A lot has changed

Since my last post. My dad, bless him, died on November 21 and I am now learning to live alone, without anyone to care for except myself.
More later, I've just not been inclined to talk.
lin

oh, and Christine

I think the point may be moot re hospice although if he gets out of the hospital his present condition probably will qualify him.
but thank you--you are a good friend
lin

Bad News good News

Bad news--dad is in the hospital and doing very poorly. Didn't think he'd make the night but he was still stubbornly holding on. also peter the cat is very upset and somehow has fleas and i did manage to get some flea stuff but i think he's reacting badly to it and to the upset--after all it ts traumatic if 6 burly guys with loud radios show up in your house to take your grampy away and then your aunty lin is gone most of the time. i'd be po'd too and crying all the time. I feel so bad because I want to be with him but I need to be with dad. 16 years of life with grampy is hard to give up isn't it. I WAS hoping to take him to the vet tomorrow but don't think that's going to happen. Peter will have to put up with this and i hope he forgives me someday.

The good news which sort of makes me happy is that the red sox won the series. And the patriots demolished the redskins (sounds like a replay of the French and Indian war doesn't it?). I was in the hospital with dad when the sox won--was watching the game at midnight or whenever it happened and yes the nurses allowed the patients to stay up if they so felt the need. Nice nurses. Can't say enough about Memorial Hospital's Hodgson 5 staff. Amazing amazing people. Love them. They're putting up with me and my "I don't want to be a bother but if you don't get dad a bedpan you'll have a BIG MESS to clean up" routine.

ANyway, for the one or two out there who actually read this thing, I will keep you posted once I actually know something more. The prognosis is pathetically bad--I actually thought I would be an orphan today but somehow that didn't happen--I love my dad, want him to be around til his hundredth birthday but don't think that's going to happen. I miss him already because he's kind of been gone to me for a little bit. He has acute liver failure by the way from his hard drinking years ago (damn those 16oz knickerbocker beers) aggravated by his sneaking wine during the day in recent years when he thought I wasn't looking. But I'm on to you now, dad, only it's a little too late for me to do much about it. Ah hell, guess it's time to wrap this thing up.

Sadly,
lin

Ending a life

My dad in September 2006 with our cat Peter.

I've been trying to decide if I'd rather be blind or deaf and find it's a toss up. I would really mourn the total loss of my hearing (since I am hearing impaired anyway) since I live for music, but blindness would be VERY difficult to bear. So I can understand why my dad feels as he does, losing his eyesight to MacD and glaucoma, and feeling so tired and weak all the time from just general ill health.

I was thinking a lot this morning about how it is that we can have such a hard time relating to someone wanting to die and doing everything possible to keep them from wanting to die. Perhaps because we're afraid that if we say it's OK to want to die people will take it into their own hands and kill themselves? OR that it's challenging something within ourselves? I probably need to read more about death and dying to understand this--at least in the context of geriatrics. But then I'm not sure I could handle what I read at this point.I can understand a friend's FIL's POV too--do not go gentle into that good night, "I am controlling this, it is not controlling me." He is dying from cancer and resisting going into hospice.

The context of this is that my dad, I think, is on his way out. Or least he'd like to be. It's hard for me to reconcile this shell of a man with the strong vigorous guy I know and love, who protected me, and who I still expect to protect me. I am always going to be his baby though I am now 47 to his 81. I miss the "old" Dad, the guy who was with my brother Ricky and me on a trip to New York (photo at left). This was in 1969.

I know I can't go back to those days but boy, do I miss them.

lin

Electric!

Ok, so what does one do on a Saturday when the circuit board breaks (I think it was a short circuit) and the electrician can't come until Sunday? Well, in my case it was a long silent scream as my dad, god bless him, blew a gasket. Poor guy is going blind you see and depends on lights, depends on TV, depends on lots of things to keep him amused. Radio I can supply in spades since we have tons of batteries. And no, dad, gorilla tape on the breakers is not going to help. No, dad--DON"T DO THAT! Please sit down in your chair. NOW!

