I am definitely in a better frame of mind this morning. Ron apologized for being thoughtless and ordering the pizza when I’d gone to the trouble of getting stuff for him, fixing chili for him, and putting in a dish ready to be heated. He used the excuse that pizza just sounded so good and he ordered it. I know he figures that he’s got social security money, his retirement money, and his mom’s annuity money coming in – what harm is it in him spending a little bit of that on himself. There’s no harm in it. I spend a “little bit” on him every month – groceries, doctor’s visits, the house payment, car payment, car insurance, health insurance, utilities, and other incidental items like the shirts I just bought him last month because he needed some and they were on sale.
I did some calculating this morning on what it would cost to rent a hotel room for the week we’d be in Washington this summer for Shaun’s homecoming. Based on what I can find for hotel rates, I don’t think Ron and I will be able to go. Ron’s never been to a homecoming so it wouldn’t be fair of me to say “we can’t both go, so I’m going without you.” And, he can’t go by himself because he’d never make it from the airport to the hotel.
With his ongoing medical problems, and him probably needing surgery on his left knee, I planned to take FMLA (time off without pay) to conserve my PTO (although if I’m not going anywhere this summer, not much sense in trying to conserve it) and since life is stretched to the max as it is, I don’t see me being able to save over $700 for a hotel and then another $200 or so for a rental car. Even if Ron could get from point A to point B on his own, he can’t manage the scooter on his own and can’t manage medications, CPAP, or a host of other things without help. We have to have a hotel room because he’d not be able to get up the stairs to get into Shaun and Jenny’s apartment. Plus, the apartment is so small, it would be just too many people there. We’d have to have a rental car that would hold the scooter (which is very hard to take apart and put back together – so we’d have to rent a smaller one or maybe borrow one, if even possible). So – we’ll just have to be content to see them when they come to Kansas after Kaitlyn is born.
We’re just in a Catch-22 situation with no way out. Ah well… such is life. You play the hand you’re dealt and make the best of it. I try to keep it upbeat but you can tell from reading my blog that I do have my moments of despair. We’ve all got them and the only way to really get past those moments is to admit they’re there – and then petition God for more faith and sustenance to get you through them.
I honestly cannot fathom how people who don’t have some kind of faith and a Higher Power to look to make it through daily challenges – and especially through the more intense challenges, such as the illness of a loved one, the death of a loved one, or any of the other countless challenges we face during our lives.
Thank God for God and His never-ending grace in my life.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
Should I, should I, should I???
Should I worry about him ordering and eating pizza – or just let it go?
Should I just keep on keeping on?
How do I counteract such activity when I feel like it’s adding to his problems?
Should I just go buy a bunch of snacks and stuff for him to have at the house? Wouldn’t that be telling him I’ve given up? I just don’t know what avenue to take with this. I have so many thoughts and I feel like I’m being negative when I write them down. I don’t want to be negative. I really want to write positive things down, but it’s harder and harder some days to find the positive.
I told him on the way to the doctor’s about how hard it is to keep a budget under control when it’s so full of ordering out. He was asking if there was a diet limeade in his future but since we were on the way to his foot appointment, I said not at this particular moment. Then, when we got there he asked me if I had enough change to get him a diet Dr. Pepper. I did, so I did – and figured that the diet limeade was no longer an issue. I told him how I’ve not spent any money at the deli (except once) all year and that people go out to eat all the time but I don’t – I stay in so I don’t spend any money. I explained that I’ve probably not spent $5 in the machines all year and that’s with buying water a couple of times. I only drink Starbucks when Amy buys it (I have bought it once). I said it’s just hard to stay on top of things with the constant flow of money going out to fast food places. So, on the way home I asked him if I put him some chili in the microwave bowl, with the lid, if he could heat it up for himself for lunch. He said sure. I ate a bowl of cereal and asked him what I could get him. He chose to have two granola bars. I got him a gallon of water, fixed myself a lunch and headed out the door.
I wasn’t checking his account but I was checking the main one and saw the $50 I put in his account on Friday was down to $19. I’m just fried. I called him up and said “I guess the conversation we had on the way to the doctor’s went in one ear and out the other.” He said it didn’t but he ordered two p’zones, a 2-litre of diet Pepsi, and a medium cheese pizza – figuring that would be good to feed whoever was here tonight. He was hungry and says he was thinking ahead.
I cleaned the little tomatoes for him and he said he was eating on those. I am just so ticked about him and food.He can just eat himself to death. I’m absolutely FINISHED with trying to help him. I mean it. He doesn’t care any more about himself and my effort and what I have to do, and what he’s doing for the future, then I cannot let myself care either. It sounds harsh, but it’s tough love. I cannot let him destroy me while he’s in the process of destroying himself.
I probably shouldn’t say stuff like that. So – there… I took it all back.
Seriously, the man has got to be insane to think that this behavior is OK. It’s putting him more at risk for complications. He’s already having problems with weight gain. I am sure he’s depressed and depressed people either don’t eat or they eat too much. He’s got to be in the latter. I honestly don’t know where else I can either cut corners, or how to have the stuff in the house that he will fix. It seems that no matter where I put the stuff, he’s always got the excuse that he couldn’t find anything to eat or there wasn’t anything there to eat.
