Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Hard rubbish and more rubbish

Not a lot of good pickings around this year and boo-hiss to the neighbour who put out what looked like a nice glass topped patio table then loaded it with all their other rubbish. I nearly had the BOH ready to nick round the corner with the torch and drag it home when we copped a thunderstorm. Heavy rain meant the pink heart shape fluffy stool on legs would have been a soppy mess and heading for mouldville and I really wanted to give it to his girlfriend for Christmas or a farewell present.

There wasn't much on my nature strip, 3 television sets large, 1 tiny 6" black and white which broke my heart to dump because I bought it with my very own earnings, microwave which decided not to turn off except at the wall switch, 1 computer screen and a 40 year old refrigerator with the doors off as per instructions. That went in the first hour, mould and all. I am such a pack rat that the BOH practically had to wrench the 3 wheel washing trolley out of my hand but it still had 3 good wheels and I'm sure at some stage we'd have found another wheel. Besides the new one isn't as strong and I bet it won't last 25 years. He was eyeing off the garden gnomes but I promised mum I'd put them in my garden, they can go when she does.

I haven't posted much, err, not at all. Life has been slightly difficult. Visits to the home have become too much like a walk down memory lane. Four years of crazy mother multiplied by 6 new residents have had me clawing at the windows to get out. Mother, of course, doesn't remember the four years at all. So I have been mistaken for a African male nurse and a husband of one newby. Said husband is about 98, hunchbacked and 3'6". One of sister's patients came in and she said, lovely lady, go and talk to her. A bit hard since she arrived on a Friday, had a stroke at the dinner table on Saturday and the funeral has come and gone. Another newby is Lennie who is constantly on the look out for a pair of scissors or a knife to cut himself out of his wheelchair. And the resident escape artist/full moon strangler managed to find a wooden stake and a hammer that the builders had missed. There was some fancy talking to get those away from him.

I'm not ridiculing them, I'm letting you all know what you're in for. It's giving me anxiety attacks and I like to share my hysteria. My coping mechanisms of eating, gambling and spending are in freefall. I wasn't well yesterday, the sun was streaming in over the bed, I was warm and I was relaxing but I could hear my father's voice, "Your mother needs you". Crap, says I, but the voice kept on and on until I was ready to tell him to stuff his harp in his mouth. I get up, dress, get a cab and she's in bed. Bad for her, good for me because I didn't have to cope with "The Others". She'd had a crippling attack of rheumatoid arthritis in the knee and was in severe pain but glad to see me. My father's photo over the bed had a stern look. He never does this to my sister, just me. Damn deathbed promises to look after the old bat.

I think I might go down tomorrow just to see how the woman from "The body shop" copes with a demo of their products. I don't think she's done her homework about the residents unless she has a degree in Doolally.


The Elephant's Child said...

Oh dear. Ouch. The fallout from RUOK day has left me a bit doolally as well. And I find it fascinating that your father haunts you with his orders (because they are not requests) to look after your mother. It was about the last thing my father said to me.

On a much brighter note. I am jealous. We don't have those pick up days here. Though smaller portion would go round the neighbourhood and we would wind up with much more than we put out. Sigh.

And can we please, pretty please have a report on how the woman from the body shop went?

Jayne said...

My mother used to nag at me about dad, strange she's gone silent since April *rolls eyes*
Time your visits - if they're easier to avoid at mealtimes, go then, or when there's outings or tabletop dancing with optional tassles.
Or have a good belt of gin before darkening the doorstep, you can't hold back time or tide and God's Waiting Room just screws with your head.

JahTeh said...

EC, love hard rubbish time but I'm usually walking the wrong way, to the bus, when I see something good. I really could have done with that table though. The afternoon will be hilarious if they all drift off to sleep.

Jayne, when I get that voice, she's usually in trouble. It's crazy down there at the moment, newby bossybritches of 'I was a nurse in another life' fell on Saturday, broke her hip and another newby is in the lavender lounge with one foot on the stairway to Heaven.

Fen said...

ooh we're putting out stuff out, the neighbours have strewn their crap everywhere, no neat piles here! I must get onto flinging my own crap onto the pile!

River said...

It does sound as if the nursing home is more of a loony bin these days. I hope your mum's knee is better soon, pain is awful.
Can you believe I managed to move to a suburb that doesn't have hard rubbish collection every year? If you want to put stuff out you can do it anytime, but first must apply to the council and get a permission sticker which must be in plain sight somewhere on or near the goods when the truck comes for them. No sticker means a hefty fine.

Kath Lockett said...

Oh Coppy I feel for you in dealing with 'The Others' but have had a giggle or two as well.

Sometimes, don't you wonder what you'll be like when it's your turn to be there? I'm hoping I'll be in a velour tracksuit, ugg boots and with a daughter who promises to visit and make sure that I don't grow any unsightly Billy Goat Gruff chin hairs....

Anonymous said...

yes what El Chi says - we are just hanging for the Body Shop Demo Report.
My father has never ever said anything even vaguely sensible, so did you always obey yours?

X X annie

JahTeh said...

Fen, you'll probably find it's the kerb crawlers that are making the mess. We had all the cords cut off the tv's and I heard last year that they do that to strip the copper wire out.

River, no collection? It's the only entertainment that's free these days. Nothing like watching a chair 3 streets away moving from one pile to another.
Mum should be okay today with the amount of morphine she's taking on board but it's working. Stupid pill of a woman visiting her mother said I was allowing too many drugs, I could have hit her.

Kath, you struck a nerve there, first thing I always pack is my trusty pair of tweezers. One of the PCA's checks mum's chin every second day and keeps her beard free. As if we didn't have enough botheration getting old, we have to grow long hairs on our chin.

Annie O, when that little voice doesn't stop nagging, I know to move, he's usually right. Today I have to be there since there's nothing Ma likes better than to sit and spend money.