Half Cocked TBT ...

Here we are to Friday, so I'm going to post a Throw Back Thursday (which makes no sense, but that's the way things are around here)...  by reposting an old post from three years ago entitled:

 "Half Cocked..."

Most of my wrecks have come either around cattle or on horses.  Some were bloody, some were just plain funny, and some just were.

 One normal day the Cowman and I were moving a 100 head of heifers from one pasture to another.  The pasture they were in sat in a small valley between rolling hills and high mountain ridges.  A small dry stream with many deep cut banks traversed the valley.  

The Cowman sent me to bring'm, while he was busy setting the gates.

Heifers can be tough to work, they have a tendency to be flighty, one minute huddled together and the next kicking and running in all directions.  Most days if you take your time, and keep them at an even pace, things work out.

This day wasn't going to be one of those days.  I gathered them up at the far end of the valley and started them toward the gate at the other end.  Everything was going along smoothly when over the rolling hills popped three black helicopter gunships. This happened often enough on that ranch that the Cowman and I were used to them.  In fact, I loved to watch them play hide and seek thru the draws.

  

This day they swooped down the valley fast and low, banked, made another run down the valley, then powered up to go over the high ridges and were gone. I'm pretty darn sure they were laugh'n their heads off on that last pass. Because those wringy heifers had not seen the like before and started stampeding.  There we are: the heifers, the big bay horse and I, all pretty much going full out, when out of a deep cut bank came a large herd of squealing wild pigs.

 The heifers went berserk, what with the gunships having gone over them twice, and now wild pigs shooting out of the ground.  
Of course, that big ol bay horse had to join in.  As I'm grabbing leather, for the third time, to stay on the bucking horse, I look up. There off to the side, a horseback, sets the Cowman.  His arms crossed, reins resting on the horn, and I swear to God, giving me the steely eyed look, with one eyebrow cocked and a smirky smile...




 

Buttercup days...

I am finally over my cold, but tired beyond knowing, and my get up and go seems to have left the corrals. Time to Suck it up Buttercup!

Dad was doing well at home, and then last Wed got some bug. High temp, oxygen low, white count high... so the home health nurse and I shipped him to St E's.  After spending eight hours with him in the ER, with blood draws, x-rays, IV's etc. they got him turned around, and stable enough to take to the regular floor.  He was there til Sat. when I brought him home. They never did figure out what was causing the problem.  He's on antibiotics for a few more days, and the home health nurse checked on him yesterday and was pleased with his progress. I quit giving him all the meds they sent home with him from rehab, which I think caused some of this. The home health nurse agrees with me, so now he just has antibiotic, aspirin, & oxygen. Will take him to his VA doc next week for a checkup.

He is a bit bull headed and tried to get to the bathroom by himself the other early am, and ended up on the floor. No harm done, but I could not get him back in bed by myself so had to call the fire dept.  They lifted him with ease, and we got him settled back in bed.

He is back on his computer spreading cheer and wreaking havoc with his women friends, so he's feeling a little better.

I, on the other hand, seriously need to Suck it Up Buttercup...

TBT Country...

It's Throw Back Thursday TBT

While digging through a box of old family photos, I came across this gem.  

If memory serves, this was during a period when mom had decided to try her hand at sewing. Gingham was obviously Big that year.  Don't remember that she did much sewing after this project. She did make sure I knew how to sew, by sending me to a terrific sewing leader in 4-H, so that I could make my own clothes.  I have been sewing ever since, but I never ever made matching outfits...

 That's me, sport'n the buck teeth and the high water bangs...

 

Happy Valentine's Day...

Dad & Willie 02.14.2017

Happy Valentine's Day from Dad, Willie, and I.  

Dad is spending it with his favorite daughter, and his girlfriend!

Dad is doing better little by little, Monday was a very full day for us: oxy man, two nurses, social worker, friends, home help, friends, etc. He did eat better, and managed to walk much longer with his walker. 

Will keep you posted, have a good day, Brig 

Dad's Home...

He's home, the sun is shining, and he says he is very happy to be Home.  Willie was thrilled to see him, and required being in his lap for extended periods.  Dad's fine with that, and sneaking treats to him.

