Tuesday, August 23, 2022

Tuesday, August 23, 2022 -- Mattie died 673 weeks ago today. 

Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2009. If you look closely you will see that Mattie was attached to several things.... oxygen and a pain pump. It was truly a horrific time in our lives, as we just found out Mattie's cancer spread throughout his body. That day, our friend Junko and her family dropped off this incredible Lego set. This beautiful kit took Peter and Mattie a few days to build. Legos were our therapy, as they enabled us to concentrate on something other than cancer, to chat together, and to unite around a common project. This Lego kit brought Mattie a great deal of fun and joy. 

Quote of the day: What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us. ~ Helen Keller

When I woke up this morning, I felt nauseous and had a violent headache. I knew a migraine was fast approaching. Despite how I felt I had to push through it, get myself showered, dressed, breakfast made, and my dad up, showered, and dressed. My dad had back to back therapy, both physical and occupational therapy at the hospital. I always leave an hour to commute by car to get to these appointments as I never know the traffic I will encounter. But then I have to factor in parking and getting my parents up to the lobby. Once in the lobby, I get my mom settled and with hot tea, while I take my dad to the outpatient clinic. Needless to say, I felt a great deal of pressure this morning to get out the door on time. As I literally have to herd my parents to make any time deadline. 

This week my dad will be discharged from occupational therapy. I think they feel he has plateaued and that we can maintain the therapy at home. So that means we are now done with speech and occupational therapy, but physical therapy will continue in October. I think all of my dad's therapists are lovely, but I do think being in one's late twenties provides a MUCH DIFFERENT perspective than let's say someone my age and with my experiences. 

The occupational therapist today asked my dad what kinds of activities he likes to do. She was asking, because she is looking for ways to keep him physically active. His response was "I like relaxing." Any case, I told her that my dad is motivated by food. So she asked him what his favorite food was? He answered, "fish," of all things. I then told her that my dad loves cookies. Her idea is if he wants cookies, he has to go into the grocery store and buy them, otherwise no cookies. This is where the insights of maturity and being a full-time caregiver comes in! There is NO POSSIBLE way that my dad can do anything independently. So to give him this assignment is literally giving me ONE MORE THING TO DO! Not only that, I grocery shop with my dad if he showed even 1/100th of interest. But he has NO interest or desire to do anything. 

When I got home today, I found these lovely cards on my desk. Peter got them for me. That may not seem like a big deal, but to me it is. It is our common symbol for Mattie and with all that we have going on, Peter always thinks about me. 

Later today, Peter and I went back down to the basement. Peter has been working through ALL THESE BOXES for months. This is what our basement looked like in December!

This is our current view! If it weren't for Peter, I would still have the boxes floor to ceiling. I honestly don't have the where with all to deal with any of this. 

Not sure about you, but to me this looked daunting. Keep in mind that before my parent's moved in, Peter and I packed up our home of 20+ years in the District of Columbia months before and moved to this house. So we had just completed one big move, when another one was thrust upon me. 

A cleared out space! Eventually I will figure out how we want to use this space, but for now this will do. The beds you see here belonged to Peter's mom and Peter's aunt. Peter's grandfather made the headboards for the girls when they were children. These beds were handed down to us and Mattie used them! Therefore as you can imagine they had sentimental value to us.