Note: He called me later at work and apologized. Said he realized I was scrimping and cutting back, and he blows that much money on pizza and he could see that it was not something he should have done. I did stop at Target on the way home and bought snacks, microwave soup, Kashi GoLean cereal, 100 calorie packs of different things, and some peanuts. Hopefully, he'll be able to "find" something that interests him.
Should I just keep on keeping on?
How do I counteract such activity when I feel like it’s adding to his problems?
Should I just go buy a bunch of snacks and stuff for him to have at the house? Wouldn’t that be telling him I’ve given up? I just don’t know what avenue to take with this. I have so many thoughts and I feel like I’m being negative when I write them down. I don’t want to be negative. I really want to write positive things down, but it’s harder and harder some days to find the positive.
I told him on the way to the doctor’s about how hard it is to keep a budget under control when it’s so full of ordering out. He was asking if there was a diet limeade in his future but since we were on the way to his foot appointment, I said not at this particular moment. Then, when we got there he asked me if I had enough change to get him a diet Dr. Pepper. I did, so I did – and figured that the diet limeade was no longer an issue. I told him how I’ve not spent any money at the deli (except once) all year and that people go out to eat all the time but I don’t – I stay in so I don’t spend any money. I explained that I’ve probably not spent $5 in the machines all year and that’s with buying water a couple of times. I only drink Starbucks when Amy buys it (I have bought it once). I said it’s just hard to stay on top of things with the constant flow of money going out to fast food places. So, on the way home I asked him if I put him some chili in the microwave bowl, with the lid, if he could heat it up for himself for lunch. He said sure. I ate a bowl of cereal and asked him what I could get him. He chose to have two granola bars. I got him a gallon of water, fixed myself a lunch and headed out the door.
I wasn’t checking his account but I was checking the main one and saw the $50 I put in his account on Friday was down to $19. I’m just fried. I called him up and said “I guess the conversation we had on the way to the doctor’s went in one ear and out the other.” He said it didn’t but he ordered two p’zones, a 2-litre of diet Pepsi, and a medium cheese pizza – figuring that would be good to feed whoever was here tonight. He was hungry and says he was thinking ahead.
I cleaned the little tomatoes for him and he said he was eating on those. I am just so ticked about him and food.
I probably shouldn’t say stuff like that. So – there… I took it all back.
Seriously, the man has got to be insane to think that this behavior is OK. It’s putting him more at risk for complications. He’s already having problems with weight gain. I am sure he’s depressed and depressed people either don’t eat or they eat too much. He’s got to be in the latter. I honestly don’t know where else I can either cut corners, or how to have the stuff in the house that he will fix. It seems that no matter where I put the stuff, he’s always got the excuse that he couldn’t find anything to eat or there wasn’t anything there to eat.
Note: He called me later at work and apologized. Said he realized I was scrimping and cutting back, and he blows that much money on pizza and he could see that it was not something he should have done. I did stop at Target on the way home and bought snacks, microwave soup, Kashi GoLean cereal, 100 calorie packs of different things, and some peanuts. Hopefully, he'll be able to "find" something that interests him.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Snow Removal
Between us, Ron and I have five children who live in this area. Not one phone call from the bunch of them to see if we could even get out of our garage.
One worked yesterday, one was in Hesston snowed in, one doesn’t work, another probably worked, and the last one never calls on a good day so why I’d think he’d call on a bad day is beyond me.
I think they all figure that since Amy lives here, she can do it. Amy is never home. When she is home, she’s sleeping or reading or doing homework. We haven’t really needed too much in the way of snow removal this year but each of the times we have, I’ve been the one to take care of it. Amy shoveled Isaiah a path to the bus one time.
Although I try to not let it interfere with what I have to do, I do have a physical disability (only one balance nerve that sometimes forgets to work) and I really have no business on ice. I’ve fallen in the past and really hurt myself (once required rotator cuff repair; another time broke my finger, sprained my ankle, and my hip). I fell off the stairs this morning and now my left wrist and ankle hurt. Not bad, but I’m aware of it. My back hurts from the activity. Not bad, but I’m aware of it, too.
I took pictures out the back but I didn’t take pictures out the front before I started working on it. Here are the pictures out the back.
These pictures I took after I’d already shoveled as much as I could. The tape measure shows how deep it was against the garage door, all the way across. This portion I didn’t shovel away. I only cared about getting what stays in the shade shoveled off. The rest will melt without any assistance. The snow on the steps was up to the level of the inside stoop. I couldn’t tell where one step ended and the other started. That’s how I fell. Got too close to the edge of one and fell the rest of the way down. Good thing there was snow on top of the ice.
I think I’ll spend the rest of the afternoon resting my poor, old, tired body.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Let’s face it…
What Not To Wear is never going to come calling. It's up to me to determine what to wear and to be responsible for obtaining it. That's OK. I'm quite used to doing things on my own. I just don't know HOW to achieve this on my own but I will do my best.
