So here’s the question of the day. It’s a practical one. How does one make a plumber’s helper actually WORK? I’m thinking our plunger must simply be a piece of junk. The (pinky red) rubber is getting kind of cracked where it turns itself inside out and the surface of it seems too large for the hole in the toilet so I don’t think that it gets any kind of suction…which is what I think most of its effectivity is dependent on???? I’m guessing I need a new plunger…the variety with the bi-level black rubber suction cup part. Ya know what? I don’t really want to know about plungers. Mike knew about plungers. I already know more than I ever wanted to know about this distasteful topic. ARRRRRGH! Bottom line, I think I need a new plunger and a snake too. I can’t find Mike’s snake. I am in need of one or both again. For the 4th time this week. How come none of these little articles and homilies to caregivers never ever hit on the realities of everything involved in taking over as the caregiver? You take care of the wounds, the ills, the daily personal needs. You’re the nurse. You’re the PA. You’re the chief cook and bottlewasher. You’re the financier, the chauffeur, the housekeeper, the laundress, the landscaper, the dog walker, the poop scooper (well, finally I hired the kid the next door and put him on monthly retainer…), the exterminator of occasional nasty arachnids, the car washer and scraper and gas pumper (thank the Lord we still have one station locally where they pump for you and I don’t care how much extra per gallon they charge, they are MY station of choice!!), the painter, the carpenter, and finally, the most detested job of all….the plumber. I’m ok with being almost all of these grown up things. I mean thousands and millions of grownups have been all of these things for centuries. This plumber schtick is wearing really, really thin though. I now know in painful detail why Mike referred to the plumbers on the ship as turd chasers. I don’t wanna be a turd chaser. Yet I am, with alarming regularity. Lord, please let the amiodarone get out of Mike’s system without cardiac incident and please, please let that be the cause of the plumbing problem so that when it’s gone, I will only need to get familiar with the plumber and the snake once in a blue moon? Thank you Lord.
And now, moving on to a less distasteful topic, yesterday Mike, Mikey, his girlfriend and I headed to center city Philly to pick up Mike’s new wing chair. I’ve never been to center city residential Philly. It was neat. City…but charming. I quite liked it. More than NYC to be sure. I expect you need plenty of dough to reside in this area and I’m sure it has its downsides but charm abounds. We got the chair without incident and headed on home. Once again I missed the turnpike toll booth because I was so fearful of ending up heading to Jersey and who in the world wants to go to New damn Jersey??? Not me. I kept to the left of the tollbooth thinking the Northeast Extension entrance…therefore toll booth…was thataway. It was…partially. The entrance was. Not a booth to get the ticket. I realized with dread I had gotten on the turnpike sans ticket. The turnpike rules mean that when you don’t have a ticket you pay from the start of the pike. We got off at Lansdale to rectify the situation and get back on. The very, very kind tollbooth attendant listened to my plight and took my license, put it in the computer and told me as a one time courtesy he would charge me the $1.10 fare instead of the $25.95 he is supposed to charge me. Mr. Tolltaker…Merry Christmas. You are a true gentleman! We headed up toward home from Lansdale the back…picturesque…way so we could come into Quakertown and Mikey could stop at his all time favorite, Yum Yum donuts. He and Mike always loved that place. Not me. I don’t much eat donuts since there is no Behringer’s Donuts in town any more. Finally we got home, installed the chair and Mike in it. What a blessing. He sits up straight, it doesn’t hurt his butt and he can get in and out of it easily and without aid or losing his balance. It’s a winner! When Kristin visited last evening with the boys she told him it was a stately chair for a stately guy. He blushed and giggled like a young boy.
As we sat quietly, watching TV after Kristin and the boys left we unwound from the day and Mike gave me my Christmas gift. The best Christmas gift ever. The house was peaceful and quiet. I was on the computer…as usual…and out of the corner of my eye I caught some movement. Mike was looking at me and waving shyly. I asked what was up. He told me he was just looking at me. Do you need something I wondered? No. He said “I am watching you because you are me.” I’m you, I asked? “You’re a part of me and I like looking at you.” Yeah Mike, you’re a part of me too. And suddenly all thoughts of turd chasing left me as I pondered how much I love this guy and how much he truly loves me…and how I treasure this time we have together. All the icky stuff and bothersome stuff was kind of put into perspective.