It’s 5pm and I am only now just starting my day. Working night shift …..hold on, I have to fix my dog’s beloved treat windmill………….Sorry. LMAO.
Working night shift is rough but I’m not sure I could go back to days. Or even 8 hour days. How do you guys do that? ughhhh.
Some of my coworkers bought me the most beautiful birthday cake. Annnnnnd I’m eating it for breakfast.
I should be doing school work, butttttttt I’m not. LOL.
Catriona
XOXOXOX
(I just found this in my drafts from October 23, 2023. Apparently I come here often and start but don’t finish entries alot. It’s unfinished. I’m leaving it that way.)
Between my kid suffering a pretty epic lesion to the foot, trying to patch it up themselves, and subsequently bleeding on every floor, wall, and door frame I own, my better half who is almost always injurying themselves in some bizarre and bloody way, annnnnnd my dog attempting to bleed out yesterday; I’m positive my house would look like some spectacular sacrifice(s) went down if inspected under a UV.
On the note of my dog attempting to die prematurely – I couldn’t get the bleeding to stop so while I held pressure on it I ordered styptic powder delivered to my house. The Door Dasher rang the door bell while simultaneously turning around with my package to run back to their car. Was her senior dog trying to die too? I caught her around the corner… I didn’t have time to question WTF – I just ran back to my dog. But, like, wtf Door Dasher? You had to shop it, you know it was cheap, why try to steal it? So weird. I’d have shared, just ask next time.
(Trigger Warning. All the death. Seriously, just don’t even bother with this one. I wrote it as soon as I got home the day my mother died because I had to get it out. I’ve left some pretty terrible parts out. Things I don’t ever want those who loved her to ever read should they stumble upon this. No one needs to carry that, but me.)
So my mom is gone.
On my way to see her Tues night, I received a call from the night RN. She wanted to know if I had stopped in yet to see my mom, and if I had seen the condition she was in. The RN was ripping mad because my mom was not able to follow commands and had apparently been that way for some time. Day shift didn’t include that when they gave report, nor did they notify me.
When I arrived she was laying sideways across the bed. She would pay attention when she heard my voice but was not able to follow commands or answer. I immediately called hospice. I sat with my hand on her head for a long time. If I asked her a question she would grunt an answer or acknowledge me. She just kind of stared off into space.
I called my brother while at her bedside. He immediately asked if she had died. I told him no. But she was close. I explained the situation all with my hand on her head.
I made arrangements for her to go to Hospice House and started to pack her belongings. I dropped a large box of Christmas decorations on the floor. It made a really loud noise. My mom suddenly looked over and said “What was that?” and then she was awake. She was confused but cognitive.
I packed her stuff up around her, and as I did the more awake and clear she became. Transport put her on the ambulance to transport her to Hospice while I told her I was right behind her, I would meet her there. She said the most confident “I know” I’d ever heard. I called my brother again to tell him she was back, but that it could be just a surge.
When I got to the new facility, she was wide awake and upset. They had cleaned her and removed her socks. She was in pain.
At one point they had to lay her on her back to clean her. She couldn’t breathe in that position and was panicking. She was yelling and fight the RNs. I just remember her staring at me and saying “Catriona, help me”. I don’t think I will ever forget that.
She slept most of the night which was weird for her. We both got up around 6:30am. She was in excruciating pain. We waited a long while for pain meds. Around 10:30 she had finally had her pain meds and was settled enough I felt comfortable running home to change and grab the pillow she wanted. I leaned over her bed and told her I was going to change and that I’d be back really soon. She asked me where I was going and I told her. As I was walking out of the door she said “I’m sorry you are chained to this place”. I responded “Wherever you are, is where I want to be”, and I left. That was the last real conversation we had.
I wasn’t gone long. I went home and changed. I stopped and grabbed her a new pillow and some flamless candles. A few months ago when she was first admitted to the nursing home, I had brought her some candle holders to hang on the wall and added flameless candles that I would change out with the season. She absolutely loved them. I left the ones on the wall when I moved her to the Hospice House so I wanted to get a pair for her new room. As I approached the front door to go back to my mom the RN called me. “There have been some changes with your mom”. Within 30 seconds I was in front of her. Her breathing had changed. She was reverting back to how I had found her the night before.
I sat at her feet, on the bed, for hours. She would open her eyes or mumble and I’d tell her I was there and that she was safe. That I had everything taken care of. She was back to opening her eyes and briefly looking at me when I spoke to her, but she couldn’t respond for the most part. By 6:30pm my brother called. I put him on speaker for him to tell her he loved her. She opened her eyes real wide and tried to speak. After I hung up with him I told her all the things I wanted her to know, and some of the things I knew my brother wanted her to know.