I'm watching one today (since I'm snowed in) and feel so in tune with the girl on this episode. There are a few differences between us, but the main one is she's getting to figure out things for her body at a much younger age. She is 29; I am 52. She feels that her clothing controls her and her decisions on what she does. I feel the same. She has let clothing hold her back from attending functions; I have as well. She has a wardrobe of "hoodies" that she feels covers her problems. My security blanket has been my T-shirts. She has items that convey she gives up; I do, too. She's a bit on the larger side and gives the impression that she believes she should not look nice because of her size. Sounds familiar to me...
I decided to go through my wardrobe, take pictures, and post them along with my comments. If someone who has good advice has something to offer, I welcome the suggestions. If you have rude comments, please save them. I say enough mean and demeaning things to myself that I don't need that type of help. Since I've lost 60 pounds (I do still need to lose at least 25 more) I've had to change my wardrobe at least twice. I've given all of my larger clothes away - some of which were expensive and worn one-two times as I was transitioning. The person who received them appreciates it as she is also transitioning into a smaller size. But, it doesn't help the pocket to have to go back and buy more. Thankfully, I have access to Amy's clothes that she can no longer wear. She's also lost some weight and her jeans from last year fit me this year.
Tops are a bit different. I have more upstairs and since I've had more children and abdominal surgeries, her blouses don't fit me. That sends me back to T-shirts. My arms are hideous so I try to cover them as much as possible. I have biceps from lifting the wheelchair and electric scooter (and the ramp, which weighs about 75 pounds). My triceps are still very flabby and I don't know how to fix that.
I have no butt. It's flat. I am wider than I'd like to be and my thighs are just so-so. I need to start walking again (I know... I really do) but when I get home in the evening, walking is the farthest thing from my mind. I'm not an early morning person so getting up earlier is pretty much out of the question. I could walk at work when the rest of the group goes on break but I don't make that choice. I don't know why. I really don't.
So... here are the pictures and my comments. (I know – I should have cleaned the mirror first, but I didn’t think of it and once I realized how many water spots were on it, it was too late and I wasn’t re-doing the clothes and the pictures. Maybe some day – but not this day.)
 | This lovely shot is to display my arms. I hate my arms. I think they make me look old. |
 | My legs aren’t too bad. Not great – but not too shabby. They could be improved upon and once I start walking again, that will happen. I don’t have much of a butt, though. |  |
Now, here are some lovely wardrobe pictures.
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The top three pictures are of just a few tops. The bottom four pictures show (left to right, top to bottom) my jeans, my tops, my camisoles (for under my tops) and some work shirts (with the company logo on them), and my T-shirts. I wear most of them and sometimes I wear them to work. My office is very casual and jeans are mostly worn. We can wear Capri pants in the summer.
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This series of photos are of some of the outfits on me. I’m really not impressed with any of them. My arms either look too big or my butt looks too flat, or the pants are saggy in the backside. If I had tops that covered the backside, I’d wear them.
 | I’m obviously trying to look cute in this top. It’s got a little Empire waist seam, some decoration on the neckline, and some pattern to the top itself. It’s two layers, with the decoration on the outside layer. The inside is solid black. |
 | This top I bought last summer to wear to our July 4th family reunion. I don’t know if I’ll wear it this summer or not. |  |
| I definitely don’t fill it out as much as I did then, but it still doesn’t look too good on me. | I may not have any choice in the matter if it’s all that I have. |
 | Another shot of those lovely arms. They’re not as bad this year as they were last year. I can look at them and not think I’m going to throw up. |
 |  | |
Here’s another lovely shirt. |
The picture is really bad; the shirt is not that awful looking. Close, but not quite. I thought this would be really cute; it’s a size smaller than I usually buy in my tops so I thought it would fit better. It doesn’t. So, I tried again with the other green shirt. It’s too big on the shoulders and keeps showing my straps. I’m not a “free and easy” kind of person who thinks it’s OK to show my undergarments.
This shirt came in more than one color – so I bought more than 
one color. I’m only showing the pink but I also have it in black. The little rhinestones down the front and the “faux” camisole underneath were things that caught my attention. Plus, the sleeves were a bit more substantial than a lot of things I have been able to find. I hate those little cap sleeves that cover nothing and draw attention to problem areas.
 | I really like this top. The jeans are too big but I wear them anyway. |  |
| They’re kind of baggy in the rear and they’re very loose around the waist. | I have a pair just like them in khaki and another in black. |
I found some more pictures of myself wearing this brown top. These were taken last Labor Day.
Here’s one of my lovely T-shirt outfits. I wear this a lot – even though it’s too big. This picture was taken in October.
This blouse I also wear frequently. I love the 
sparkle of it. This picture was also taken in October. I’ve lost a little bit more weight since then – maybe 15 pounds. I still wear the tops pictured though.
I tried to find more pictures of my wardrobe, but no luck. I’m not one to have my picture taken because I have such a “positive” self-image. I have decided fairly recently, though, to just suck it up and get in the picture. I don’t want my family to look back at pictures in the years to come and ask why I wasn’t there. I know that I’m an important part of their lives and I shouldn’t let my clothing (or my body image) dictate whether or not I’m participating in life.