Never realized how much I depended on the microwave.
never realized how much I depended on the internet til I couldn't connect. Why? because the MODEM requires ELECTRICITY.
So why did the circuit actually fuse? Because my dad perpetually uses a small electric heater and that, I guess, was too much for the wiring in this old house (built in 1877) to take. the wiring's been long replaced but I guess there are things it just doesn't like. Did I say I depend on the microwave? Seriously, the power is back on--since about an hour ago. I am now able to check email (not too bad), and if I feel like it can edit some photos but I don't feel like it. Dad, the ungrateful old guy lol, is asleep in his chair because he is COLD? and why is he cold because he can't use the heater (I lied and told him that the electrician told him NOT TO USE THE HEATER). I don't like it when he does use the heater anyway because he doesn't turn it off right anyway.

but now at least I can work on my stuff without worrying. and can watch the patriots at 4:15. I am sorry because the red sox lost to the indians last night (not Maude--she's in heaven!) but there's always the next game.

Ahh, electricity! I never would have made it in the old days

Dispatches from boring jobs

I found this on my computer today--it was written for a swap for swap-bot called dispatches from boring jobs. IT's too bad the photos didn't transfer over but maybe you'll get the idea of my life

June 4, 2007

Dear Alissa:

Please forgive the typed letter. I have arthritis so my handwriting has really deteriorated over the years and it is much easier to type than write.

ANYWAY, I’m writing you a letter for the Dispatches from Boring Jobs swap on swap bot. I guess I should introduce myself a bit first. My name is Lin (short for Linda) and I am 46, going on 47. I share an apartment with an elderly father and an elderly cat. I have a 27 year old daughter, Melissa. In real life (outside my job) I am a writer and sort-of artist. I love doing collage work, art journals, artist trading cards, altered art. I have not written for publication very much in recent years as my current job involves quite a bit of writing—reports, that sort of thing. I am a data administrator for a medical school, which involves data entry, analysis, trend tracking, that sort of thing. I’m also the “jill of all trades” in my office—where I’ve worked for about 17 years—in this job for 7. We have a great crew of people in the office—student workers and regular workers—not sure who’s more ‘normal.’

I can safely say that my current job has vast segments that are BORING beyond tears, such as now when I am doing data entry for over 1000 new residents and fellows who are entering the various med school programs. So I distract myself by checking Poshpoints, Swap-Bot, Ebay, my AOL mail, etc. etc. Unfortunately sometimes my boss catches me. (You know, even though I am middle aged I probably am not as mature as a middle aged person lol)

It’s ironic that I hate filing and data entry and yet I am in a job that requires large amounts of both.

We deal quite a lot with bureaucratic nonsense, high muckey-mucks who are more interested in letters being in Times 12 font than in signing them so that they can be mailed in a timely manner, or whether or not a faculty member has a middle initial, OR even that the person who wrote a letter (such as myself) cc’s themselves. As if we’re NOT going to make a copy of said letter for ourselves? AAARRGGHHHH And involving themselves in picayune details that are unimportant compared to the importance of signing off on something so someone CAN GET PAID???????? But they don’t think about money, I guess.

But you don’t want to hear about that……

So, I guess I am to answer specific questions according to the swap guidelines.

1. Three of the strangest jobs I've had...

I haven’t really had any strange jobs that I can remember. Oh wait, I did work in a candy factory making lollipops one summer. Yes, that might count as strange to some people. Summertime is NOT the time you want to work in a candy factory. Everything is sticky, sickeningly sweet smelling, and you never really feel clean. That was the summer after I was married. The good thing was that we got to keep the rejected lollipops and bring them home. The bad news was that we were so sick of smelling sugar that we didn’t have any appetite for candy!

Another sort of strange job was working for Hasbro (since I live in Pawtucket Rhode Island, Hasbro’s headquarters, it wasn’t hard to get a job there). In my part of Rhode Island it’s hard to meet anyone who hasn’t worked in some capacity at Hasbro, mostly on the assembly line making toys or in packing and shipping. My dad made pencils back in the 1940s at a Hasbro plant, and I made Mr. Potato Heads. I spent a good part of the summer of 1978 making toys at Hasbro on the 4-10 shift. The high school shift, it was. That was fun and no, I didn’t get tired of playing with Mr. Potato Heads. When we had time we would make really off the wall creations with Mr. Potato Head. I still love Mr. Potato Head and his various family members.

