It was foggy here this morning, or maybe just misty. Cooler, too and I woke up early and couldn't get back to sleep and so I got up and I still didn't get out early enough and I just couldn't do it today. I made it twenty minutes out and when I heard myself moaning, I turned around and came on home.
Hips, thighs, feet. Everything hurts.
I have to go buy new shoes. I probably buy a pair of walking shoes every eighteen months or so which is probably not enough. I wish I had the balls to just try walking barefoot. I think my body would like that but I'm not sure the soles of my feet would. Anyway, the shoes I'm wearing currently have started to deconstruct on the inside and they're rubbing a blister on my foot.
So. Gotta do that.
I got another message from The Home yesterday. Mother had gone down to see the doctor there again for her dizziness and he came up with the brilliant idea for her to go see an ear, nose, throat doctor.
Yeah. That's a good idea.
Too bad we never thought of THAT before.
Yes, I'm being sarcastic. My poor mother has been suffering from vertigo and headaches for going on six or seven years now and she's been to ENT's, a neurologist, the balance clinic, you name it. She's been scanned and X-Rayed and tested and treated. All to no avail.
And of course, the doctor at The Home hasn't gone through her old records. They're too daunting. Her file must be a foot thick.
But I KNOW I've told him all of this. I almost always go to her appointments with her. I've told him, I've told the nurses, I've told the CNA's on her floor that yes, she has vertigo, yes, she has been tested in many different ways and no, no one has found any reason for it and thus, has offered no real help.
Of course Mother doesn't remember all of this testing. She only knows she's dizzy all the time.
"I'm dizzy as a drunk," she always says. Then she invariably adds, "Not that I've ever been drunk."
I wonder if my mother has ever been drunk. Probably not but I do remember that week we spent in Key West one time with her where she certainly enjoyed her pina colada every evening. Sometimes I think that if my mother HAD enjoyed a few more drinks now and then we might have gotten along better.
Well, moot point by now.
Nothing to do for it but walk as far as we can, turn around, come home, take some Ibuprofen, take a shower, get dressed, go buy new shoes that don't torture our feet, put 'em on the next day, take another walk, hopefully it'll be better.
It generally does and the fog always clears, which it has here in Lloyd and since it rained last night, it's beautiful out and green and my chickens are walking about, molting, dropping feathers wherever they go and my yard looks like either a slaughter-house floor or a dance floor for angels. You pick.