Sad Stuff

 I went in to see my “usual” 89 year old client, whom I’ve gotten kind of attached to. She and I chit chat like we are old buddies. So to make a long story short, there’s an issue. She called the nurse with the issue when I was with her yesterday. The on call nurse said to take two certain medications, so I gave them to her. Today, the issue had not been resolved, so she called the on call nurse again- who now said to go to the ER. So I had to call 911 and get an ambulance. They came and took her, I tidied up her place a bit, and left at 10:15 or so. Gift card boss said I’m still getting paid until noon, but even if I wasn’t, that’s ok. 

I googled the potential issue that the on call nurse said it might be, and it’s a fatal problem. If it is indeed this problem, she has a very short time left on this earth. But we don’t know that it’s that, there need to be imaging to confirm. 

I came home and did a couple of chores before Kevin was expected to get home from Louisiana this evening. Then I crapped out and fell asleep for a few hours. I realized that I fell asleep after starting laundry, so had to rewash it. Kevin got home at about 7:45. 

I would have rather been with him at the Cajun grocery stores than getting attached to another elderly person the last few months and losing them. But it is what it is, and things happen for a reason. 

I wish I could find a therapist to process things with. I emailed a couple more on psychology today, and they haven’t gotten back to me. I hate feeling rejected by therapists. It’s ten times worse than getting rejected after a job interview. Actually, it may be 50 times worse. 

I have to get back to the grind tomorrow with the 11am-7pm couple really far away with the poodle that they call “the baby” and “our youngest daughter.”  Actually, what do I mean “back to the grind”?  Wasn’t I already in the grind?  I only worked an hour and 15 minutes today and slept most of the day, but I was extremely drained. I was so drained that 8 hours with them tomorrow will be less draining. 

Tidbits

 I stepped on the scale this morning, and it said 200.0 so I’ve lost about 6 pounds. I feel like I’m just losing boobs, and that’s it. But weight loss isn’t the number one goal. The number one goal is to make my muscles feel better. And boy do they!!!

Weight loss is the #2 goal.

I only worked 3 hours this morning with my “regular” 89 year old client that requests me all the time.  I put regular in quotes because of musical schedules.  It was all overtime! This was my first time getting overtime with gift card boss.  

Then, I went to yet another location of fitness connection.  I went to the women’s only workout room.  I did about 5,000 steps on an incline on the treadmill.  (My step count was already at 5,000 when I got there.)  Then I did “hip abduction” and “hip adduction” machines, one arm/chest press machine, two leg machines and the ab crunch machine.  

I came home and did some housework including a complete sweeping of the house, starting in all corners and detailed sweeping all to the middle of the living room.  My daughter has always been super good at this chore and would get $10 for it whenever I wanted it done. But she won’t be home for a couple weeks! 😭 

That’s one of the things about an empty nest.  You have to do their chores now. 

I did it all before work!! 🏋️‍♂️ 🏃🏻‍♀️

This is what my doctor replied in the patient portal when I messaged him last night about the Walmart pharmacist’s unhinged phone call. 

I also told him that I transferred my other prescriptions to HEB.  It seems like HEB will fill it with no problem,

But wow that phone call came out of nowhere. The most they may have me do is show my ID. 

This morning, I went to the gym at 5:30 am. I’m looking for a new gym, but still have this membership. I did 7,500 steps on the treadmill and five machines. Only four of the machines was I successfully able to do 3-4 reps of 8-12. The machine below was a fail. You are lying flat on your back and doing crunches. No thanks, at least not yet. I’m better off on the regular a machine where you pull up and your elbows and knees kind of crunch together. 

The other machines that I did were ones I’ve never done before. This location was set up in such a way that you could see the machines from the treadmill area. So I could watch people on certain machines and then step off the treadmill to go do my reps on it whenever they were finished. 

This gym day combined with my park day yesterday have me feeling really great. My arms, legs, and core definitely feel like that awful feeling was pushed out. Yes I told the doc this yesterday, and he said “Working out helps everything.”  Mind you, he said the muscle thing was “anxiety.”  It’s not. It’s a physical issue. 😊 

 

Earth Day 🌳 🌍

 Happy Earth Day 🌱! 

This picture was taken 13 years ago today when my daughter decided to celebrate Earth Day by picking up trash. 

I sent her this picture as a reminder, and she responded that she was doing the same thing today. San Marcos has an annual river clean up. 

I really did get such an awesome kid. 

I fell off the bandwagon with exercise when my mother told one of my cousins about it. “Oh, Danielle’s been walking in the park and going to the gym.”  Sounds like a harmless conversation, until they started accusing me of “trying to uphold society’s beauty standards.”  

I got extremely discouraged and depressed and stopped going. 

I have never felt pressured by society to be thin. 

Maybe some other people feel that pressure, but I’ve personally never experienced it. I have been shamed by some for things they consider “upholding the patriarchy” and maybe this is one of them. I will say that exercise and working out has made me feel really really good. Like I’ve said, I have a very uncomfortable feeling in my muscles that this has really helped. It wouldn’t matter to them how I feel, though. I really let my cousin’s remarks get to me. 

This morning, however, I got back on the bandwagon. I went to the park with Kevin, did 6,000 steps, and worked out on three of their workout machines there. 

