Making Haste Slowly (or Caretaker Recovery)

So, yes, there's been quite a gap between posts due to illness and a sudden onset of grief. I had really hoped to be further along with the clear out than this.  From the beginning of this whole clear out progress, I noticed I could only work in short spurts. I would be short of breath or nauseated or extremely fatigued. I wondered why.  I still was putting a goodly amount of stuff on the curb for the trash man but my donation piles were becoming smaller.
By Christmas, I cleared a pathway to my sliding door,  By February my extra large walk-in closet (my spare room which has the most ceiling water damage had a path to the windows. My cats started sunning themselves on top of the under window bookcases. I was making progress. Then I came down with an upper respiratory infection. Fearing another bout of last year's bronchitis, I got to the doctor. Took the antibiotic but also took it easily.  The trash pile dwindled to sickroom debris. As I came off the antibiotic, my gastrointestinal track went kablooey as  my appetite dwindled to nothing. The blues hit big time as did grief and I realized that I needed help. Checked with my insurance provider and started the hunt for psychological help. I also made an appointment with my doctor.

So- this is what I've found out so far:

• There are a bunch of tests out there I 'got to' take- some blood, some I had to provide samples of stool, and some diagnostic tools. The stool sample was one of those Catch 22 deals.I had to solve some issues myself beforehand - the ones that brought me to the doctor in the first place- to get a decent sample. Not something I'd want to collect again anytime soon. 
• I don't have celiac disease. So I don't have to be on a gluten free diet. Good news because the foods I'll eat when I have no appetite almost certainly have gluten in them. I widened my food choices. Instead of "I can't have that", it's been "That I can have."  Still- the whole exercise made me more aware about what I eat.
• From the x-rays, the pitter patter of my heart and my shortness of breath are not caused by problems with my heart and lungs.
• I really need to watch myself. I tend to plunge into things too quickly, Instead of self/advice-diagnosing myself,spending money on foodstuffs I don't need to have. Since gluten free stuff has a short shelf life (and takes longer to cook, has a different taste, etc.)  And I need to stop myself from rushing out and buying what Dr. Oz says may "cure me".  I found homes for the gluten free stuff with families that need it.
• The best thing I did was to give up Mail/Web shopping for Lent. Amazon Prime especially makes it so easy to buy things.  Like the aforementioned gluten free stuff and Oz cures. From the stuff I've been clearing out, I've been seeing a lot of waste. Expired medications and herbal cures. Expired food. Just junk. Junk no one else would want.  And a lot that makes me stop and ask myself "What were you thinking when you bought this?"  Retail Therapy has huge drawbacks.
• I have a lot of unresolved anger and frustration about what happened these last ten years and before that- from job changes and challenges to caregiving to hospice, to Mom's death, to Jessie's near death and special treatments, etc. I recognized that I was setting myself up for a fall with all the changes I was going through added to all the changes I made this past year and a couple of months. I recognized that -by the stress list alone- I was setting myself up for something to happen when I retired. But just the idea of staying on the job was stressful, frustrating producing, and limiting that I was willing to risk whatever happened to avoid it.
• The good news is that I'm not so far gone blues-wise that I need to go on anti-depressives.
• The bad news is that I get to go to specialists to find out what is physically wrong. Every now and then Acid Reflux comes back. Can't find a trigger.
• The good news is that the music Pandora finds that sounds like Pat Metheny's Last Train Home is fairly energizing. And available via the Kindle.
• The mixed news is that I have been advised to do something creative in addition to my clear out work. And this blog with its one cherished follower is it.

Back to work!!!

 

The Not So Blank Slate

My backyard -tiny as it is- used to be my refuge. No matter how chaotic my house or my life got, I could go to my garden and escape.  The summer sky I'd painted on my back fence was always blue - no matter what was happening in the real sky.  When my mother came to live with me, she, too, liked my garden. We used to sit out there and read the Sunday paper. One of the neighborhood cats used to come visit and curl up in my lap- much to the displeasure of my own cats. But, as her dementia took hold of her, she became careless and uncaring. She'd leave clothing or paper out there. She'd let one of my cats who was strictly a house cat out and leave her out there. I'd come home to wet and ruined clothing and newspapers and a frantic cat.

