Life has felt a bit out of control lately.
G has not been feeling well, so has not been willing to do the things
that will help him get better or keep him from getting worse.
(Just a little bit of brain exercise, a little physical exercise.
Our Quincy has not been feeling well, either,
which means coaxing him to eat,
giving him extra medicine,
helping him get down the stairs to the back yard.
(Come on, Poochy-Boy, eat some of this - so delicious!)
My friend Pat is home from the hospital, and is doing OK,
to everyone's surprise and delight.
(And thank you all for your prayers.)
Her time is very limited, but she is still with us.
I organized our caregiver group to meet at her home
instead of our usual place last night,
but we got snowed out and had to reschedule.
Finding a new time and getting people to respond
with their schedules was,
as one said, like herding cats.
Many emails and phone calls later,
we have set Wednesday night to go see her.
I realized as I was shoveling snow (yet again) today,
that there was no small measure of comfort in it,
as it gave me the illusion of control.
Here is the snow, I have a snow shovel,
and I have the time and energy
to clear the driveway and sidewalks.
There was a predictable outcome.