A third weird job—hmmm, these were unpaid volunteer jobs but I have worked as a volunteer for the Rhode Island Children’s Museum, conducting tours and helping kids enjoy the museum; as a volunteer PR intern for Trinity Rep Theater Company in Providence; and last, but not least, as a volunteer for the then Annual Cajun and Bluegrass Festival (now Rhythm and Roots). Now this is a fun time. You get to sleep in the People Barn or in the campgrounds, listen to really great Cajun and bluegrass music all weekend long, and dance the night away if you’re not working

I can’t think of any other weird jobs I’ve had.

2. One of the most bizarre things that ever happened to me at work was...

Being hit on by my supervisor. I was working as a winder on second shift in a textile mill (which means I was running machines that wound skeins of rubberized fabric). There were three women working this shift, plus a Haitian man who was our supervisor. Because I was going to school at the time, he got interested in me (god knows why) and kept pestering me to go out with him. NOT interested as I was already dating a guy. But he persisted and this was in the days before sexual harassment was really thought of as something to complain about. Finally I did agree to have dinner with him, only to get a call three days later from a very jealous wife. And for some strange reason, he quit the job. Hmmmm.

My life at work tends to be a bit bizarre in the sense that we get weird phone calls all the time. For some reason, everyone in the university seems to think that our office is the place to send calls about weird things, so we get calls about cadaver donations, anxiety studies, Viagra studies, etc.

3. Once I was so bored at work that I...

Mostly I surf the net when I probably won’t get caught.

I have, in past jobs, been able to study, work on novels, work on my art, do research for a thesis, and other things. I have run businesses… I can’t think of anything truly outrageous that I’ve ever done on the job. I know people who have done really nutty things on the job, and there’s a rumor around here that there was a guy who used to keep raunchy porn magazines in his desk drawer to read when he was bored, but I don’t know if that was really true. Maybe it was this guy.

4. The Weirdest Coworker In History Award goes to...

Actually in my office we are ALL strange.

Anyway, you wanted to know about a weird coworker…

Victor the “Secret Agent Man” who worked down the hall from us and spoke in a perpetual mumble. He worked in the Financial Services office and as part of his job would go over to Human Resources in another building to pick up paperwork and forms for various offices on our floor. There was nearly always an envelope for me with stuff I had to process. But did Victor ever come into MY office to hand the envelope to me? No, what would happen is that the door to our office would open and a hand would reach in and drop the envelope on the floor. Then the door would close and that was that. If he saw you in the hall, he’d barely acknowledge your existence. If he spoke with you, it was that MUMBLE MUMBLE (and no, I don’t mean the cute little penguin in Happy Feet . Poor Victor. We would try to be nice to him but he would just not want to know us. We called him “Secret Agent Man” because he was so stealthy about things, never wanting to draw attention to himself. He’s gone now, but still remembered—not necessarily with fondness though.

So, those are my dispatches from my boring job, appropriately written while ON THE JOB. I hope you have enjoyed my rantings, and enjoy the little treats I’m sending you with this letter.

Cheers! It’s Five O’Clock somewhere!

lin

Bazaar-itis

It is not funny that I am beginning to get obsessed with this bazaar to the point where I could not sleep last night worrying about the goods I need to produce. And what am I going to produce anyway? Received goods from Chris T to sell at the bazaar so that's something. I have some things I can sell. Why am I worrying so much?

I need to find out from Jenn about the boxes because the boxes must be decorated.
the photo by the way is from last year's bazaar

stop obsessing. You DO NOT have OCD

aarrgghh

Changes Coming

Well, I found out Wednesday that I will be moving offices sometime in the next few weeks. It appears that Jane, our dean, wants my old boss's office which is only logical--it's much larger than the space she was going to take with my new boss, Selene. What's happening basically is that after 10 years of having our dean on the first floor of the building and the working offices on the third floor, "they" are moving all of us together on the third floor. This is not good in the sense that now we will get Jane's restlessness and idiocy all the time (she just can't remember things, she treats people like idiots, and so on). However, it makes more sense that we all be together. It'll be good to have linda with us so that she won't feel left out of things.

Personnel has moved to the first floor--which is much more logical than having them on the third floor, don't you think. Yes, and I'm glad to get rid of the unholy trio--I never liked them much, except for the old director, Fran, who was a nice person. But she got pushed out when the new regime came in. Fun went out the window when that happened.