As Mom became worse and more of an invalid, the way to the garden was blocked and I couldn't spare the time to care for it.  The garden became overgrown.

 

 

I wish that it looked as picturesque as the garden above.

 

The land takes untended spaces back. Florida's long growning season takes the process a step further. It went native. Big time.

 

This past August, I paid the man who mows my lawn to clear it out. He and a friend went at it with much vigor and thoroughness. And far exceeded my expectations. He left my two trees, my hydrangea bush, and my gardenia bush. Everything else was purged- including the first thing I planted- my azalea bush. All that was left was the stump. Chairs, pots, ornaments, figurines, hoses, border fencing, and tables went into a pile.  It looked pretty bleak back there. I was in a state of shock but consoled myself that this was an opportunity to start over anew.A blank slate. But I was going to miss the azalea's magenta flowers come spring.

 

I'd given myself a pep talk and a deadline to be able to get out door to the garden by Christmas. I did it by Boxing Day night.  Today was an unseasonably warm day and I went out to the garden to see what survived the onslaught. I dug through the pile rescuing and putting chairs back into place, started putting things in a pile to be taken to the curb, and tried to figure out what I could do with what was left. I noticed a patch of green about the size of a dinner platter. I frowned but then my eyes widened. The leaves looked very familiar and were growing around the stumps of the old azalea bush.  I may not have any magenta azalea flowers in this spring, but, perhaps, by the next.

 

 



Taking Back My Life or What Hurricane Debby Did For Me.

This past summer, I was taking my time trying to get my life back to normal. Or the next best thing to normal. Before my bout of major depression. Before Dad died. Before 9/11. Before changes in my job. Before Hurricane Charley changed my mother's life and -by extension- mine. Before my cancer scare and operation. Before care taking Mom. Before breaking my pelvis. Before Mom went into hospice. Before fracturing my foot. Before her death. Before all that was happening the past 15 years. I was still working. Every day off was spent resting up for the next go-around of workdays. I was not getting much done. Tropical Storm Beryl came and went stripping more shingles off my roof. "Gotta get to re-roofing. Someday.", I told myself. Even my still small voice was speaking up less.

 

 

Then Hurricane Debby charged across from the Gulf to the Atlantic. And water started dripping from my skylight. And wet spots started forming elsewhere. So--my "Gotta-get-to" became "Get it done." First, I needed to deal with all the stuff that had been piling up. Things I had put aside and not dealt with. I started on my miniature foyer and stairway.Clearing paths. Adjusters and contractors' reps came and went. A new leak started downstairs, A tarp went on the roof in early October. The roof was repaired in late October. We had a dry spell. At the end of November, it rained and the skylight leak returned. So- I made the decision to replace all three skylights. This was something my insurance company declined to pay for- not that I was counting on them to do so.

Now the inside work needs to be done. But first comes major decluttering and disposing, So every trash day my curb looks like this times 4 or 5.  Add another trash can, boxes, and more bags.

And I'm donating stuff.

 

I wish I could say that I'm seeing lots of progress. But I'm not. My stress-drained energy levels haven't made a comeback.  I'm still coping with acid reflux based nausea that started as I was leaving the workplace. I'm slowly going gluten free to deal with it but I think there's something else in play. I'm also going to get acupuncture treatments. Until the classes broke for Christmas, I took Tai Chi and Yoga classes for exercise and to deal with stress.

 

Plus, here's an emotional toll to this process. I have to force myself to do this and I'm not always good at strong arming myself. Decluttering means coming across Mom's stuff. It's all over the place. As the dementia took hold, filing systems disintegrated. It has to be sorted through for estate purposes. Coming across stuff from the person I was 15 years ago. It's baffling. Why did I keep this? Did I actually wear stuff like this? What is this thing? Christmas presents I meant to give bob up in the ocean of boxes and piles. I put them aside in their own box so they don't disappear again. I figure I'm set for office supplies for years to come.

 

I'm good at cutting myself breaks. Too good. I let myself watch entire runs of series on Netflix and on Amazon Prime. I have the relaxation part of my new gig down. The self-motivating part- not so much. I know I'll function better without so much stuff. I just have to convince myself that getting rid of the accumulation doesn't mean that I'm getting rid of what I really and truly need.