I did find some lovely hair shots. I’ve had the same hair style (with very little variation) for 30 years. This past summer, Amy talked me into getting it cut short and letting it go straight. I do miss my curly hair but I don’t miss the cost of keeping it curly. I can’t afford to keep it colored so it’s going gray. Oh well… I think I look pretty good for 52 (almost 53) so if I’m gray, then I’m gray.
The last picture is my hair today. Incidentally, I still have the T-shirt in the first picture – and I still wear it.
What a great opportunity - WASTED!
Just think - the youth group in a church, going out to the homes of the elderly, shut-in, and handicapped and volunteering to shovel the drive and/or sidewalk. Or - having a fund-raising event of going out and asking for donations to shovel the drive and/or sidewalk.
What a great way they could show God's love and compassion for others by making themselves useful. Our church did that when I was growing up and when my kids were little we frequently sent them to the neighbors to see if they needed anything.
Neighbors being neighborly, family checking on family, Christians reaching out to others. What a concept. Wish I knew some people like that. (We've lived here since December 2007; our next-door neighbors and the ones directly across the street from them have known about Ron's health struggle - even saw the ambulance last summer when he nearly died - and have never asked if there was anything I needed or if they could do anything. The neighbors across the street are business partners with Ron's son-in-law and they've never even inquired about how Ron was. At least the ones next door have asked when they saw me outside how he was getting along and have said for me to let them know if I needed something. I'm the kind of person that if you don't offer directly to do something, I will do my best to not ask you unless I know that I'm just completely in over my head.)
Makes me wish I knew a good Mormon youth group. I know those kids are willing to work and help others. Mormons are a great example of how you should treat your fellow man (woman, child, etc.) without regard to religion or color. I know they're hard workers because I had a group of young Mormon men clean up a back yard for me - and would not accept a dime in repayment. They did better work FOR FREE than the other people I had previously HIRED had done.
I just spent 30-45 minutes chopping away the ice from against my garage door and about 2 feet of my driveway. I figure if I absolutely have to get out, I can get over the remaining hump and out into the drive. The ice and snow against the door was about six inches deep and it's tapered off as it's gone toward the street. I was trying to get as far out as the roof overhang so the sun would have an opportunity to melt what was left.
It's not happening today. It may not happen tomorrow. I'm too old for this and not really in the best of shape or health. Irregular heartbeats started kicking in as soon as I got winded. I leaned my head on the shovel handle for about five minutes until I could get the rate back to where it should be and started the chop/shovel routine again.
We'll see how it looks tomorrow. I think church is out for me in the morning.
What a great way they could show God's love and compassion for others by making themselves useful. Our church did that when I was growing up and when my kids were little we frequently sent them to the neighbors to see if they needed anything.
Neighbors being neighborly, family checking on family, Christians reaching out to others. What a concept. Wish I knew some people like that. (We've lived here since December 2007; our next-door neighbors and the ones directly across the street from them have known about Ron's health struggle - even saw the ambulance last summer when he nearly died - and have never asked if there was anything I needed or if they could do anything. The neighbors across the street are business partners with Ron's son-in-law and they've never even inquired about how Ron was. At least the ones next door have asked when they saw me outside how he was getting along and have said for me to let them know if I needed something. I'm the kind of person that if you don't offer directly to do something, I will do my best to not ask you unless I know that I'm just completely in over my head.)
Makes me wish I knew a good Mormon youth group. I know those kids are willing to work and help others. Mormons are a great example of how you should treat your fellow man (woman, child, etc.) without regard to religion or color. I know they're hard workers because I had a group of young Mormon men clean up a back yard for me - and would not accept a dime in repayment. They did better work FOR FREE than the other people I had previously HIRED had done.
I just spent 30-45 minutes chopping away the ice from against my garage door and about 2 feet of my driveway. I figure if I absolutely have to get out, I can get over the remaining hump and out into the drive. The ice and snow against the door was about six inches deep and it's tapered off as it's gone toward the street. I was trying to get as far out as the roof overhang so the sun would have an opportunity to melt what was left.
It's not happening today. It may not happen tomorrow. I'm too old for this and not really in the best of shape or health. Irregular heartbeats started kicking in as soon as I got winded. I leaned my head on the shovel handle for about five minutes until I could get the rate back to where it should be and started the chop/shovel routine again.
We'll see how it looks tomorrow. I think church is out for me in the morning.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
400 calories
I bought miniature powdered sugar-covered doughnuts tonight. There are 24 doughnuts in the bag; the serving size is 4 doughnuts and 200 calories. The thought was that Isaiah liked these and I was thinking about getting him a treat when I picked them up.
I ate one; Ron at NINE! And that's only because I took the bag away from him. When I said what the serving size is, and the amount of calories, he said, "woo... that's 400 calories that I've eaten today."
I asked him why he'd only eaten 400 calories today and he said "there wasn't anything to eat."
If I hadn't been hungry, I would have tossed my dinner and left the room. He made me so mad! I showed him (again) the other day (after hearing the "there's nothing to eat" comment too many times) where things were. I had moved stuff from the pantry to the lazy susan and cabinet so he could get to them easier - and made it a point to show him where things were. There's canned soup, canned chili, canned fruit, and vegetables. In the freezer there are lean pocket sandwiches, single serving packages of frozen vegetables, and several other things.
