Long Distance Phone Calls From My Dad

Does anyone remember the days when long distance calls could be as expensive as a tank of gas, a trip to the grocery store,  or a visit from the plumber?  How about those calls about  medical emergencies and brief check ins to alert loved ones that you arrived safely?     My dad travelled for a living as a book salesman.   When he was out of town he called us every night but he only talked for a minute or two.   He checked in with us to make sure everything was okay.  There was no email, texting, facebook, or blah blah blah, oversharing, social media....  

All I remember was that it cost a lot of money to talk on the phone, long distance...  Our family was very frugal and careful about long distance calls.  That expense was reserved for emergencies and quick nightly check in calls.



There Might be an Expensive or Explosive visit from the plumber!   Pay up!

Do you remember those Person to Person calls and the code we all had?  If a loved one was traveling, they would call us Person to Person when they arrived at their destination.  It was a great way to cheat the rip-off lady, Ma Bell.   When you called Person to Person, the recipient could receive the call and tell the operator that the Person was not there, not available or deceased.  It was a great signal that the traveling family member had arrived safely, without the rip-off charge!!!   Person to Person call to Judy Garland!  

Remember Earnestine?  She could connect you person-to-person, station to station or God Forbid if you had to call Collect.   What the Hell did you do?  Would Your Family Member Accept a Collect Call From You?  Yikes....

Wasn't she funny?  I'd love to have dinner with Lily Tomlin someday!


Well I have to admit it's really nice these days that we can connect in a cheap way.  There's Email,  Facebook, Texting, Voicemail. and actually TALKING on the cheap Cell Phone.    The Problem is that nobody talks anymore.  Texting seems to have super ceded actual voice contact.   Whatever...   It makes me sad and depressed.


 I'm an orphan and I'd really like to talk to somebody, especially since I can't talk to my mom....

She was difficult, but she was my MOM!

Talk to your mom....

Send money...

Just Kidding.....

Love, Teresa Agnes

William Johnson Breuer Grave Marker Conundrum

What does one do with the standard issue Veteran's Administration bronze grave marker when her father's cremains are disinterred from the local cemetery and bound for Arlington National Cemetery?

I got the call on Monday of this week, June 23.  The nice lady at Resurrection Cemetery confirmed that my daddy, William Johnson Breuer, who died on March 12, 2006, had been officially delivered to the local funeral home awaiting the arrival of my mother's cremains, so they can make the journey together, along with Little Orphan Agnes, their official escort, to Arlington.   The timing of this journey is TBD.  I await the call from Arlington.

My Parents will receive a combined military burial ceremony with full honors.  My father was a Second Lieutenant Junior Grade, second in command on a Landing Craft Tank, 11th Wave, Omaha Beach, D-Day, June 6, 1944.  My mother served in the United States Navy Nurse Corps.  She was stationed at St. Alban's Hospital in Long Island, New York.  They met at Delmonico's Restaurant in Manhattan.  It had been repurposed into a glamorous Naval Officer's Club for the duration of the war.  Elizabeth Arden set up shop in the Ladies Room with a salon stocked with free cosmetics and products for the Navy Nurses.  It must have been a fabulous place for our service men and women to escape the horrors of the war and have some fun.   They had live music, fine dining and free libations.

Back to the original question.  What do you do with your father's grave marker?  They can't use it at Arlington.   As you might imagine, it's pretty crowded there these days...

The cemetery suggested that I have them dispose of his marker.  Well, that didn't set well at all with me!   It's engraved with his name, the dates of his life and his service as a soldier, husband, and father.

I'm going to the cemetery to retrieve it tomorrow.  It's a strange trip to make, but I guess we all have some strange and difficult trips to take from time to time in this life..

Different, mostly unsuitable,  ideas popped up. Do I melt it down and donate the proceeds to veterans in need of medical care?  Do I place it in a beautifully framed shadowbox and hang it somewhere in my house?  Do I display it on an easel somewhere in my house?