By 7:30pm she started to go. I was quiet other than responding if she moved or grunted because when she heard my voice or if I said “Mom” it was as if I was calling her back and she would stir more like she was fighting it all. And 9:30 she was no longer responding to me. I just continued to hold her hand. By 11:30PM I just got this feeling, so I started talking to her. I told her some of my brother’s most loved memories. I reminded her of all the funny things we did, and the funny things she said to me. I spoke of the things we did as kids. The time she dyed my hair, my ears and the entire back of my neck black. The time we brought her so many wildflowers I couldnt see where I was walking. And then, an hour later, she was gone.
…….I watch a lot of tiktok. …….eeekkkk I know. I know. LOL
But I do. I’m a people watcher, we know this. Tiktok is useful to a point for people watching. And ART. oh the Art. These are two of my favorite things: Art and people watching. I mean really people are Art. Really fucked up Art for the most part. But. Art.
Really what interests me are people’s stories, so when I can’t sleep or when my PTSD rears it’s really fucked up head I run away to other people’s thoughts. Also – Did you know Lindsey Stirling does lives and plays on request on Tiktok? She’s playing live right now and I cannot get enough.
On tiktok there are so many people finding out through 23andme that the parents they grew up with aren’t their biological parents. Some of these stories are heartbreaking. Most of these stories are heartbreaking. You know, stories of people finding out they were switched at birth, finding out their dad wasn’t their dad or their mom wasn’t their mom, and how horribly awful it made everyone involved feel. Annnnnnnd all I can think is: Damnit, I took that damn test so that it would show me that I was switched at birth and my birth parents weren’t my birth parents, why couldn’t this happen to me. lol. I know that’s nuts, but my parents spent the time they had with me showing me, for the most part, that they didn’t want me. I am pretty sure I was the black sheep as a baby. lol.
23andme didn’t show I had been switched at birth, by the way. lol. I mean, really, it didn’t show me anything. Apparently both sides of my biological family don’t use 23andme Hahaha.
I think even if my biological parents turned out to be cereal killers I would have been ok with that. My mom wanted a baby, I was just the wrong baby. My dad wanted a son, but never the responsibility. Turns out I’m not a boy. Maybe this is where I grew the black wool?
I guess I need to do laundry and clean up the bubble mess I definitely didn’t make in the kitchen by using the wrong automatic dishwasher detergent. bahahah
xoxoxo
Catriona
Uh. I don’t know how I did it. I’ve literally done this process a million times.
But, I did indeed glue myself to the cat.
sigh. How is everyone else’s Saturday? LOLOL
Catriona
XOXOXO
Apparently, I wrote this last August. I never finished it, but WordPress kept it safe for me. Lol! It’s not finished. But, you’re getting it anyway.
The last few days have been filled with memories that hit me like flash floods.
We found a little deli weeks ago, but just couldn’t seem to catch it while it was open. A rather common occurrence when you live in the middle of Cow Town.
Yesterday, we came back from a day trip to find the little Deli open. I ordered a veggie sub (I’m from New England; large sandwiches will always be “Subs”). I bit into it and the taste transported me back to my beautiful mountains. The smell of my favorite trees. It brought me back to a time when things were just as complicated, but some how it seemed a bit simpler. The sound of crunchy, bright colored leaves returned to my ears. I was a kid again, surrounded by all my favorite things. It was completely nuts. I’ve lived away from New England for the better part of a Decade and never once found anything close to our subs. Not that I was looking. Apparently, I should have been.
Today, I was sitting in a little restaurant having breakfast when I bit into home fries that reminded me of breakfast with my Wife. Every Wednesday we would drop our son off at school and go eat at this little cozy restaurant right down the street. It was always the same breakfast, and the same waitress. I eventually tired of the breakfast, and the coffee I swear declined the longer we went but I never tired of the fact that my wife WANTED to go. Wanted to be there, and wanted to be out of the house… at a time nothing else would move her from bed.
Hi. OH. Are you wondering what I meant by my title? Yeah, me too. LOL. My brain has the tenancy to just populate random sentences. Half the time it even surprises me.
life is funny, you know? In the blink of an eye everything changes. I swear I blinked and my smiley, giggly toddler grew up to be a smiley teenager. TEENAGER. I own one of those? CRAP. I own one of those. I should be terrified. I should be, but I’m not. Denial? Maybe. Maybe I have faith that him and I can work through anything. Yeah. That is what it is.
I’ve been walking a lot. I know, you are all Surprised.
Walking around here is always fascinating. You go from Cow Town, knee deep in grass, horses giving you the hairy eye-ball..from all directions..to suddenly… a huge town as far as the eye can see. I love how quite it is here.