I cannot believe he had the audacity to say there wasn't anything to eat. Well, he's right if he thinks there wasn't any chips, or cookies, or soda, or candy that he could have gotten to. There wasn't fresh fruit, but there was canned and frozen. He didn't have any money in his account to order pizza (or p'zone) so in his mind, there wasn't any food.
I'm sick to death of it. I realize I'm no Susie-homemaker, but I'm doing the best I can. I do have just a little bit on my mind. I know he really misses Jenny because she kept snacks and stuff in the house the month she was here (that's not the only reason but she did get him any snack food that he wanted and an extra large diet limeade almost every day). She spent a lot of money on snacks and Ron really enjoyed it. LOL - she spoiled him!! I don't really know what else I can do or how I can change things. He really doesn't see how he stresses me over the things he says and does.
I think if he doesn't get a clue and shut up, one of us is going to be really sorry because one of us is going to say things that might be regretted later.
Wouldn't know who that might be though.
I ate one; Ron at NINE! And that's only because I took the bag away from him. When I said what the serving size is, and the amount of calories, he said, "woo... that's 400 calories that I've eaten today."
I asked him why he'd only eaten 400 calories today and he said "there wasn't anything to eat."
If I hadn't been hungry, I would have tossed my dinner and left the room. He made me so mad! I showed him (again) the other day (after hearing the "there's nothing to eat" comment too many times) where things were. I had moved stuff from the pantry to the lazy susan and cabinet so he could get to them easier - and made it a point to show him where things were. There's canned soup, canned chili, canned fruit, and vegetables. In the freezer there are lean pocket sandwiches, single serving packages of frozen vegetables, and several other things.
I cannot believe he had the audacity to say there wasn't anything to eat. Well, he's right if he thinks there wasn't any chips, or cookies, or soda, or candy that he could have gotten to. There wasn't fresh fruit, but there was canned and frozen. He didn't have any money in his account to order pizza (or p'zone) so in his mind, there wasn't any food.
I'm sick to death of it. I realize I'm no Susie-homemaker, but I'm doing the best I can. I do have just a little bit on my mind. I know he really misses Jenny because she kept snacks and stuff in the house the month she was here (that's not the only reason but she did get him any snack food that he wanted and an extra large diet limeade almost every day). She spent a lot of money on snacks and Ron really enjoyed it. LOL - she spoiled him!! I don't really know what else I can do or how I can change things. He really doesn't see how he stresses me over the things he says and does.
I think if he doesn't get a clue and shut up, one of us is going to be really sorry because one of us is going to say things that might be regretted later.
Wouldn't know who that might be though.
It's only three cents...
I needed to go to the store and since we might get bad weather, I stopped at the store closer to my work. One of the items I added to my cart was vine-ripened tomatoes. They looked good and they were on sale if I used my Dillon's plus card. I *always* use my Dillon's plus card.
I got all my shopping completed and waited my turn to check out. The clerk (Denise) was in training but she was doing a pretty good job. It was horrendously busy in there and she was not being flustered at all. But, she put the wrong code in so the tomatoes rang up as scallions (with a total price of $3.89). She couldn't get it to reverse so she had to call the manager over to have an override.
The weight of the tomatoes going in was 1.30 pounds; the weight of the credit was 1.29 pounds - a difference of three cents. I told the manager that I was being charged $3.89 but he had only credited $3.86. His response - it's ok; it's only three cents. My response - yes, but I'm paying you three cents more than you're crediting me back. He said he just put in the credit for the amount and the weight so maybe the weight was off on one or the other. Yes, I say - but I've been charged more than you're taking back off. I didn't buy scallions; I bought tomatoes. I should be credited with the correct amount and not an incorrect amount.
He walked away! I could not believe it. This was a MANAGER!!
I just looked at the clerk and the sacker and said I was certainly glad the difference wasn't a couple of dollars. They just stood there, not saying anything. I asked them again - yes, it's only three cents and I'm not trying to make a big deal of three cents but did they understand what I was even saying??? The manager should have had the smarts to realize that if $3.89 was charged and the credit showed -$3.86, there was something wrong. In essence, I paid for the clerk's finger on the sack because when he did the credit, she was standing away from the register. It's only three cents to me, but how many other customers pay for a finger resting on the produce or some such thing? Three cents charged to me, times XX number of customers a day, could be a really tidy profit for the store.
The more I thought about it, the more irritated I've become. The guy should have stood there until he figured out why the thing was off – or manually put in another credit. If it had been off the other way, I would have said – hey, you gave me back too much money. It's only three cents, but it's the principle of it.
On top of that - the clerk AGAIN charged me for her finger because the tomatoes when she re-weighed them came up as 1.30 pound. Why when it's a charge, it's more weight than when it's a credit???
If this is an example of how this store operates, I'll be sure to take my business elsewhere. I realize they were busy (but it was tapering off - nearly 7:00 pm - so he had the time to figure out why it was off and should have had the level of customer service to have done so). I am very disappointed that I was having to explain math to him and he still wasn't getting it. And, to walk away when an issue is not resolved to the customer's satisfaction is highly unprofessional.
