Thursday, 13 December 2018


I'm not sure what to call the mama of my grandbaby.  She and my son were only together for a short time and she's done with him but not us thankfully.  I think here, I will call her Gracie.

So Gracie is going for another ultrasound today.  The baby's kidneys are slightly enlarged which of course I had to google.  Hydronephrosis, or enlarged kidneys, can be benign and fix itself at birth, so I've got my fingers crossed and am hoping for that.  Apparently it's quite common, 1 in 100 pregnancies.  I pray for the little guy every night, pray that he is healthy and normal, pray that he is nothing like his dad.  It's all I can do.

I wrote a letter to my son, I told him that he needs to get sober and stay sober.  I told him that he is not welcome in our home until he is sober.  I told him that his son needs him.  I told him that although I don't trust him, I do love him.  It's all I can do.

I'm off today which means Christmas baking, shopping for yard and fabric and walking the dog.  We had freezing rain here on Monday which has turned everything into a skating rink.  I told the dog that I would walk her in the daylight when I can see the ice better.  She didn't seem to understand or care for that matter.  She's curled up on the chair beside me right now, sleeping hard.

Christmas is coming and with it the familiar dread.  It's strange really;  I love the lead up to Christmas, the shopping, the baking, even the decorating but the actual day is always a let down.  It's never as good as I would like or imagine.  In my head is one big happy family where everyone gets along, where people laugh and have a good time, where there is no drama, no tension, no drinking ( because even normal drinking now bothers me ), where it truly feels like Christmas.  Of course none of this is real, it's what I've made up in my head, watching thousands of hours of TV, commercials and movies.  I have been fed a constant diet of fake Christmas since I was a child and it sits in my head and pushes out real Christmas.

My best Christmas was the year after my ex-husband and I split up.  Katie came for supper and my two other kids.  My mum was still alive;  she was there too.  We had supper, Katie stayed at the supper table after she was done eating because I gave her the gingerbread house to deconstruct and eat.  We lingered at the table, relaxed.  While I drove Katie back to her place, my mum and kids cleaned up everything.  When I got back home we sat and watched a Big Bang marathon, ate peppermint cheesecake, laughed and relaxed.  My mum was still alive and healthy.  My son had not gone down the rabbit hole too far at this point.  Neither my ex-husband nor my father were around to darken everything with their mood.  It was my best Christmas.  Nothing special really, no TV movie moments, just peaceful and enjoyable.

What was your favorite Christmas memory?




Sunday, 9 December 2018



I took Lucy for a walk yesterday afternoon on the paths behind our house.  It was four but already the light was waning, painting the sky beautiful colors.

I put up my Christmas tree yesterday and wrapped some presents to put under it.  I hate putting up the tree but always enjoy it so much when it's up.  I love unwrapping all of the old ornaments and taking a wander down memory lane.  I have one ornament from Katie's first Christmas, a photo of her at six months, inside a tiny frame.  It's hard to believe she was so little.


So I'm baking cookies, sending off a few cards to people overseas and decorating the house.  It feels more like Christmas.  We went to our Christmas party on Friday night which was nice.  I had a glass of wine which is enough to enjoy but not enough to tell people how I really feel about them, although I'm pretty sure my face and body language does that for me. 

Our medical director however got pretty drunk and in a speech told us all that he's trying harder, he's kind of a dick.  He and I are a lot alike I think which is why we clash so much.  Not sure if he knows that.  

My bathroom reno is finished so I have a toilet in my bathroom again which is nice.  A little paint touch up today and it's done.  

Today I'm thankful for a peaceful home, filled with love.


Wednesday, 5 December 2018


We had a tough day Monday at work, short staffed, very sick patients.  We were asked to add on a central line and I said no and then the circumstances were shared with me.  A forty-nine year old man with end stage ALS who needed IV access for MAID (medical assistance in dying).  We couldn't say no, I wouldn't say no.

I don't know if I've ever cared for someone with ALS and I've certainly never met anyone at the end of their life with ALS.  It wasn't like "Tuesdays With Morrie", to be honest, it was awful.  He was surrounded by family who all obviously love him and cared for him but he was unable to move anything other than his eyes.  He couldn't even swallow his own saliva which upset me the most for some reason and needed constant suctioning.  And his eyes, to only be able to communicate with your eyes seems so isolating, so terrifying.

I sent my two young coworkers to take care of him during his line insertion.  There were two doctors in the room too and family members.  Special circumstances, in honor of his time here on earth.  I've been with patients who are preparing for MAID before and it is always an honor to help them, to make sure that everything will go well for them as they leave their loved ones.

This morning I googled his name and he died on Monday after he left us.  It was so nice to see a photo of him when he was healthy and full of life, he had such lovely eyes.

It always amazes me and saddens me to see people suffer so much before they die.  We all die and we all suffer in our own ways, both mentally and physically.  What might be suffering for one might not be suffering for another, but I'm not a fan of physical suffering.  It seems cruel and unnecessary.

I'm thankful my patient got to decide how his life ended.

Friday, 30 November 2018


This is an old photo from a few years ago, Southern Alberta, on our way to Waterton National Park.  It's beyond beautiful there.

I didn't work on Tuesday because my back was so sore on Monday, my whole body was sore on Monday actually.  So I took a muscle relaxant, slept in, puttered around the house, went for a walk with the dog and worked on my grandson's quilt.  By the end of the day my body felt much less battered.


