PERFECT HEALTH

Peg had her follow-up visit with her cardiologist last week. She is apparently "absolutely amazing" and "in great shape", which is possibly why she  is back to moving furniture around in the middle of the night. Dominick, who was on Peg Overnight Duty, heard a terrible crash about 3am so raced down and there's Peg surrounded by furniture chaos (she puts those slider things under the legs so she can push things around by herself) and in the middle of it all, the big fake mahoghany folding screen that separated Peg's Area from Odd's (now Terri's), on it's side with half the louvres broken or hanging out at weird angles. Then yesterday she's hauling everything out to the porch, then hauling everything from the porch into the kitchen, rearranging the front hall, moving the desk from her room to the hall, moving it back again, moving the keyboard to where the bookcase was, moving the bookcase to.... It's a good thing she wasn't married to a blind person. ("Oops, sorry dear, yes, you're right, there WAS a chair there yesterday!")

And it's not like she has nothing left to do in life (HINT: cupboards cupboards boxes boxes drawers drawers closets attic attic attic).

Yesterday's health report from Bonnie, which is good of her to do but I wish she'd stop sending all the time because it all goes in one ear and out the other, in fact it doesn't even go in:

 "Vital signs this morning were: Weight:  119.5, BP 139/66; Heart Rate: 69 and Oxygen 96. Her Blood Sugar today was 85." 

But what I need is for her to add things like "Not bad!" or "Pretty good, eh?" or "We're very worried!" though because I have no idea whether these numbers are good or bad. I tried to learn it all when Odd was waning and indeed again when Porchlight the VNA brought over their magic electronic telehealth machine in February and I was shown in great detail how to take all these vital signs and what meant what--but, can't remember. Possibly because what can I do from here? Nothing. So let them deal with it. Them who, unlike me,  is getting paid to do these things. Including swab up the contents of her catheter bag which Peg dropped in the front entry way yesterday, because, according to Bonnie, she won't let anyone empty it for her.

FINANCIAL NEWS: none. But I am almost 99% convinced now that the only sensible thing to do is put the house on the market and move my mother to a rental apartment, and keep her happy by tossing in a few pieces of furniture every day for her to shove around.