all over. After about 7 PM, most of the residents (all of them, from what I saw) go to their rooms, watch TV and sleep, so she'll work 8-5 (with lots of naps), eat, come back and watch TV, then have the run of the joint at 7 PM. The nurses seem very excited to have someone their own age around at night, and are pampering Amy.
Although the food is about what you'd expect from a nursing home, there's plenty of it, and she's got access to "snacks" 24/7. The care is good, the facility clean, and the location perfect with regards to the facility.
The psychological aspects are improving. Monday (move in day) was a daze, but Tuesday was excruciating. I woke up about 5 AM to get ready to return to State College for work and Amy had a complete breakdown for the better part of an hour, wanting to be home, in her own bed, with her cat and her backyard and me. It really broke my heart. But being Amy, she snapped to, smiled and said "I'm ok now" and we moved on.
In the four days she's been there, she's slipped into a semi-routine. The best part was getting the phone connected so she could work. That gives her purpose and distraction. In the end, she's away from home & me and sleeping on a strange bed, but beyond that she's got a groove going. Today she sees her new doctor and we're hoping the bill of health remains clean.
As for me, it's sure a big old empty house when I go home. I've never mentioned we have a cat, Spike, who's been diagnosed with renal failure. I rescued Spike from the SPCA in 1986 (I've known him almost five years longer than Amy). He's been a good friend and companion. He was diagnosed with chronic renal failure in January 2001 and they basically told me he'd be dead in three months, get used to it. With proper diet and loving care, he remains a happy cat. Due to age he can't hear a thing, and his eye site is going. But he sure loves life (especially laying out on the deck in the sun). I've had to give him IV treatments (sub-Q, actually) every other day for 2.5 years, and two rounds of pills per day, and he could do without that. But otherwise, he's a happy pappy. And now, more than ever, that little guy gets me through. You know you're living alone when you progress from saying "Here, Kitty Kitty" to reading the financial section of the USA Today to him. We watched Big Brother last night. Spike confided that he thinks Amada is a snake, but if he had a vote he'd toss out Julie Chen.
So Spike and I are adjusting to living alone. I'm speaking with Amy every night at 9 (I'm on the "all you can gab after 9 PM" Verizon cell plan). We've already developed a ritual where as we hang up, she holds the phone to her belly so I can say goodnight to Kimberly, and I hold the phone down so she can say goodnight to Spike. Then she warns me of the consequences of not doing the dishes and encourages me to continue to put the toilet seat down even though I'm alone for the time being (hates to ruin twelve years of training, I guess). I have to stay home this weekend due to business commitments, but after that I'll be taking every Friday off and spending a long weekend there. Naturally, Amy enjoys seeing me, but she also likes me there because she cherishes such things as pizza and hoagies in place of what she calls "Purina Geriatric Chow." Of course, I only bring her doctor approved food!
That's all for now. Tonight I plan on tackling how to attached the child seat to the Camry. I know I've got two months to do this, but I made need all sixty days. No one ever said fatherhood would take technical competence.
As always, thanks for your support! Almost forgot, we're in week 29. Time marches on!
Pat
Hope that work helps keep her occupied and the "Purina Geriatric Chow" is not too bad. Continue with updates when you can. 