My daddy grew up on the farm in St. James, Missouri.  He had a great appreciation for the outdoors. He loved taking care of our beautiful yard surrounding the house where I grew up.   We always had colorful trees and bushes; dogwoods, lilacs, forsythia and home grown tomatoes in the backyard.

Charlie and I have a big yard and I've decided to create a garden for my dad with a large Crepe Myrtle Tree as the centerpiece surrounded by flowers that will bloom every spring to coincide with his journey to Heaven.  We'll place his beautiful bronze marker in a prominent position in his garden.

If you have a better idea, you'd better weigh in soon...  I'm going to the nursery before I pick up the grave marker tomorrow!  I wish I could think of something funny to say.  The best I can come up with is to quote my mother during her last days,  Up your nose with a rubber hose.  It's later than you think!  You can all go straight to Hell!  When I get there, we'll start the party!  I'm sure this embarrassed my father terribly... Aren't they a beautiful couple?  I bet he took her to Delmonico's when she got to Heaven.

Carpe Diem!

Middle Aged Orphan Notices Disturbing Onset of "Old Lady" Monikers and Salutations

Why is it that all of the sudden since my mom died I keep noticing clerks and waiters calling me Ma'am?   Really?  Do I look that old?  Do I really look like a "Ma'am"?

I know I'm probably being overly sensitive but what ever happened to "Miss",  "Missy", "Hun", "Young Lady"? 



 Hell, I'd prefer "Hey Lady" or "Hey You".



I just don't get it.  I don't even use a walker, cane or wheelchair.  All of my mother's DME, Durable Medical Equipment, has been removed from my vehicle and is stored in the garage.

I can still feed myself, dress, toilet, climb stairs, and shower independently.  What's with the Ma'am stuff?  I much prefer to be called Little Orphan Agnes, Little Nut Brown, Teresa Agnes, Ag, or Fat Ass.  Just anything but Ma'am.

Please don't tell me you see a resemblance to a Ma'am...  I still color my hair and wear contact lenses!  

Enough with the Ma'am stuff.  Please stop already!

Pull Up Your Pants....

New story about my mom, Margaret.. This is a really good one if you have a very basic knowledge of anatomy and a raucous sense of humor. I've kept this one off of the Internet radar until now... It's been tucked away in my memory vault for about 15 years. 

I often stopped by my parent's house in the Greens, a lovely neighborhood in NW OKC and would take them to lunch at very extravagant places like SUBWAY... This was their favorite place aside from Luby's and Queen Anne Cafeterias...

Okay finally, here's the story..... One afternoon at Subway, we ordered and sat at a lavish table festooned with cheap napkins and plastic flatware. My mother was facing the door and couldn't help but notice an interesting couple entering this fine establishment. Her first comment upon seeing them was, I've just lost my appetite. 

The girl component of the couple was dressed in very short shorts, the low rider style complemented by a midriff top. Well, to the defense of the girl, it was a rather warm summer day in OKC. This poor girl really should not have been wearing this particular ensemble... Let's just say her Rubinesque body type was not especially suitable for such revealing apparel. 

As they passed our table, my mother stopped her and said,  My dear you need to pull up your pants.  Your rectum is showing. Direct quote... I swear... Who could or would make this up? I tried to hide under the table as did my father... I was just praying that her companion didn't have a gun... This was way before Mary Fallin helped enact the Open Carry law...

The young woman responded to my dear mother by thanking her and pulling her short shorts up as best she could to cover the exposed rectum... Well not really.... It was only plumber's butt but my mother had a flare for the dramatic and was a nurse with an extensive medical vocabulary. 

I was just grateful to God that the whole scene did not erupt into gun violence

This is just more Margaret Post Death Oversharing and Outbursts.. Please forgive me... Thank you for indulging my irreverent expressions and memories of my mother... Boring except for the rectum part.... 

Economy Wavers in the Wake of Margaret

I've been far too busy mired in my own personal grief to truly consider the negative impact Margaret's death will have on many industries and businesses.  It's finally starting to sink in that not only have I been laid off but many others will experience a serious RIF reduction in force due to her departure.  Don't expect to collect unemployment either.