 The following are just random notes.  I'm posting it as more of a journal for me than anything. Please don't feel you are required to read on, though you are welcome to comment.

The new hip is working nicely, scar has healed well, and he has no pain from it.

He managed to get some orange chicken with rice and a small amount of a protein shake down after he got home. I fixed him corned beef hash with an egg last night, it was his request. It was good, but he struggled to swallow even a few bites. I've talked with his oncologist and the ENT surgeon, and this difficulty swallowing some things is part of what is at this stage. His coughing to clear his throat is about the same. It is frustrating to him that he can't eat many of his favorites without his choking. And we face the aspirating problem.

He is very weak and only manages very short distances with his walker. Then he sets in it and I push him where he wants to go. We have a wheel chair (left over from Mom) and a hoveround that he used to get back and forth to the mailbox(we live on a hill).  I'm not sure about him getting too dependent on mech things to do things for him, need to talk to PT & his doc about that, hopefully Monday. 

This morning he was up for a while, got him changed, his three E's in, meds and eye drops in, and gave his legs a massage, and got part of a banana protein shake down him. He wanted his favorite CD of Roy Orbison on the whole house stereo system, so we were rock'n the house, and he spent some time in his den on his computer. He's back in bed now, and comfortable.

I have a dear friend that has been occasionally going to see him with me. She talks to him like this is just a minor bump in the road. I know that she means well, but it isn't the reality, and he & I know it. 

He and I both know why he has been so adamant about getting home.

Monday, his home health caregiver will be here, as well as PT and a few others, that he enjoys interacting with. Hopefully they will cheer him up. 

 Lots of orders for his care came home with him.  He is on nocturnal oxygen, so they showed up not long after he got home and explained the equipment to me. I rearranged some things in his bedroom and that's all in place.  He is to use it when he naps, as well. That gets a little problematic as he is prone to just dozing off in his chair.  Last night was a process to get him ready for bed. Remove the 3 E's:  ears (hearing aides), eyes (glasses), eats (false teeth), put in his eye drops, turn on the big oxy machine, adjust it, put the nasal cannula on him, and the finger oxy tester thingy...  but we gott'er done and him tucked in for the night. Oh, and put the other things that he thought he might need on his night stand, including the big Donger (cowbell/handle)!

 (I told him he better damn well be dying if he rings that thing in the middle of the night. He laughed, and said "Aah I Love You, Sissy, Thank You for taking care of me."   "I Love You Dad, and you are most welcome.")

 

The Dad Report...

Sometimes you just have to push through, and keep plugging along.

Dad has had me fairly busy taking his favorite foods, the mail, newspapers, etc, up to him, daily. He won't eat the food at rehab, says it doesn't taste good to him.  I have been concerned about his not eating, or eating very little, as he has dropped 6 lbs (he didn't have to spare) since he got there.  The staff are very good about answering my constant questions on his care and status.
 

He has had loads of cards, balloons, phone calls, and visitors.  Still he is depressed, he just wants to be home, were he totally runs the show.  But he has needed to be strong enough to come home, a vicious circle. I've met with his social services lady several times, and finally the other day told her, "He's 93, he's lived a good long life, now do what ever arrangements it takes so I can take him home, soon".  He can do PT at home, he can have home help, I can make sure he eats, and he has Willie and friends to help keep his spirits up.
  

He had an interesting table mate in the dining room. Old P38 driver from a ranching family in Arizona, that went on to keep flying and ranching in N Calif. I have adopted him, he's 94. He has great stories of ranches, and cowmen we both knew. And his flying stories are just short of unbelievable. I have given him our info and told him when he's ready for a breakout I'll come get him.

They are releasing Dad to me to bring him home tomorrow, Sat. He has really missed his home routine.

Things never go quite the way we sometimes think they should... and to stick another spoke in the mix I have come down with a whooper of a cold.  I'll get over it, but Dad can't afford to get it.  Will do my best to see that that doesn't happen, but dammit! Then I hear from the staff that Dad says he wants to go home because my cooking is the best, and that I will take good care of him.  Bless his heart that's more than a bit of a stretch on the cooking...