Then in the afternoon, I had a doctor appointment which was a follow up ever since he gave me phentermine for weight loss a month ago. He said I lost 6 pounds since my last visit. (I was wearing the same thing as last month.) He also said I could have a higher dose of phentermine or stay where I was and I asked for the higher dose. He submitted it, then a few hours later, the pharmacist called me from the Walmart pharmacy and was absolutely belligerent and pretty verbally abusive about how phentermine is a controlled substance. I was caught off guard. They have acted like this before about gabapentin, but I was still speechless. This pharmacist was REALLY nasty about it and I just told him not to fill it and hung up. I kind of fell apart after that phone call. It’s one thing to have pushback from someone who doesn’t matter, like my cousin, but a pharmacist is in some sort of position of authority. More so than a random family member. 

I do have another follow up on May 27th, but I don’t think I can go through with this “weight loss plan” any more. At least not with the doctor. The doctor is my PCP.  I had really never heard of phentermine before last month, and I’m so confused why the Walmart pharmacy would treat me like some sort of drug seeker because I went for a follow up and the dose was increased by my doctor. 

I would really like to eventually get down to about 165. I’m going to have to try and not let set backs get me down. I also want to feel better from this unnameable problem in my muscles. I really really need to push back on the haters. And who knew someone could have haters for this. 

On the work front:  I’m going to be working with the 11-7 couple for the next four days at least. That will put me into overtime part of Friday and all of Saturday. Someone actually no call, no showed to them today. Gift card boss actually called instead of texted, at 11:30, to see if I could go. But I was driving home from the park, sweaty, no scrubs in the car to change into, and I had the afternoon appointment. 

It was a little bit of a challenge to help her in the kitchen the other night and do things entirely her way, but honestly, I did learn a couple kitchen tips/tricks from that fiasco. Don’t you know, the next day, she wanted to make a steak?  She said she was already sick of chicken. 

Thanksgiving in April

The couple that I’m working with today, yesterday, and the day before, are not permanent clients of my company. The husband is the primary caregiver of the wife, and he recently had surgery. Today is his follow up appointment from that surgery, and once he gets “clearance”, he will not need us anymore. 

Yesterday I worked with them from 11-7. The husband was in his office most of the day, and I helped the wife with whatever she needed. The first four hours were boring. She didn’t need anything or want anything really. We just watched tv. Then she wanted to start dinner. When I tell you, we pretty much made an entire Thanksgiving dinner!  The only difference was that we made chicken instead of turkey. Making this meal is tiring to begin with, then add in the fact that you’re in someone else’s house, and you have to do things the way they do them. Then we ate. They let me have a plate, and I made myself eat it- the chicken was very bland. So was the stuffing. Then I had to help them pack up all the leftovers and do the dishes. Her husband is retired military and has an exact way of how everything must be placed in the dishwasher. 

At least today, I won’t have to help her cook. There are plenty of leftovers. I think she’s going to want me to take some home. If so, my cats will be happy. 

Cute Cats

 I worked with a new client today, and actually it was my second time working with them. Today while I was working with her, it started raining. Her window was open, but there was no screen. Pretty soon, about five or six cats started jumping in from outside. One after another. She had a name for all of them. Her husband then explained that they were all strays and always came in when it rained. I was like oh, ok that makes sense. They kept coming in out of nowhere! It was like a parade of cats coming through the window. 

Fun With ChatGPT

 I have been having loads of fun using ChatGPT to help me write “a book” based on me and my first boyfriend, “if we had ended up together.”  

ChatGPT is the most horrible author on the planet, but it’s great at helping me develop character arcs and plot developments on a life that never actually was. It’s so interesting to me. The ideas it comes up with and developments it suggests are practically genius, but the actual writing of the scenes is pathetic. “That’s so you!” And, “That makes it so real!”  are common sentences. 

My first boyfriend and I used to say we wanted seven kids.  That most likely realistically wouldn’t have happened, but in the book, I make it happen. Like I’ve said before, I write them as having a boy first, then a girl, then boy/girl twins, then adoption of a sibling group of three. Of their biological children, one has a limb difference and one has epilepsy. Of their adopted children, there is an infant, a preteen girl who is parentified, and a middle child who is a school mate of their biological children. 

The character based on me who’s a mother of 7 ends up with a career building marble and granite (and perhaps other) countertops for a living. And maybe other kitchen remodeling. That story arc is still building since I don’t know how to do countertops. It’s a long story. The father, of course, ends up a store manager. The story of why is a few posts down. 

ChatGPT is also helping me with my other book called The Child Advocate. I want the main character, the child advocate, to begin her advocacy working with a toddler who was born to drug addicted parents and fostered from birth by two women who’s husbands both died in freak accidents a few months apart from each other. In the story, people speculate on the sexuality of these two women more than the best interest of the child. I really did work with a situation similar to this, but I’m changing details. There was a whole lot of, “Are they gay? Or are they just two grieving widows?” (Why not both?) The baby starts walking at 2 and a half years old, because babies born exposed to methamphetamines have motor skill and developmental delays. 

There was another time when I was a CASA volunteer that I was an “assistant volunteer” on a case with a sibling group of ten. In the book, it’s a sibling group of 11, just to change things up. They are in every kind of placement you can think of- some in good foster homes, some in crappy foster homes, some in group homes, some with their biological father, some with their biological father’s family members, and some aging out. The CASA has to visit all of them and this way the reader is exposed to different types of placements that kids end up in. There’s no way for them all to be placed together. This really happened, but I have to change details for the story. 

ChatGPT is helping me with all of these story lines. It just can’t write scenes worth a damn. In one, I go see a five year old in her foster home, she shows me a painting she made and I tell her, “That’s so you!”  (Facepalm!) why does ChatGPT LOVEEE saying “That’s so you”?