I feel stress in my body.  First it was my stomach, then it was my muscles.  I saw the doctor on Wednesday and I asked for a bunch of xrays of my sore and aching joints.  Good news, arthritis in only one joint, my left knee, which means that my pain is soft tissue pain which I can do something about.  So I'll see a physiotherapist and try to be kinder to my poor body.  I felt like an eighty year old woman on Monday.  I'm back to a fifty-six year old woman today.  Fucking stress.

I seem to be obsessed with aging and death lately.  In part, I'm sure because of where I work, but also because I am aging and I will die.  Mortality kind of shoves itself in your face after fifty.  I wonder how much longer I will live.  What that life will look like.

When my father was fifty-five he had open heart surgery.  This was in 1975 and it was a big deal.  I was thirteen at the time and my younger brother would have been eleven.  I can imagine my father must have been terrified at the thought of leaving his wife and two youngish children alone.  He survived.  At some point he must have read or heard a statistic that people only lived about ten years on average after open heart surgery.  He was obsessed with his death for the last fourteen years of his live.  I'm beginning to understand why now.

My father was a control freak and I may be as well (cough, cough).  There are so many things I want to do and I feel life slipping away, even knowing that really, I only have today.  I'm guessing that this is all part of the aging process, reconciling the knowledge that I will die, with the knowledge that I am not yet dead and want to enjoy the time between now and my death, all the time not knowing when that death will occur.

In the mean time I will walk the dog, work on the quilt and tomorrow the big guy and I will take Katie to watch a swim meet organized by the new agency that is caring for her.  I'm guessing there will be cheering and clapping which Katie loves.  She will get a chance to socialize with her peers and we will get to meet some of the best people in the world.  What better way to spend my time.

Thursday, 22 November 2018


I had plans for today, the universe had other plans for me apparently.  I've been doing bathroom renos for awhile and I was breaking up the old vanity with a sledgehammer when something jumped up and hit me.  Still not sure what happened but plans changed.  Nothing is broken and no stitches required so I'm thankful.

I decided the pity party needed to end now so time to move on with life.  I'm going Christmas shopping today and will take myself out to lunch.  The dog will get a nice long walk because it's warm here right now and the ice has melted.  I'm thankful.

My son will be in jail for awhile which means he's sober and safe.  I'm thankful.  I also blocked his calls so I don't need to dread my phone ringing.  I'm thankful.

It was a year ago today that my girlfriend told me that no further treatment could be done for her cancer.  She died last May and I am so thankful I got to know her.  She inspired me to learn how to quilt.  She made over three hundred quilts in her lifetime and gave them all away.

No housework today.  No renos.  No baking.  No quilting.   No work.  Time, the gift of time to do as I please.

Things I'm thankful for.

I'm healthy.
My family is healthy.
My little dog who is snoring on the chair beside me as I type.
Hugs from the big guy.
Katie is happy and enjoying her life.  And she got to see Santa last weekend.


As you can see, she's a huge fan of Santa.
My middle daughter is loving her new job and is coming for Christmas.
Good books.
A job I enjoy and I home I love.

What are you thankful for today?

Saturday, 17 November 2018


It's been a difficult week.  My son is back in jail.  Apparently he had a no contact order with his girlfriend from back in July, before she got pregnant.  Both of them ignored the order, he moved in and she got pregnant.  He's been drinking and using drugs heavily.  Monday night he was high on crystal meth, I'm guessing, hallucinating, yelling, scaring his girlfriend.

She wanted him out of the apartment and was yelling at him.  The police were called and he wouldn't let her open the door for the police because of the no contact order.  So the door was smashed in and both of them were handcuffed until it got sorted out.  So my son is back in jail.  Emma is alone with a broken down door and wants nothing to do with my son.  I can't blame her.  I feel the same way.

I'm done with him.  This has been going on for almost twenty years.  Each time I think it can't get any worse, it does.  The lies, the drinking, the drugs, the porn, the promiscuity.

I am a na├»ve, gullible woman, especially when it comes to my children, but in general as well.  When I was a child I remember watching a TV show about a court trial, both sides promised to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.  I thought to myself, what a wonderful idea.  Everyone tells the truth and everything will get sorted out right away.  There is still a part of me that believes this.

Last month I was assaulted at work by a coworker.  This woman used to rent our condo from us. She was chronically late with her rent, everything was always an issue, she moved a dog into the condo without asking us and took fifteen months to pay her damage deposit.  She was angry with me because I told her the condo was filthy when she left it and I charged her for cleaning it.  She also broke the dishwasher, wrecked the brand new countertops and let black mold grow in the bathroom.  I was standing in the hallway talking to a doctor when someone hip checked me from behind and then hit me in the back with their elbow.  I looked around and saw her walking down the hallway.  I yelled, "Excuse me?" down the hall at her and she just ignored me.

So I complained and of course it's my word against her word.  She says it was an accident and I can't prove that she hit me in the back because only her and I felt that.  I did get into trouble for yelling at her, so there's that.  This woman fucks up her job all the time.  She abuses people verbally on the phone.  She hides work instead of doing her work.  She is responsible for out of province billing and just doesn't bother doing it, losing our departments thousands of dollars.  She's a liar and spends most of the day on her phone.  I do my job, I don't lie and I am not believed.  WTF!

I'm kind of done with people in general right now.  Tired of being lied to.  Tired of shit.  I want to hide away for awhile.

As for my grandchild, I'm not sure what to do.  I know my heart won't take losing another grandchild and yet, being in that child's life will surely break my heart as well.