I sent this letter to the district office. The money isn't an issue as much as getting an apology would be. I want the assurance that clerks won't rest their hands on produce bags while they're weighing something and the assurance that the manager will be taught how to fix an overcharge so the amount of the credit is the same as the overcharge.
I got all my shopping completed and waited my turn to check out. The clerk (Denise) was in training but she was doing a pretty good job. It was horrendously busy in there and she was not being flustered at all. But, she put the wrong code in so the tomatoes rang up as scallions (with a total price of $3.89). She couldn't get it to reverse so she had to call the manager over to have an override.
The weight of the tomatoes going in was 1.30 pounds; the weight of the credit was 1.29 pounds - a difference of three cents. I told the manager that I was being charged $3.89 but he had only credited $3.86. His response - it's ok; it's only three cents. My response - yes, but I'm paying you three cents more than you're crediting me back. He said he just put in the credit for the amount and the weight so maybe the weight was off on one or the other. Yes, I say - but I've been charged more than you're taking back off. I didn't buy scallions; I bought tomatoes. I should be credited with the correct amount and not an incorrect amount.
He walked away! I could not believe it. This was a MANAGER!!
I just looked at the clerk and the sacker and said I was certainly glad the difference wasn't a couple of dollars. They just stood there, not saying anything. I asked them again - yes, it's only three cents and I'm not trying to make a big deal of three cents but did they understand what I was even saying??? The manager should have had the smarts to realize that if $3.89 was charged and the credit showed -$3.86, there was something wrong. In essence, I paid for the clerk's finger on the sack because when he did the credit, she was standing away from the register. It's only three cents to me, but how many other customers pay for a finger resting on the produce or some such thing? Three cents charged to me, times XX number of customers a day, could be a really tidy profit for the store.
The more I thought about it, the more irritated I've become. The guy should have stood there until he figured out why the thing was off – or manually put in another credit. If it had been off the other way, I would have said – hey, you gave me back too much money. It's only three cents, but it's the principle of it.
On top of that - the clerk AGAIN charged me for her finger because the tomatoes when she re-weighed them came up as 1.30 pound. Why when it's a charge, it's more weight than when it's a credit???
If this is an example of how this store operates, I'll be sure to take my business elsewhere. I realize they were busy (but it was tapering off - nearly 7:00 pm - so he had the time to figure out why it was off and should have had the level of customer service to have done so). I am very disappointed that I was having to explain math to him and he still wasn't getting it. And, to walk away when an issue is not resolved to the customer's satisfaction is highly unprofessional.
I sent this letter to the district office. The money isn't an issue as much as getting an apology would be. I want the assurance that clerks won't rest their hands on produce bags while they're weighing something and the assurance that the manager will be taught how to fix an overcharge so the amount of the credit is the same as the overcharge.
The man sometimes just drives me nuts
I pour over our finances several times a week, trying to decide where we can cut and what we cannot cut. We sold two vehicles and bought one replacement so we wouldn’t have the extra car payment and car insurance. Ron was OK with that although he hated to give up his Explorer. I hated to give up his Explorer, but it was the best financial option for us.
We discussed it and he was OK. But, he’s not dropped it since. OCTOBER. That’s how long ago we did this. Everywhere we go now, he’s scouting for vehicles. Every time he mentions buying this or buying that, I get a knot in my stomach. Why can’t he understand the stress level that I’m already under and the additional stress him talking about buying a vehicle and driving causes? He is not physically capable of driving right now. I don’t know that he’ll ever be physically able to drive again, but I don’t say that to him. I told him that it really stresses me when he talks about vehicles. I said when the time is right, we'll find him something to drive if that's what he really wants. He says he understands.
We get past the vehicle conversation and he says if he needs a car, he can take me to work and come get me; after all, he’s retired and won’t have anything better to do. If he thinks he needs to drive himself somewhere (like a physician appt), then him just keeping the car is the most economical solution. But, then a week or so goes by and he brings it back up.
I understand that he doesn’t want to surrender the last vestige of independence. I would love for him to be able to drive. I hate being the only person to ever drive anywhere. It gets old. By the same token, I have to be realistic about the whole thing and so should he. It just gets very old for him to waffle back and forth on things.
We decided (mostly, I encouraged and sort of made the final determination) to sign up for a six-month meat/frozen vegetable/frozen fruit plan. I have to figure out exactly how many pounds of food we’re getting but the bill is $207 per month for five months. The food will probably last us for at least eight months – some we’ll run out of before then but other parts of it we’ll still have. It was $197 down and then once the food is delivered, the first payment is due 30 days later. Ron was fine with it at first because he got to pick and choose what meats he wanted, including beef jerky. The hamburger comes in one pound chubs and one pound packages of 3 patties each. There are roasts, steaks, chicken, fish, different frozen vegetables and different frozen fruits (peaches, strawberries, and blueberries). We custom-tailored a plan for us, figuring if Amy and Isaiah were there, we’d still have enough. Plus, we don’t eat meat every night so it’s not a big deal.
