JIMINEY CRICKET

WHEN BOBBIE JO FIRST GOT SICK, I DECIDED THAT THERE WAS NO ROOM FOR PROFANITY IN MY LIFE ANYMORE. AFTER THINKING ABOUT HOW I WAS GOING TO STOP SWEARING, (YES, I WAS A REGULAR CUSS BUCKET!) I DECIDED WHEN THE URGE HIT ME, I WOULD SAY "JIMENEY CRICKET" INSTEAD OF MY USUAL LIST OF NAUGHTY WORDS. THIS HAS WORKED OUT NICELY, AND I EVEN FOUND THAT I DIDN'T NEED TO SAY JIMENY CRICKET VERY MUCH AT ALL. OKAY, JIMENY CRICKET! TODAY WAS SO FRUSTRATIING! WHEN I WENT TO THE HOSPICE THIS MORNING, THANKS TO THE RIDE GIVEN BY TANYA MCCUTCHEON (WHO BY THE WAY IS A PERFECT EXAMPLE OF SOMEONE WHO IS CARING AND LOVING) DAD MARTIN TOLD ME BOBBIE JO HAD BEEN UP ALL NIGHT CRYING AND HALLUCINATING. SHE WAS ASLEEP WHEN I GOT THERE, SO I THOUGHT MAYBE SHE WAS GOING INTO A FINAL SLEEP. I FELT FEAR AND ANXIETY, BUT ALSO A SENSE OF PERHAPS RELIEF THAT SHE WOULD NOT HAVE TO SUFFER ANY LONGER. AROUND 10:00AM I CHECKED HER AND FOUND THAT HER BED WAS TOTALLY SOAKED- AND THERE SHE WAS JUST LAYING IN THE WETNESS. I JUMPED UP AND TOLD DAD MARTIN TO HELP ME AS I HAD TO CHANGE HER. IT TOOK FOREVER, BUT WE GOT HER WASHED, DRYED, A FRESH NIGHTGOWN AND A CLEAN BED. WE TUCKED HER BACK IN, AND SHE SETTLED DOWN AGAIN, ERRATIC BREATHING AND ALL. AROUND NOON, I CHECKED HER AGAIN AND , JIMENY CRICKET, SHE WAS SOAKED AGAIN! THIS TIME THOUGH, SHE WANTED TO GET UP WHILE WE CLEANED HER AND THE BED. SHE IS SO WEAK, I WAS AFRAID THAT SHE WAS TOO WEAK, BUT DAD GOT HER TO THE BEDSIDE COMMODE WHILE WE ONCE AGAIN CLEANED HER AND CHANGED THE BED. NOW, THE NURSES WOULD BE HAPPY TO DO THIS FOR US, BUT WITH HER PERIANAL BURN, I KEEP HER CLEAN AS SOON AS SOMETHING HAPPENS, BESIDES, SHE FEELS BETTER WHEN I DO IT. WHILE SHE WAS ON THE BEDSIDE COMMODE SHE REACHED OVER TO THE OXYGEN MACHINE AND TOOK THE WATER CANNISTER OFF. THIS CANNISTER BUBBLES AIR THROUGH IT, AND I CAN ONLY ASSUME IT IS A FILTER OF SOME SORT. I TOOK THE CANNISTER AWAY FROM HER, MADE SURE IT WAS FULL OF WATER AND PLACED IT BACK ON THE MACHINE. OKAY, BACK TO BED. AFTER A WHILE, SHE STARTS GASPING FOR AIR. I CHECKED HER OXYGEN STATS, AND SHE IS DOWN IN THE LOWER 50%! "OH, NO, THIS IS IT!" I THINK. THEY TOLD ME TO WATCH FOR HER OXYGEN STATS TO FALL. I WAKE DAD MARTIN UP, (HE WAS THERE ALL NIGHT AND WAS TAKING A NAP) AND TELL HIM THAT I THINK SHE IS FAILING. ABOUT THAT TIME, BMARTIN COMES IN AND