On Saturday, I was resting as I was recovering from my recent surgery when I heard a distinctive sound:  the rumble of a Harley’s engine.  The rumbling noise sounded close.  I got up and looked out the front window.

I saw a gorilla dismounting from a police Harley that had been parked in my driveway.

What?  Yep:  a gorilla.  Or at least it was a human in a gorilla costume.  He loped or whatever gorillas do and came to my front door.  His paws or whatever you call his hands were too large to push the ringer for the bell, but I opened the door anyway and pushed open the storm door.

He thrust a box to me, then began — I don’t know how to describe it — “aping around” on my front porch and the lawn.  He was making loud grunting noises and occasional shrieks.  I was dying with laughter, and it hurt like hell to laugh!  But laugh I did.  My partner stood behind me and laughed a lot, too.  Then the neighbors next door and across the street came out and watched the show.

I stepped outside to try to ask who it was, and he, she, or “it” came up to me, grunted and shook my hand, then ran to the bike, mounted it, and took off.

I was left standing in shock and bemusement wondering, “did this really happen?  Did a gorilla really ride a Police Harley to my door, hand me a box (containing a chocolate cake), dance around on my lawn, then take off?”

I checked with the “usual suspects” to find out if they knew anything about who was behind this.  My partner claimed innocence, and I believed him.  My siblings and some of my closest senior pals did, as well.

Then I thought about it, and decided to place a call to a cop who once rented a home from me.  About six years ago, his wife had lost her job and about the same time, had their first child.  They were really strapped for cash.  I forgave their rent for about six months until they got back on their feet.

Yeah, it was him — he “repaid” my kindness in his own way, which was very nice, a lot of fun, and quite enjoyable — though it hurt like hell!  LOL!  (Sorry, no photos. My camera wasn’t anywhere close by, and the gorilla didn’t stay long enough to pose for pictures. I hope my neighbors took some, though!)

Life is short:  paying it forward pays back.

I had surgery yesterday to repair a hernia. It went well, though Nurse Noodle couldn’t get an IV going and caused me to faint by grinding the needle inside my hand whilst looking for a vein. Fortunately, the anesthesiologist jumped in, and knew better than that nurse how to insert the needle for the IV by numbing my hand first.

Fortunately, that’s the only bad experience I had. Recovery from anesthesia was fairly quick, and five hours after arriving at the medical center, I was on my way home. I slept well last night, and even though I don’t like to use narcotics, I did. They really did help me sleep well, so I can recover better.

Today, nothing is on my plate but to rest. I have already received a number of casseroles and other goodies from my senior pals, but I told them that I didn’t really feel like having visitors today. Instead, I will watch a movie, read, sit with my partner and hold hands, and do nothing. That’s the plan!

Life is short: accept love from those who love you!

I haven’t posted about this issue much lately, but the process of caring for my 95-year-old aunt has occupied a lot of my time, more so in the past six months.  Gosh, it’s hell getting old.

Since a medical crisis in June requiring hospitalization, I got my aunt back into her own home and familiar surroundings by arranging for 24-hour care, seven days a week.  She has mid-stage Alzheimer’s Disease.  She recognizes me, but doesn’t remember names of other people who she doesn’t see as often. She recognizes her own home, but other environments (such as the hospital) were bewildering.  She didn’t know where she was, and was agitated and upset.  We truly believe that if she were not able to return to her own home, she would have become so bewildered, she would have given up and died.

One would think, then, that by arranging for full-time care in her own home, my job was done, since she is never alone any more and someone is always there to help her with bathing, dressing, and making sure she eats nutritious foods and drinks liquids to avoid dehydration.

On the contrary, my job has transitioned to activities that I probably spend 40 hours each week doing:

1. Visiting:  having conversations and keeping my aunt’s mind active.  Since she speaks several languages, I communicate with her in English, Italian, and Spanish, and rely on a caregiver who speaks French to keep that going, too.  It is so critical to help keep my aunt calm and reassured by having regular, meaningful, visits.  Talking about family, her life history, as well as current events is helpful in keeping her focused on living.
2. Grocery and supply shopping:  through the summer, I was having to make almost daily visits to stores to get things that my aunt and her caregivers consumed.  It was getting frustrating, to say the least.  However, I developed a listing of supplies and foods that she regularly requires, and ask caregivers to note items on the list as supplies run low, so I can reduce my shopping trips to twice each week.  That doesn’t always work, but it’s better than before.
3. Supervising:  caregivers are highly trained, but they’re also human.  They need direction, information, and ideas on how to interact with my aunt.  From showing them how to operate the DVD player so my aunt can watch a movie, to a myriad of other activities — I could write a book.  No wait; I have.  I wrote a “caregivers guide” that provides a thorough orientation to my aunt’s needs, medication schedule (and the effects those meds may have), and where things are located in my aunt’s small apartment.

4. Arranging things:  from doctor’s appointments and getting her there (which is no easy feat!) to calling in favors for home visits by a friend who will cut her hair and clean her apartment, to twisting arms to arrange to get her a flu shot in her home (and not have to go to a clinic), to getting a Notary Public to witness her signing financial documents, there are a lot of personalized arrangements that only a designated “primary caregiver” (that’s me) can make.  I’m happy to do it, though some of these things take a lot of time and, as I said, “twisting arms.”  Thank goodness I know a lot of people in the community so I have a number of people to reach out to for assistance.
5. Paying the bills and doing finances:  I have been given financial power-of-attorney, so I can take care of my aunt’s finances.  I keep track of all of those transactions on the computer, and provide monthly reports to her sons who live out-of-state for full transparency.  Not that they distrust me (the opposite is true), but I don’t want anyone, anywhere, to question how I’m handling her finances.

It is not easy to do all these things, but my aunt makes it a pleasure. She is pleasant, happy, and nice to be around. All of her caregivers truly enjoy the shifts that they work in providing care for her needs. It makes my life better, too, as I know that my aunt is well supervised and cared for, as long as she may live. And, my friends, that’s what it’s all about.

Life is short: show those you love that you love them.