The next day, out of the clear blue sky, he says he thinks it's too high. I said fine, I'd call and cancel but I was trying to build in a hedge against inflation and that I thought even though it was six payments, the food would not be all gone in six months. He said OK - since I do the finances and the shopping, then he'll trust my judgment.
Today - new story... Since we can "afford" this meat purchase, why can't we afford to find him a vehicle? He thinks he'll ask his son from 1st marriage about buying his van. {sigh} I felt my blood pressure going up and the knot in my stomach. No, I don't want to buy Aaron's van; he doesn't want a van anyway, he wants a truck. So, why buy Aaron's van (or even try to) if that's not what he ultimately would want. Well, his reasoning, is that he'll then have a vehicle. HE' S NOT EVEN WALK ING WELL YET - and will probably need surgery on his left knee. So - why buy anything now? I don't know.
Then he thinks I'm arguing with him just because I want to be right. I don't want to be right - I am right. Lord knows, I'd love to be wrong. I'd LOVE for him to heal up, not need surgery, be able to function again, and drive. God knows that would take some of this burden off of me.
I don't see that happening any time in the near future, no matter how much we want it.
We discussed it and he was OK. But, he’s not dropped it since. OCTOBER. That’s how long ago we did this. Everywhere we go now, he’s scouting for vehicles. Every time he mentions buying this or buying that, I get a knot in my stomach. Why can’t he understand the stress level that I’m already under and the additional stress him talking about buying a vehicle and driving causes? He is not physically capable of driving right now. I don’t know that he’ll ever be physically able to drive again, but I don’t say that to him. I told him that it really stresses me when he talks about vehicles. I said when the time is right, we'll find him something to drive if that's what he really wants. He says he understands.
We get past the vehicle conversation and he says if he needs a car, he can take me to work and come get me; after all, he’s retired and won’t have anything better to do. If he thinks he needs to drive himself somewhere (like a physician appt), then him just keeping the car is the most economical solution. But, then a week or so goes by and he brings it back up.
I understand that he doesn’t want to surrender the last vestige of independence. I would love for him to be able to drive. I hate being the only person to ever drive anywhere. It gets old. By the same token, I have to be realistic about the whole thing and so should he. It just gets very old for him to waffle back and forth on things.
We decided (mostly, I encouraged and sort of made the final determination) to sign up for a six-month meat/frozen vegetable/frozen fruit plan. I have to figure out exactly how many pounds of food we’re getting but the bill is $207 per month for five months. The food will probably last us for at least eight months – some we’ll run out of before then but other parts of it we’ll still have. It was $197 down and then once the food is delivered, the first payment is due 30 days later. Ron was fine with it at first because he got to pick and choose what meats he wanted, including beef jerky. The hamburger comes in one pound chubs and one pound packages of 3 patties each. There are roasts, steaks, chicken, fish, different frozen vegetables and different frozen fruits (peaches, strawberries, and blueberries). We custom-tailored a plan for us, figuring if Amy and Isaiah were there, we’d still have enough. Plus, we don’t eat meat every night so it’s not a big deal.
The next day, out of the clear blue sky, he says he thinks it's too high. I said fine, I'd call and cancel but I was trying to build in a hedge against inflation and that I thought even though it was six payments, the food would not be all gone in six months. He said OK - since I do the finances and the shopping, then he'll trust my judgment.
Today - new story... Since we can "afford" this meat purchase, why can't we afford to find him a vehicle? He thinks he'll ask his son from 1st marriage about buying his van. {sigh} I felt my blood pressure going up and the knot in my stomach. No, I don't want to buy Aaron's van; he doesn't want a van anyway, he wants a truck. So, why buy Aaron's van (or even try to) if that's not what he ultimately would want. Well, his reasoning, is that he'll then have a vehicle. HE' S NOT EVEN WALK ING WELL YET - and will probably need surgery on his left knee. So - why buy anything now? I don't know.
Then he thinks I'm arguing with him just because I want to be right. I don't want to be right - I am right. Lord knows, I'd love to be wrong. I'd LOVE for him to heal up, not need surgery, be able to function again, and drive. God knows that would take some of this burden off of me.
I don't see that happening any time in the near future, no matter how much we want it.
Friday, March 20, 2009
The end of an era
Forty-six years...
That's how long Ron has played the bass guitar in some fashion or another - first it was in bands, then Christian settings, recordings, and church.
Ron called the praise team people tonight and told them he was retiring, that his hands just couldn't do it anymore, and he didn't want to hold the group back from learning new material. Poor guy - I felt so sorry for him.
I know it was an extremely hard thing for him to do. He got all choked up and had tears on his face when I went through the living room. It had to be his decision as it wasn't one that I could have made for him. Watching him struggle, I knew that the time was coming.
It's just hard to sit back and have to watch him go through this.
That's how long Ron has played the bass guitar in some fashion or another - first it was in bands, then Christian settings, recordings, and church.
Ron called the praise team people tonight and told them he was retiring, that his hands just couldn't do it anymore, and he didn't want to hold the group back from learning new material. Poor guy - I felt so sorry for him.
