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How uneventful could this possibly be?  Well, let’s see.

John worked the late shift today and left for work shortly before 1:00PM.  Henrietta was up and fed, pooped, diapered, dressed and in the wheelchair by 1:45ish.  You’ve got to remember that she stays in bed until she is done on the bedpan for the day. (Hopefully.)  The “Big B.M.” is almost always around 1:00 to 1:30.

I just re-read that last paragraph and can see where there are some problems.  I used the term, “You’ve got to remember…”.  Actually, you don’t have to remember anything having to do with H’s poops.  I do, though.  *sigh*

OK, back on track!  I was attempting to communicate how uneventful this day has been.  After I got her dressed she asked if I could cut her hair for her as it was below her collar and bugging her a good deal.  So I got her in the chair and rolled her in the kitchen, threw a sheet around her and stopped to make the child a sandwich before she left for work.  Done. Back to H.  I sprayed her hair and chopped it off around the bottom, just as always and she was good to go.  About that time, the phone rang and the Housecall Dr. said she would be here in about 20 minutes.  So I muted the TV and gently swiveled H’s little head around so that she was looking at me, knelt down and screamed into her face that the new doctor was coming out to visit her.  This was met with the expected amount of horror and panic, as she simultaneously crossed herself, started muttering a hail Mary and felt for her own pulse.  I explained to her three or four times that, “She is just coming to meet you and get acquainted with your case so she can be your doctor!”  All at a decibel level approaching sonic boom.  I swear, this wears me out.  It is so hard to be constantly reassuring her about… everything, and having to scream it over and over and answer her questions because she is so panicked she isn’t paying attention.  And she is SO freakin paranoid.  Oh. My. Gawd.  You cannot begin to believe all the paranoia that we deal with on a regular basis.  When she first came to live with us, we went round and round with her about all the windows being locked.  There was just about no way to convince her that this was all done except show her that you were checking them.  The front door needed to stay locked all the time and she was just hoping and praying that the back one was.  It wasn’t quite as important as the front to her because we had a huge family dog.  In reality we never locked it and Hailee, (huge dog) slept at the back door and would have eaten anybody that came in the yard.  Very nearly did, several stupid meter readers that disregarded the warning sign.

She has slowly gotten better and now does not insist I lock the front door when John is at work.  However she pays entirely too much attention to the news on TV and the newspaper.  EVERYTHING is threatened by the evil somebodyoranother.  She is forever telling me that the reason the nurses ask her all the questions they do is because people try to “trick them and defraud the Medicare.  They have to make sure we’re not trying to trick them, so they ask us questions to see if we know how to answer.”  I swear, there is nothing tricky at all about the nurses visits or their questions.  “Appetite OK?”  “Blood pressure good?”  “Bowels moving?”  Oh, hell yeah.

Yeah.  Wonder what’s on TV tonight…