Night time is one of my favorite times to walk.
There is only one street light for a while.
The sky is my favorite possession. Even when it’s grey, or completely dark, it’s beauty shines through.
HOLY CRAP – My Facebook just alerted me to THIS:
If that is not just as terrifying as thereal Trump…….
OK internet. I am DONE for the day. Damn.
Take care guys!
Catriona
XOXOXOX
So, I’m in the car, right, and I’m talking and blah blah blah, and alllll of a sudden I have the urge to look down. So, I do (duh). What do I see? A weird ass grease spot looking at me.
The HellllllLLLL is THAT? I wasn’t eating, we had been in the car for about an hour. No drinks, nothing leaked. Nothing. Where the hell this thing came from, I have no idea.
So I named it “Amy”.
Amy didn’t appreciate how long we were in the car. She didn’t like the lack of coffee that was going on. She had a real issue with little guys in big trucks with ball sacks hanging off the back. She had a lotttttt to say about those… She was super mouthy. Like, for real. She was a real thorn in the driver’s side. She had this accent that no one could figure out, and she swore like a trucker.
It got to the point that I had to ask her to leave. She refused. I threatened. I tried to physically remove Amy, but my attempts were thwarted.
Finally, I stuck an oversided Bambi sticker over her face (regrettablely, I didn’t get a photo) and we went about our day. Worked like a charm! Remind me to get more of those.
I’d forgotten all about her until later when I went to do the laundry. There she was, glaring at me, the Bitch. So I shoved her ass into the washer (not before assaulting her with some heavy duty Amy Remover), annnnd I haven’t heard from her since. Now granted, I’ve been too lazy to go back into the laundry room… Bitch better be gone by the time I walk back in there!
In an unrelated note: guacamole chips (auto correct wanted me to say “Guacamole Cops“, the helllll is THAT?), are addicting and I’m currently looking for a support group. Anyone have any suggestions?
Catriona
XOXOXOXO
My better half had this weird thing with winning me cows from various fairs, machines, and weird game stands. I don’t even know how it started. Lol. We had two particular stuffed cows that were my favorite Henfers. (Better Half named all cows “Hefner”, it was hilarious). One was obnoxiously large and round. The other was so tiny, you couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. Both Hefners lived on our bed for years.
Unfortunately, I only have one Hefner left. The small one. It’s now locked in a box I had made for my son….I will go into that another time…
Every cow I received had this goofy friggen look on its face. The kind you could be Earth-Shatteringly-Angry, and still couldn’t keep a straight face if you saw one of these things. So, as you can imagine I can’t see a cow, even a real cow, without laughing like an idiot. Every. Damn. Time. It’s made worse if the cow desides to throw a “Moo” at me. I can’t see a cow, or hear a cow, without smiling like an idiot.
Annnnnddddd then there’s the part where I live close to cows pastures. I can’t really go anywhere without seeing a cow. It’s a bit obnoxious, really. Even my son has started to notice. We’ve been taking long walks lately, and just sort of exploring. Recently he looked up and said “MOM! Hefner got huge!”. I laughed, the cows started Mooing, we laughed more… I had to eventually pull us away. Which really proved hard, as their were cow fields on both sides of us for a good twenty minutes. Anyone passing us by would have thought we were nuts.
It’s been over a year since she died. Yeah guys; I said she.
The thing about me coming back to writing is that while I was away… We will say “someone”… decided that stalking me on the internet, cloning my media sites, posting fake nudes… Yeah, you read that right…. Throwing all of my private information (including the town I live in, my son’s name and nick names, my business information, including this blog) out in the open while at the same time harassing anyone and everyone they could. The idea was to ruin my reputation. The idea was to pop the safe little bubble I had created to protect my son and myself from the internet… Because parenting, and privacy… However it didn’t work. Those who knew me laughed and kept on truckin’. Those who didn’t know me, sort of shook their heads in disgust, but came back to me with questions.. Concerns.. Because what was posted and said was so bizarre. In the end none of it matters other than I no longer have the privacy I once had, and really at this point: fuck it. LMAO
You see, if you have been following me regularly I generally use gender neutral pronouns for my better half. Was I ashamed, you ask? Hell no! I didn’t want readers to get stuck on WORDS. I didn’t want it to be even more obvious of who I was. Lol. I skimmed over things that would easily identify me. But, “someone” has made it so that it is easily tracible to who I am. So, from now on, it’s going to be all out in the open… Watch out internet, BECAUSE NOW I REALLY HAVE NO FILTER! LMAO.
So, join me on this new journey of letting it all hang out… And finally knitting some penis socks.
Catriona
XOXOXOXOX