I know it was an extremely hard thing for him to do. He got all choked up and had tears on his face when I went through the living room. It had to be his decision as it wasn't one that I could have made for him. Watching him struggle, I knew that the time was coming.
It's just hard to sit back and have to watch him go through this.
Medical Updates
Ron’s blood count is low so he has to take Procrit injections again. If his hemoglobin drops below 12 (the doctor said his should be between 15-17 if he were healthy). The Procrit injections are to help him but they’re just a total inconvenience since they can only be given at the doctor’s office by St. Francis. It takes longer to unload him than it does to get the actual injection, not even including the drive up there and back. They don’t have wheelchairs so I have to take the scooter. Since they’re so expensive (about $700), insurance is very picky about who can give them. It would be really nice if they’d let the nurses at our family doctor handle it but they won’t.
His blood work every Monday is also a time drain. At least they have wheelchairs that I can use to take him in there and I don’t have to do his scooter.
He had an appointment Tuesday morning to see about his left knee. While we were at the orthotic office this morning, his left knee popped and I think he tore something in it. He was already having serious problems with it but now he can’t walk on it, can barely put any weight on it, and can barely transfer from point A to point B. I don’t know how he’s going to get around this weekend. It’s quite the mess.
The skin on his right heel is breaking down. I noticed it last night but didn’t want to say anything to him about it. He said he thought there was a dark spot, and there is but I down-played it. I’m afraid he’s going to need surgery on his left knee, which introduces a whole new set of things for me.
I canceled my mirror repair on my car (I broke the driver’s side mirror on my garage door the morning I had to go early and pick Ron up from the sleep study) and changed his Tuesday appointment to Monday at the same time. He’s got blood work at 8:30 and the doctor at 10:15 so I don’t expect I’ll be able to get to work before noon. The good news is Tuesday I will be able to make it by 9:30. I hope I can schedule the mirror repair for a Saturday morning because there’s no other time that’s convenient.
They made a right-heel insert for his shoe that is kind of a brace, too. It comes up on his ankle on either side to help support it and keep him from rocking to one side. He’s to wear it for 30 min twice a day for 2 days; then one hour twice a day for 2 days, and then build up from there. If his heel is already breaking down from the little bit of walking he’s doing, I don’t see how the brace/insert is going to help him.
I honestly don’t know how people deal with and take care of chronically ill family members year in and year out, for years on end, while they have any semblance of a life outside of that. I don’t want to sound whiney or say I can’t cope, but it sure is draining. I guess I’m going to get the paperwork to apply for FMLA again for this year. I didn’t want to and had hoped that it would not be necessary. Financially, I don’t see how taking time off without pay is going to help us out but I can’t risk having my job in jeopardy without the FMLA. Every time I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel, I realize it’s just another flippin’ train. It doesn’t help when he tells me that I could always pray that he’ll die in his sleep. Oh yeah – that just makes my day even better.
But – my chin is up; tomorrow is still another day and an opportunity for things to improve! I’ve got my big girl smile on and things are better than they could be.
His blood work every Monday is also a time drain. At least they have wheelchairs that I can use to take him in there and I don’t have to do his scooter.
He had an appointment Tuesday morning to see about his left knee. While we were at the orthotic office this morning, his left knee popped and I think he tore something in it. He was already having serious problems with it but now he can’t walk on it, can barely put any weight on it, and can barely transfer from point A to point B. I don’t know how he’s going to get around this weekend. It’s quite the mess.
The skin on his right heel is breaking down. I noticed it last night but didn’t want to say anything to him about it. He said he thought there was a dark spot, and there is but I down-played it. I’m afraid he’s going to need surgery on his left knee, which introduces a whole new set of things for me.
I canceled my mirror repair on my car (I broke the driver’s side mirror on my garage door the morning I had to go early and pick Ron up from the sleep study) and changed his Tuesday appointment to Monday at the same time. He’s got blood work at 8:30 and the doctor at 10:15 so I don’t expect I’ll be able to get to work before noon. The good news is Tuesday I will be able to make it by 9:30. I hope I can schedule the mirror repair for a Saturday morning because there’s no other time that’s convenient.
They made a right-heel insert for his shoe that is kind of a brace, too. It comes up on his ankle on either side to help support it and keep him from rocking to one side. He’s to wear it for 30 min twice a day for 2 days; then one hour twice a day for 2 days, and then build up from there. If his heel is already breaking down from the little bit of walking he’s doing, I don’t see how the brace/insert is going to help him.
I honestly don’t know how people deal with and take care of chronically ill family members year in and year out, for years on end, while they have any semblance of a life outside of that. I don’t want to sound whiney or say I can’t cope, but it sure is draining. I guess I’m going to get the paperwork to apply for FMLA again for this year. I didn’t want to and had hoped that it would not be necessary. Financially, I don’t see how taking time off without pay is going to help us out but I can’t risk having my job in jeopardy without the FMLA. Every time I think I see a light at the end of the tunnel, I realize it’s just another flippin’ train. It doesn’t help when he tells me that I could always pray that he’ll die in his sleep. Oh yeah – that just makes my day even better.
But – my chin is up; tomorrow is still another day and an opportunity for things to improve! I’ve got my big girl smile on and things are better than they could be.
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