SITS NEXT TO HER. I SHOW HIM THE OXYGEN STATS, AND HE JUST SHAKES HIS HEAD, A KNOWING LOOK IN HIS EYES. AFTER ABOUT TEN MINUTES, HE LOOKS OVER AT THE OXYGEN MACHINE AND SAYS, "WHERE IS THE OXYGEN HOSE?" I ASKED WHAT HE MEANT, AND HE SAID THE HOSE FROM THE CANNISTER TO THE MACHINE WAS MISSING! SURE ENOUGH, IT HAD FALLEN UNDER THE BED WHEN BOBBIE JO TOOK THE CANNISTER OFF! WE RECONNECTED IT, AND HER OXYGEN CAME RIGHT UP-STILL LOWER THAN IT SHOULD BE, BUT MUCH BETTER. BOY THAT EVENT SCARED THE JIMENY CRICKET OUT OF ME! SHE IS VERY WEAK, AND IS HAVING A VERY HARD TIME STAYING LUCID, I DO SEE THAT SHE IS FAILING, BUT I HAVE NO IDEA WHEN MY DARLING WILL PASS. I AM LOOKING AT AN UNENDING NIGHTMARE IT SEEMS- ONE WAY OR ANOTHER. OH BY THE WAY, I HAVE CAUGHT A COLD. JIMENY CRICKET! THAT IS THE VERY LAST THING I NEED! I FEEL MISERABLE, BUT HAVE TO GO ON FOR BOBBIE JO, I CANNOT LEAVE HER NOW, WHEN SHE COULD LEAVE ME AT ANY TIME. ON THE WAY HOME TODAY, (BMARTIN TOLD ME TO GO HOME AND GET SOME REST) I DECIDED THAT SOME RED BEANS AND RICE FROM POPEYES CHICKEN SOUNDED SO GOOD. SO, I ASKED DAD MARTIN TO STOP AND GET SOME. HE SAID SURE, AND WHILE HE WAS IN THE RESTAURANT GETTING THE ORDER, MY MOUTH WAS WATERING THINKING OF THE RED BEANS, RICE AND HOT BISCUIT I WAS GOING TO HAVE. BOY THOSE BISCUITS ARE FABULOUS, ALL HOT AND BUTTERY, AND A BIT CRISPY ON THE TOP AND SIDES. DIP THEM IN THE RED BEANS AND RICE- OH HEAVENLY! WELL OUT COMES MY DUMPLING AND HANDS ME THE BAG. JIMENY CRICKET- NO BISCUIT! I SWING MY HEAD IN HIS DIRECTION, AND HE SAID, "UH, WHAT DID I DO?" DO?, DO? WHAT DID YOU DIDN'T!" "DO YOU SEE A BISCUIT IN HERE?" I ASK, HOLDING THE BAG OPEN. "A BISCUIT?" HE ASKED ME INNOCENTLY- "DID YOU ASK FOR A BISCUIT?" WELL, JIMENY CRICKET, DO I HAVE TO ASK FOR ONE? DOESN'T IT GO WITHOUT SAYING THAT YOU HAVE TO HAVE A BISCUIT WHEN YOU GO TO POPEYES? APPARANTLY NOT, AND GUESS WHAT, MARTIN CANNOT READ MY MIND! SO, NO BISCUIT, ALTHOUGH HE PROBABLY WOULD HAVE GOTTEN ONE IF I ASKED HIM TOO. SO, NOW I AM HOME, A TUMMY FULL OF RED BEANS AND RICE, (BUT NO BISCUIT) AND SNIFFLING AWAY. I SHOULD GO BACK TO THE HOSPICE TONIGHT, I AM NOT SURE IF I CAN, BUT AGAIN, I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE BOBBIE JO AT SUCH A CRITICAL TIME. MAYBE A NAP WILL MAKE UP MY MIND. MAYBE THEN, I WON'T BE IN SUCE A JIMENY CRICKET MOOD! LOVE, NANA