Jeanie, my boss, had suggested that Jane take her office but Jane, being jane decided that it was unfair to force jeanie out especially when it seemed that Jeanie was going to retire soon (and she should but maintains that she can't afford to). But I guess Jane finally decided that she did want Jeanie's office so that's going to be what happens.

Which means that Linda will move into 305 to Liz's spot--Liz will move into my spot. Then they decided that Selene the new boss will take the office where the Personnel director was (310A), I will take 310B, and Joanne will be in the outer office of this suite. COfused yet?

Jeanie gets where Liz was supposed to go (309) and has to share with either a student or Suzy, neither of which suits Jeanie's idea of what's proper. I suggested she take the closet (lol) but she nexed that.

So how do I feel about all this? Selene is jeanie's eventual replacement if Jeanie ever does retire or get pushed out. so we all will be answering to her someday. I sort of like selene but don't KNOW her well enough to judge what things will be like. I do like having my own office. Joanne being Joanne was more than willing to take the reception area even though she is "over" me as far as level goes, becaus she says I am senior to her in seniority. Which is true.

So it'll be fun. Jeanie spent the bulk of Friday cleaning her office and bugging me about the things she was discovering and how she was losing everything. Selene on the other hand was talking about how SHE was losing things. Guess it all depends how you look at it. I think I might be gaining something. we'll see

October!

We are in my favorite month, which is followed by April. I love months of transition since I'm always feeling like I'm in transition from one thing to another.

Though I don't live in Massachusetts exactly (I live 7 blocks from the border with Attleboro Massachusetts), this postcard is a favorite of mine. I love the smell of the air in October and November, the quality of the light that changes from the muggy, hazy kind one sees in a Rhode Island summer to crisp and clear. Of course I will have to put up with winter but winters here aren't as rough as they used to be and we haven't had a real snowstorm (over a foot) in a very long time. Cold weather clears out the system, clears the head, and is refreshing. But then again I say that since I live in a nice warm apartment and don't have to worry about not having a bed to sleep in.
My dad would disagree with me big time since he hates cold weather and would like to turn the heat on--but I say, "It's too early--it's supposed to be in the high 70s this week"--and he grumbles as he puts on another layer of clothes. He is always cold. During the summer i will find him under the covers unless it is really really hot and humid.

I have taken 3 days off in a row from work plus the weekend. Today was a sick day as I have been under the weather for several days and finally gave up trying to brazen it out. I just didn't feel up to working today--didn't feel up to dealing with a morning meeting, and trying to figure out what I'm going to do about my job. I just checked work email and out of 587 emails only 25 were work related. Everything else was spam. YUCK.
Compare that to my AOL account which gets 1-2 spam messages a week max, and gmail which gets maybe 1 a month and one wonders why Brown's email system can't better police spam. I shouldn't have so much spam. I wish they would get their act together.

anyway, must get moving off the computer. stuff to take care of before returning to work tomorrow. Thankfully only 3 days of work before a 3 day weekend.

ttyl

There is hope

Alas my blog has been sadly neglected and I can't imagine why sometimes I even set it up because it's not the impetus to writing I had hoped. Must add to calendar--MUST POST TO BLOG. Ahem.

THe big news in my life right now is that I have gone into partnership with a colleague at work to run a table at our university bazaar. I am now terrified. Why oh why have I done this? I am now obsessed with bazaaring. What am I going to sell? Obviously my stuff. Jenn will be selling her beaded creations. Her stuff is exquisite. Mine? I have expectations to meet--meaning my coworkers who are excited for me and who really have no clue what I am doing. I have no clue either.
So one thing I did was to ask some friends if they wanted me to sell THEIR stuff since I cannot be certain I will have enough of my own stuff to sell. Four people have bitten. That's something.

I went rummaging thru my own things to find things I've been hoarding and have some stuff I can alter, cards I can make, bookmarks, etc. Also went to Good Shephard's church sale and found some board prints, plates, and stuff. Also something at family dollar. Now what do I do with it.
Imagine me as a salesperson who hates to answer the phone.

Oh lordy.

on the Dad front--he's taken to taking naps in the afternoon on his bed. That's fine with me so long as he does stuff in the morning first. But I frankly think he's bored and still depressed. And since he doesn't seem to want to do anything about that, I can't fight him.

At least he can't yell about my room as my rummaging yesterday did result in 2 bags of trash and a bunch of torn up cardboard for the trash pickup.
YES!