Just the Dairy Industry alone will face dire repercussions with a precipitous decline in demand for ice cream.

What will become of Mint Chocolate Chip?  Will it survive without her?  Only time will tell.

And then there's the pork industry to consider.  A serious decline in the demand for bacon and pork products, that she NEVER ate, is bound to affect pork belly futures.  Yikes!

How will the hog farms of Oklahoma survive a disaster of such magnitude?             

On a much broader scale, what will happen to all those migrant workers in central California who relied upon her copious consumption of steamed vegetables?    Will they have to return to Mexico penniless?  

How will all this affect the 2016 elections and just what are the politicians going to do about it?  Those Sons of B's as my mother so fondly referred to them.

Furthermore, just how big of a hit will our GNP take over this devastating loss?  

And finally, possibly the biggest loser of all, the Oklahoma Restaurant Association.  Two come immediately to mind, The Hefner Grill and Bellini's at Waterford.   My mother's weekly presence in these two establishments no doubt paid the light bill and stimulated business simply by her elegant presence and sparkling conversation.  The staff at both establishments adored her and doted on her incessantly.

Make no mistake.  Mighty Margaret who Mustered to Heaven on Memorial Day will be sorely missed by many besides her laid off daughter who must go in search of new and meaningful pursuits.

The Early Days of Orphanhood

After many years, weeks, and months in the waiting room, my dear mother, Margaret, finally got her boarding pass and security clearance to Heaven.  The Angels came for her on Memorial Day, Monday, May 26, a perfect exit for the exquisite Navy Nurse who served her country so bravely in WWII.  We will forever celebrate her final journey on Memorial Day when all flags fly at half mast.
                  And just what about this do you think she did not plan?  

Reverse the tape seven weeks....

Margaret fell ill AGAIN as Forest Gump would say, on Monday, April 7.   This most difficult phase of her waiting room journey lasted for seven weeks.   All the experts told us her death was eminent from the get go.  Well guess what?  She proved them all wrong...  SURPRISE! 

Everybody thought she was waiting for Good Friday so she could die on the Cross with Jesus. Nope... Well maybe she was waiting for Easter Sunday to rise with him.  Not so much...  She wouldn't want to upstage Jesus.   So, those of you who knew her well, feared she was going to play a practical joke on me and go on Mother's Day.  Well she didn't do that either.  I suppose because by this time, she really liked my hair.  (Refer to the Power of Hair post on my blog).

So she held on by the skin of her intact teeth until Memorial Day.  Glory be to God.  Margaret went first class to Heaven with the Angels...

On to Ophan Matters...

Here are a couple thoughts about my transition to orphanhood...   I'm really a newbie at this.  Please don't think I'm telling you how it will be for you or what lies ahead in your future..

I've been experiencing MGA's - Mini, Grief, Attacks.  They come without warning, out of nowhere... You might be in the car, in a restaurant, listening to music, on the toilet or who knows where...  You just start crying.. pathetically so...  Maybe this is not so different than the fear of WMD's that invoked Congress to start a war in Iraq...    Only difference is that the MGA's really exist...  Whoops....

One more thing, for now.....

I've made many calls today to cancel credit cards, place claims for life insurance, cable bills, bank accounts, blah, blah, blah... Just be ready to be placed on hold....  Yeah...  "Your call is important to us, please wait"...  Really? Finally I get a human being to cancel my mother's Master Card.  In spite of his thick foreign accent, we managed to navigate the cancellation.  I was patient and resisted the temptation to blow a gasket until he asked me what state is Oklahoma City in.............

 Good God Almighty....  I let him have it and asked where he was.  I was certain that he was in India...  Well no... He said he was in based in Asia..  Really?  Did Indians start charging too much to staff call centers so they had to move them to Viet Nam?   Was I talking to Hanoi Hank?

Not to offend...  I really like Indian food and Pho...  Just saying...  




 

Just Breathe

How can something as simple and seamless as breathing become such a life threatening struggle?  What we take for granted every second of every day has become a nightmare for my mother.   How does a body and a pair of lungs become so weak and deteriorated that even continuous supplemental oxygen, powerful antibiotics and the almighty steroid dose pack cannot revive and restore her ability to take a deep breath?  

This is day 14 of her struggle to breathe during her battle with pneumonia at age 91.   She's fought pneumonia battles in the past and has won the fight.   She has defied the odds numerous times.

 This time has been very different.  For the first time, she has experienced confusion and disorientation with the onset of this evil doer bug.  This time we've refused the hospital.  What she needs cannot be found at the hospital.  I will not subject my mother to the frighteningly unfamiliar people and surroundings there.  They don't know her.  They don't have the time or resources to care about her.  There's just not enough help there.  She's just another name on a checklist...   Besides, why would I place her in an environment teeming with superbugs like MRSA and Staph?  No more...

She is at the Heaven House.  She is comfortable and surrounded by caregivers she knows and loves. She has someone with her in her room at all times.   She has continuous oxygen, and every comfort measure available.  She will NEVER be kicked out or tossed to the curb because she is dying!

She has received the Sacrament of the Sick from Fr. Rick Stansberry and the Apostolic Pardon from Abbot Lawrence Stasyszen.  Sr. Rose Power and the Sisters of Mercy have visited her and she continues to be in their prayers.  She has every ticket for her First Class Journey to Heaven.  It's as though she's stuck on the jet bridge waiting to board the plane.   Maybe there are a bunch of really important platinum, business class flyers ahead of her...  Maybe there are a bunch of people ahead of her trying to gate check carry on bags that are too big.   Really?  You can't take it with you!    She's got no extra baggage.... I don't understand why they don't just let her board the plane, NOW!

I pray my mother dies a happy death and can go easy in her sleep...   Her journey is in God's time.  This photo was taken in 1949.  She could breathe easy back then.   Wasn't she a beauty?

What's a "Shut-In"?

My mother has many diagnoses.  She's 91.  She's been on hospice for three years this month.  Her "end stage heart failure hospice diagnosis" continues to endure supreme in the world of healthcare demise.    We've whittled down most of the doctor's appointments.  I no longer take her to the urologist, dermatologist, podiatrist. cardiologist, dentist, gynecologist, oncologist, physiatrist, and orthopedic surgeon.

She and I live a spartan life of just two specialty doctor visits spread over the course of several times a year.   I take her to the periodontist every three months to examine and clean her gums and to the ophthalmologist to provide damage control in regards to her glaucoma and dry eye corneal condition.

We went to the ophthalmologist today.  It was an ordeal but ended with a good outcome.  The caregivers are doing a fantastic job with the 6 times daily drops required to maintain what vision she still has.

My mother has a wonderful internist who makes house calls.  We have no worries in that regard.  Her healthcare is astounding and her environs are amazing.  She resides in a spectacular ASS-isted living facility.  It's amazing and only 4 people reside there.  It's a beautiful private home.  The caregivers are kind, loving and over the top!

I'm still able to take my mother to a few select doctor visits and to her favorite lakeside restaurant every Sunday for brunch.  She eats like a lumberjack.  She enjoys a huge omelette with ham and cheese, bacon, french fries, and ice cream.  

When this is the case, why is she still referred to as a "shut-in"?  If she were a "shut-in", I wouldn't be taking her to these places.

Furthermore, my mother is very mad at God.  She feels as though that he has forgotten her!  Why have all of her siblings and friends pre-deceased her?  God forgot her!  She's determined to sue him when she gets to Heaven.   Heaven help God if she ends up in Hell!!  She'll organize a huge class action lawsuit against him.  I'm thinking she knows a lot a people in Hell.  I don't ask many questions.  I just drive her to appointments and try to keep my mouth shut.  

The Cruise From Hell had absolutely nothing to do with my Mother. Murphy's Law at Work!

Most of you know that I seldom cross the street without travel insurance.  The primary motivation for this particular form of OCD is my mother.  Whenever we travel I live in fear that I will get the fall call or she will come down with pneumonia, bronchitis, etc and I will have to return toute suite.  Indeed this has happened and the insurance has saved the day.  Have you priced last minute one-way tickets lately? Unless they're running a special to Toledo or Tupelo, you'll need to take out a second mortgage.

However, our most recent voyage delivered misery of another sort.  Murphy's Law was present and wreaked havoc at every opportunity.

The fun began on Saturday, January 11.  We boarded a nice big Delta jet for a quick 90 minute flight to Atlanta.  Not a cloud in the Oklahoma sky.  Smooth sailing until we reached final approach.  Turbulent vomit ride.   Severe storms, tornado warnings and wind sheer surrounded us.  This could have been enough to bring Gary England out of retirement.   After circling for about 30 minutes the pilot announced that we had been diverted to Augusta, GA, about 20 minutes away.  We landed, refueled and sat parked on the tarmac for over an hour.  We were seated in the rear of the plane.  By this time, the plane began to take on the aroma of a barn in July, minus horse flies.  We were not allowed to deplane.  There was no drink cart.  Nothing but a steady line to the restroom one row back from our seats.  A great beginning indeed! This is not my idea of aromatherapy.

We finally arrived in Atlanta 3 hours late and had missed every connection to San Juan that would have allowed up to board the ship before its 8:30 pm sailing.  We literally missed the boat!  Thank you Murphy!  After standing in impossibly long lines and CB burning all his cell charge talking to the cruise line and the insurance company, it was finally decided that we would overnight in Atlanta, catch the first flight out for Barbados on Sunday, overnight in Barbados, and catch up with the ship on Monday during their first stop.  Sunday should have a been a relaxing sea day for us, but NO!  The cruise line agreed to rebook the air and provide accommodations in Barbados at their expense.  We were on our own in Atlanta.

  My understanding is that if you book your air through the cruise line, they are responsible and beholden to get you to the ship and provide lodging and incidentals along the way.  Nevermind.  We were so exhausted, we did what we were told and went to the American Airlines counter to claim our boarding passes for the next morning.  Murphy reared his ugly head again.  To our shock and dismay, we were told that Celebrity made the reservation but failed to pay for the tickets. $1,200 dollars later, just bend over and take it, we claimed our bags and were on our way to the Airport Hilton.   Thank God we had the sense to claim the bags before they ended up in San Juan on the late flight that was overbooked!  They can do that you know.  We did contact Celebrity about the $1,200 and were told we'd be reimbursed once we boarded the ship.  Famous last words.

Next morning at dark thirty, we boarded the plane for Barbados via Miami.  Celebrity advised us that hotel accommodations were being arranged and that a representative would meet us in the baggage claim.  However, they were not willing or able to identify where we would be staying.   It was time to fill out the Barbados custom form and we could not identify where we would be staying on the island, only that Celebrity was making arrangements and we would be boarding the Summit the following morning.  The nice customs folks in Barbados were none too pleased with this answer.  We were DETAINED!  They must have thought we were homeless people planning to camp on the beach, sell drugs and panhandle vacationers.   In 52 years on this planet, I have never been detained!   The use of cell phones was forbidden and we didn't know how to dial out on their local phones.  Fortunately the American Airlines rep took pity on us and went in search of the Celebrity rep outside the secured area.  She was our savior.  We would be staying at the Accra Beach Resort.  This satisfied the customs people and we were released after another hour of vacation ruined.

Ahhh, a Caribbean Resort at last!  After two long grueling days of travel nightmares, we were finally on our way to the beginning of our vacation.  So what, we missed the first two days of the cruise.  We were spending a night at a lovely beach resort in Barbados on Celebrity's nickel.   What?  Murphy again?  Dammit!  Here's the view from our balcony.

Yes folks.  This is the view from the lovely Accra Beach Hotel and Resort!  A more fitting name might be the Acrid Beach Hotel and Resort.  Our room was filthy and tiny.  We managed,  like we had a choice..  The next morning we were instructed to meet the Celebrity rep in the lobby at 9 am.  We noticed two other couples looking disheveled, unkempt, and exhausted.  Yes, they too had experienced the double whammy of Murphy's Presence and the pathetic customer service, or shall I say non-existent customer service of Celebrity Cruises.  We forever bonded.  One poor couple from Toronto had no bags for days.  The third couple was from the NY area still reeling from the big snowstorms that delayed everything at JFK.

The van took us to the pier and we finally saw the bright shining Celebrity Summit.    One Celebrity Rep was waiting for us at a card table on the pier to check all of us in.  There were many more than our group of 6.  Yet another long queue.  Passports and documents blew in the wind.  Murphy was swirling in the Caribbean breeze!

Finally on board and settled in the cabin. We went to Guest Relations to retrieve our $1,200 one way ticket fare and the first two days of the beverage package we failed to consume.    Lo and behold.  We were told that "Corporate in Miami" had to authorize such things.  No matter that we had alerted the "Corporate Folks" on Saturday of our delay, rebooking etc.     We were advised to come back later.  And yes we did... Four more times...  We finally were credited the two days of beverage package credit and oddly enough, they paid for our airfare with $100 bills...  They couldn't cut a check or credit our Amex.  How strange was that?  Are they financed by the Mob?  Just what everybody wants is $1,200 in 100's stashed in their stateroom safe. I guess they thought we might give it all back at the Casino.

Au Contraire mon amie!  

The cabin was fine.  The food was unremarkable. A gift card to Denny's or IHOP would have been equivalent.  The weather was great. The ports were okay;  Barbados, St. Lucia, Antigua, St. Maarten, St. Thomas and San Juan.   Charlie bought a cheap Seiko mechanical watch but could never find an automatic watch winder except on Amazon.   I found a nice gold bracelet to replace the one I lost in the parking lot outside of the Hefner Grill.  My father would be very angry with me over this.  Charlie was great about it!

They managed to screw up our debarkation documents too.  Even though we paid $72 for airport transfers, they had us grouped with the folks who were cabbing it to the airport, independently.  Really Celebrity?  Another trip to Guest Relations to straighten this out.

Debarkation, even with the correct documents, was yet another issue.  We boarded a bus without our bags.  Yet another "parting gift" from our Celebrity friends.  We waited another hour at the San Juan Airport, outside in the 85 degree heat for the delivery of our bags via a turnip truck.  Outrageous.  

The San Juan Airport is a disgrace to the United States of America.  It's the toilet bowl airport of the Americas.  It's disgustingly overcrowded and far too small to accommodate the mega ship passengers who are dropped off there.  There was one, ONE, restroom in our entire concourse of 20+ gates!   When did you last see a hand dryer from the early 60's?  There's just nothing better and cleaner than washing your hands and pressing that nasty button to dry them!   How about that foot peddle next to the toilet with the crooked nasty seat?  There was only one restaurant in the entire concourse.  It was pathetic.  I waited 30 minutes for a bottle of water.  My husband's burger was $16.

In spite of the pathetic lack of basic services like food and clean restrooms, the San Juan Toilet Bowl of the Americas Airport was bursting with Duty-Free shops full of Liquor and Cosmetics.  Hmmm.

Aside from the San Juan Airport and their egregious lack of passenger conveniences and cleanliness,
it's a real damn shame that, Celebrity, the premium brand cruise line of Royal Caribbean Corp. has such dreadful, non-existent customer service.  We've been enjoying cruises for 22 years.  Fifteen voyages in all.   We've sailed with Royal Caribbean, NCL, Holland America, Princess, Crystal, Silverseas, and Regent.  We've never experienced such pathetic, inept customer service and apathy.  The food was boring and overrated too!  We will never sail with Celebrity again.

In spite of our ridiculous ordeal with Celebrity Guest Relations to acquire refunds, we were always able to stay in cell phone contact with my mom thanks to our AT&T plan.    She held her own throughout our trip.  No pneumonia.  No Fall Calls.  No Bronchitis.  If we don't get our money back from CSA or Celebrity for our Atlanta sojourn, I'm sure she'll be on the phone with them and giving them Holy Hell!  All is well.  My mom is fine.  We didn't lose our bags.  We didn't get the Norovirus and we're home safe and sound planning the next cruise on REGENT!  

We have a fabulous travel agent who has shepherded us through the good, bad and the ugly of this Murphy's Law Cruise.   After 22 years of happy, uneventful cruising and 15 voyages, probability was bound to catch up with us.   We are planning our next cruise with Vacations to go.com   Our top notch agent's name is Tina Parsons.   We highly recommend her!

Bon Voyage!

Pneumonia Watch!

My mom's officially on Pneumonia Watch..  Her doc visited her today and listened to her COPD ravished lungs and detected some dangerous crackles on the right side...  She presents and seems just fine.  She's asymptomatic right now, but this lung can blow like an IED within hours.   Thankfully, he came a week early for his house call.  He's prescribed the Levoquin and a Medrol steroid dose pack...

Because she is on Hospice, she will receive the antibiotic before bedtime. She'll also receive the steroid but won't start it until tomorrow morning.  This is yet again one of the many benefits of Hospice.  Any delay in receiving the antibiotic could result in a full blown pneumonia and a hospitalization.

This early intervention could prevent a multitude of problems in addition to the pneumonia.  Once admitted to the hospital, these little old people become prey for all kinds of bad infections like staff and strep infections, flesh eating bacteria, you name it. The big, bad germs are alive and thriving in the hospital.  It's way better to keep them out of the hospital if at all possible.  We've navigated this road many times with my mom and her doctor.  He stays way on top of her condition and always tries to be proactive.  I'm so very grateful. However, I fear that one of these days, even the early intervention won't be enough to stop the pneumonia hospital freight train.  Patients, especially the elderly, can reach a point where they and their bug of choice becomes resistant to the antibiotic.  There are only so many options out there.

At any rate, my mom's a fighter and she's just mad enough most of the time to stay alive in spite of all the naysayers.   For now, it's a wait and see situation.  I'm just so grateful that she's getting the best of care and everything is being done to prevent this train wreck.

And so it goes.  Pneumonia goes with the territory of the end of life journey.  If your loved one lives long enough, he or she will experience it.  My mother's a pneumonia "repeat offender". She's been hospitalized and diagnosed numerous times.  One thing that we've added to her regimen that has been most helpful has been twice daily breathing treatments.  Good luck getting these if your loved one is stranded in a big box ASS-isted living facility.  BTs are simply not available or administered..end of story.  Many hoops must be jumped through to accomplish this feat, but it is life saving and a spectacular pneumonia prevention technique.

As I'm writing this, I received a call from the 24/7 on call Hospice Nurse.  Her name is Brenda and she is the weekend on call nurse. She's an absolute angel.  She's making her rounds in frigid temperatures and wicked Oklahoma winds.   She's already been to see my mom.  She arrived just as the Home Health Nurse was administering the breathing treatment.  She listened to my mom's lungs and totally concurs with her doctor.  The antibiotic and steroid dose pack are in transit from the 24/7 pharmacy. She's already spoken with the doc about the dosage and administration.   All is as well as can be.

Now really, who has an MD, LPN Hospice Nurse, and a Home Health Certified Breathing Treatment Technician visit, hang out, physically examine, do a lung listen, and administer a breathing treatment on a Sunday afternoon at a fabulous boutique ASS-isted Living Facility?    Only my BSN Navy Nurse Mom.  She deserves every morsel of it.

My mom was despondent, wanting to die and depressed while I was there after the doctor left.  She tends to to lean this way while I'm around...  She has a dramatic side to her.  According to the Hospice Nurse,  my mom was absolutely delighted with all the attention she was getting from her and the breathing technician and basking in the afterglow of her visit with her doctor.  The hospice nurse arrived shortly after I left.

Her doctor has a special camaraderie with my mom...  She took care of many wards of Marines during WWII.  Her doctor was a Marine in Viet Nam.  Enough said.  Loyalty, kindness and good medicine rule!

Let's hope the Levoquin and the Dose Pack do their job!