I Cleaned Out the Car
Fri., August 31, 04:13 PM
I wish I could download the “Rhymes With Orange” cartoons. This one is just about the meaning of words, but it points at Husband … again. The same electrical tech, who used to lecture hospital nurses about winter versus summer thermostats, no longer remembers how they work. I came into his room to see the a.c. set at 69, “because it was going on all the time.” He now feels cold at what used to be comfortable temperatures. So I explained it to him again and reset it at 80, but it's just one more thing I have to watch.
Another thing I have to watch is whether his air conditioner is on at all. The big compressor that extracts oxygen from the air — which is probably a better option than full-time oxygen containers — uses a lot of power. Husband's great big air conditioner — too big for that room, as I'm sure I've mentioned — also uses a lot of power. What this means, aside from a very large electric bill, is that I can't run the a.c. in my room at the same time as his. So I watch very carefully and only cool my room when he is, for example, sitting in the kitchen. If only he would pay me the same consideration. Once again I heard a shout: “the lights are out.” And the former expert just sits there while I run downstairs and reset the breaker. Huh? I am always thankful that I learned about circuits and fuses when I was a little girl, but, y'know, I'm also a little resentful that I've gained another job that used to be his.
Enough of the whining. I am really trying to do other things in between the caregiving for the guy who “can take care of myself.” Today, for example, I even went out on the bike for a while.
It was not easy, of course. I had given Husband his morning meds and his breakfast and left him reading the newspaper. But when I opened the garage, there was a strange car in the driveway. It turned out to be the representative from the oxygen company, and I really had to talk with him because I was not here (the eye surgery) the day everything was delivered.
So I got my lessons in maintenance and ordering, and went over Husband's meds, and he had a mini exam that showed he seems to be holding his own. Husband signed the paper, but after the fellow left, Husband asked me how much he had signed for. I'm not too sure we should let him sign anything, but he's still legal.
And once again I started to go out — interrupted only a couple of times by phone calls. It has been some time since I was on the bike; I didn't go at all while Husband was in the hospital, and my surgery was right after that. I rode for maybe half an hour, just in the safe little streets of our neighborhood. Since my sunglasses are not reading glasses, I couldn't read the speedometer/odometer. It wasn't until U.D. got home that I found out I had done 0.8 miles, which explains why my legs feel as if they're falling off. I would like to rebuild the strength I lost.
But I did clean out the car, because, yeah, I did sell it. It's good that I got some money for it, but that was not my ultimate goal. I am not sure I will ever drive again, because even when both eyes are fixed, I suspect I will not have good reflexes for driving. Meanwhile, here was this machine sitting in my garage, for which I was paying registration, taxes and insurance. I hate the high cost of gasoline, but I will gladly pay for part of U.D.'s gas, since she drives me where I have to go.
Fifteen years is a lot of time to accumulate stuff in a car. I used to put the deposit soda bottles in the car because sooner or later they had to go back to the store. I often left nonperishables in the trunk until I needed them because there is a shortage of storage space in the Cheesebox. And there were various comfort things — extra sweaters, tissue boxes, peanut butter crackers, water bottles, classical music tapes…. Finally, there was the afghan.
In the early years of our marriage, before I went back to work, I did a lot of knitting and crocheting while I watched television with Husband. My usual projects were children's sweaters, for which I developed some unusual methods, and blankets. I might buy a kit for a new design, but I could use the directions over and over with my own choice of colors. The design I liked best was the popular zigzag, which is lovely and warm in worsted but makes a cute baby blanket if done with fine pink and blue yarn. But one day, for some reason, the kids asked me how to make a granny blanket.
So I picked up some leftover yard and started a granny square: two rounds of dark blue, two rounds of lighter blue, and two rounds of white, with a row of single crochet to stabilize it. I'm pretty sure the kids lost interest before I finished that square, but by that time I was hooked. ('Scuse me.)
I had enough leftover yarn to make twenty squares. Then, of course, I had to buy some navy yarn to put them together. It actually made a respectable blanket, and I kept it in the car. (When I draped it over the steering wheel, I could identify my own car in a large parking lot.)
I ran it through the washer — no problems there — and I have another comfort blanket, along with my quilt (handmade by a friend when I had cancer). If I ever get to move (that'll be another post), they may be the only blankets I take with me!
