Sunday, September 05, 2004

22 BIAW, bronchitis, applebees,

09-05-04 Mayatime: 4 Chuen 14 Mol

No, I haven’t written for a while. My p/t job went from 6 to 18 hours last week, plus last week was the “official” Book in a Week of my BIAW yahoo group (I managed 52 pages in six days, my goal was 50). And I’m sick. Will thinks I have bronchitis or walking pneumonia. I have a terrible hacking wet cough and periodically my lungs try to escape from my body via this cough. I have a sore throat and no voice from coughing so violently. Because tomorrow is Labor Day I can’t even call the doctor until Tuesday. The coughing is so exhausting I can’t do anything else. I can take cough medicine, which merely dials the coughing down a notch, or Nyquil which knocks me out (but as soon as I wake up, the cough is back). It’s the totally annoying kind of gasping, retching cough that makes other people wince; the kind that when you hear it you wish the person had stayed home. Yup, that’s me for the last week or so.

Not much to report with my dad anyway. The last two Sundays at my grandmother’s he was rather quiet. He doesn’t seem to pay much attention to what’s going on; it’s like he’s fading away. If I want to talk to him, I have to say “Dad!” several times and immediately he’ll pay attention and be all eager to speak with me. But he doesn’t initiate conversation much. And when he does say something, chances are it relates to what we were all talking about a few minutes ago. But he remembers certain things that he wants to remember; for instance every week he gives me the Sunday funnies because Bloom County is back and I like Opus. And he’s only been giving me those funnies for a month or so.

My mom said he gets really frustrated and angry when he can’t make her understand what he wants/means. So far I haven’t had this problem with him, but I spend way less time with him than she does. He’s trying to be his usual nice self when I see him, thanking everyone for everything.

My parents' 37th wedding anniversary was just over a week ago. Two years ago I got them the fatherbiter cat. I called to see what they were doing & they were going to Applebee's and so we said we'd take them. It was the same thing as for his birthday, except we sat in a different table. "What do I like? I want this shrimp, do I like that?" "No, you don't. Get the chicken and broccoli." And he gets the chicken and broccoli and spends half an hour cutting off the "fat"--the places where the grill seared the meat. I did not say anything this time. He eats very slowly, even slower than he used to. His eating is really a kind of obsessive-compulsive thing. He has to cut everything up really small, cut it and cut it and cut it into tiny pieces, and keep dissecting it looking for invisible fat. I feel bad that we have to order for him, but he asks so many weird questions and then doesn't understand the answers, it's easier for my mom to just do it. For instance he only likes Classic Coke, not diet Coke, not Pepsi. So when he orders his drink, he'll say "I want classic coke" and they'll say "Is Pepsi okay?" and he'll repeat that he wants classic coke. Sometimes the place will also have orange soda or ginger ale, which he likes, and he'll get that instead. But if he gets the cola, when it comes he says "this isn't diet, it is?" And we explain that the diets have lemon slices in them. His has no lemon. But he'll drink it and not like it cuz it's Pepsi (which I vastly prefer) and not Classic Coke.

No comments: