We’re still in the Holiday Inn Express, Fort Bragg, and we are fine.  Elvon is coping much better than I feared.  It’s pretty much life as usual for him.  I’m the one who’s fretting.  If I go incommunicado and my cell doesn’t work, the hotel land line is 707-964-1100.

Did I tell you Sylly P was checked in as a service animal? Compassion finds a way to bend the rules.  She is doing good service, keeping me sane.  Last night, I had a lot of trouble sleeping, trying to decide whether to stay here or get farther up the coast to Eureka, three hours away.  Sylly P, lay on my chest and purred me into a state of relaxation, and I finally fell asleep.  The locals here have faith in their safe harbor and I sure hope they are right.  It has never been tested like this before.

Cal Fire is still saying the situation will get worse before it gets better.  Marissa Goldman, the Nurse at Fountaingrove Lodge, called me this morning.  She confirmed that we should not try to rejoin our group.  They are holed up in Concord, at Oakmont of Montecito.  That’s well south and east of Santa Rosa, but conditions are not as good as they are here in Fort Bragg.  The sun is shining and the air is clear.  We are 20 miles from the nearest fire, which is directly east of us.  The fire zone is now over 120 miles long from North to South.  We are at the northernmost end of it.  If it starts to go farther north, I’ll want to get out, but it’s easier said than done.

8000 firefighters in the area.  Fires are combining and still growing.  More evacuations being called.  All existing ones are still in place.  No one can go back into any of the evacuated areas.  It’s still too dangerous.  I am listening to local briefings on TV and they are telling people they are on their own if they decide to stay.  The first responders will have no time for them, and they will be a distraction.  Everyone must stay out and one guy said, “If you are planning to visit Calistoga, you are not welcome.”  Strong scary stuff.

Carol Berg, who likes in Silverado Springs, decided to stay in her home.  She is a source of news.  Here’s her report:  “ I have stayed in our home here on Troon Drive. I was told that I would not be allowed back in for 7 days so I’ve decided to stay here. They have just turned back on the electricity here so I do have power but the gas is still turned off, I do not have internet or t.v., my cell phone just started working and so I wanted to let you all know that I am here. I’ve kept an eye out for all of your homes and so sorry to see those that are lost. I first hand saw them when Tim and I drove around after it first happened. I’ve been in touch with Celia and Bob and they are at the Hampton Inn with Freddie. I don’t know where the rest of you all are except for what is on this email. I pray that you all be able to come back soon but it’s not looking really good. The water has been compromised here and must be boiled. Most of the homes still do not have any electricity or gas so you would not have hot water, we are just fortunate that we have electricity now here in the Springs. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for any of you while I’m here I can drive around this area but I can’t leave because they won’t let me back in. So I’m staying put using my microwave and I have plenty of water and food here. Love and prayers to you all that have lost your beautiful homes and so happy for those that did not.

Hugs, Carol B.”

Ruth Berggren, who lives in Silverado Highlands, evacuated to the city, and had this to report: “Here’s a quick status report.

The fires are apocalyptic.  The fire has ravaged the neighborhood of my new home—of the 111 houses in the area, 33 are completely gone.  Burned to the ground.  Nothing left.  It’s devastating.  And almost completely random.  My house in Silverado is still standing, but the wind is changing tonight, and the area is considered threatened again.   So we are all on pins and needles.  I haven’t been able to get to it, but we have video that shows it still there.  Others weren’t so lucky.

My house on 3^rd avenue came within feet of the fire.  A policeman told me yesterday that the houses on 3^rd are still there.  I haven’t been able to see it, either, because of roadblocks and continuing danger.  It is in escrow, and, believe it or not, the owners have not backed out.  I have a friend who was supposed to close on a house on the 19^th.  The house doesn’t exist any more.

The smoke in Napa is worse than Beijing.  No visibility, except at night you can see the red flames of the fires along the ridges.  When I was driving back to SF Tuesday night, we saw the flames along the eastern ridge, and a huge plume of black smoke just south of where my house should have been.

A convoy of a dozen or more ambulances went by, on the way towards Napa.  It was spine-chilling.  We later determined that the ambulances were for evacuating the VA hospital.

I appreciate everyone’s words of support and concern.  I’ll try to keep you updated, but it is hard.  It is emotionally and physically draining.

More when I get the time. Love, Ruth”

Pray for us.  We’ll get through it, but it’s no fun at all, at all.

We have wonderful friends.  Chris and Larry Silver offered us their fabulous city apartment, in the Marina District, for 10 days.  It was very tempting but I turned it down.  It would save us a couple of thou but I am not at all sure that we could get there before they left, that it would not further disorient Elvon, and there would need to be an accessibility bar by the toilet or he will just tear down their towel rack.

So we are staying put.  We managed a shower this morning and that feels better.  Facebook was down at 10:00 am, doubtless overloaded. I got more news when it came back up.  We exercised in the gym, and I came back to my computer, with the TV on beside me.

I’ll start with the good news, but there isn’t much.  The Campbells, Aitas, and Gandaras still have their houses.  The Klenzes lost the most beautiful Frank Lloyd Wright style house on Loma Vista.  In the Highlands Alan and Betsy Gustsfson and Chris and Patty Bias lost their homes, as did Carmen Schmidt, the Blanks, the Beatos, the Dianas, the Anyos, the Wisbys, Bill Halsey and Raissa Sarantschin, Peter Gibert and Michele Kiefer, and Gene McSweeny.  There are more, but I don’t know everyone.  My heart is broken for all the homeless.

And guess what?  The wind is picking up.  Since it is still out of the North, we’re staying put and I am going shopping again.  Elvon is doubtless delighted that he has had the same pair of socks on for 3 days, but it doesn’t thrill me.  I’ll fix that.

I erred when I said we were between two fires.  I didn’t realize that when I went through Ukiah to get here, I also went back UP the coast a good few miles.  So we are 20 miles North of the northernmost fire.  Of course, I only found this out after I packed up again last night, to evacuate again farther north.  Thanks to Nate at the Front Desk, who enlightened me when I started asking about the next Holiday Inn up the way.  So I unpacked, and put on my nightie, and answered emails, until 1:00 am, instead of driving.

I also erred in my Napa reporting.  Very few people have got in, so it’s hard to get real information.  The good news is that the Granges’ home has been spared, as has the Stewarts’ the Robertsons and Carol Kieschnick’s.  Laskers’ and Ruth Berggres’s Highlands homes are still standing, too.  The bad news is that Val and Mike Moone’s house is gone, along with Freddie Faraone’s, Coleman and Jeanne Rosenbergs’s, Sallyann and Peter Berendsen’s and the Gustafson’s custom build on Canyon, that everyone loved so much and wanted to buy.  I did get a text from Sallyann this morning and they are fine, if bereft.

I have no words, nor tears.  I may still be in shock.  We won’t be home any time soon.  But the Lodge is still standing and the Holiday Inn people in Fort Bragg are very nice to us.  I went out today and bought a change of clothes for Elvon, a 36 pack of Depends, kitty litter for Sylly P, and a 6 pack of underwear for me.  The air is not great, but I am sure it’s a damn site better than at home.  The sun is even out this morning, but the reports on containment of the blazes are far from encouraging.

My days are full, as so many friends are calling in, texting and emailing. Elvon is taking it well, but he does ask a lot of questions about why we aren’t at home.  The TV helps answer, but then he forgets.  This Holiday Inn has a recumbent bicycle, so he got 45 minutes on that while I walked the treadmill and did core exercises.  I am doing my best to keep our bodies in shape.

Like the HI in Montreal, they let me bring take-out to eat in the breakfast room. The choices are a far cry from Montreal’s, though.  Last night it was a Round table pizza.  Today I am going to scope a seafood restaurant that Nate recommended and see if they will do take-out.  There’s also a good Mexican.  I lose my appetite watching the news while we eat, but I am addicted to it.

Today, I am going to try to get Elvon clean.  This retrofitted accessible room only has a tub, so he can’t get into it, but it does have a telephone shower.  I think he can grasp a bar from outside the tub and I can hose him down.  It’s been five days.  He was due Monday morning, but you know how that went. He’s pretty stinky.

Stay tuned to this blog for more.  If you sign up to follow it, it will arrive in your email inbox.  Click Follow on the upper left-hand side.

Love to all.  Stay strong.  We will get through this.

Happy Birthday to me.  The night was uneventful and I got eight blessed hours of sleep. I haven’t even turned on the TV, so this is last night’s news.

I am in contact with our evacuees, but we won’t be joining them because it would be too hard and too disorienting for Elvon.  As it is, sometimes he understands the situation perfectly, but then he’ll lose his grasp of it and just want to be taken home.  It was easier to explain up until 9:00 pm, when the networks went back to regular programming, and I lost my visual aids.  Here’s what I know:

Both our old house in Napa and new place, Fountaingrove Lodge, are still standing but still in danger.  We slept between two wildfires and the deep blue sea in Fort Bragg, but we are among the lucky ones.  We’ll be staying here until we can go back home, or find a plan B, if we need one.  I have no idea how long it will take to restore power, water, gas lines, etc., so it may be quite a while.

A lot of dear friends in Napa lost their homes, with all their treasures and memories.  If you know these names, here’s a short list: Ulla and John Brown, Bob & Celia Stewart, Marilyn and David Anderson, Frank and Linda Grange, Vanessa Braun, Bill & Cindy Ward, Morrie & Sharon Bobrow…and: the Sheldon’s old house, Hinman’s, Fred and Gary’s, on and on, and more I don’t know about yet.  301 Deer Hollow is still standing, along with 303 – Sophie Bevan’s, 305 – Marlene and Stan Rosenberg’s, and 307 – the Callan’s. The other side of Deer Hollow is all gone on the up side from Tamarack.  The “Lower Oaks” as Dale used to call them, are intact.

Fountaingrove in general was hard hit.  Not much left there except our Lodge, and God knows when we will be able to move back in.  I‘ll call the desk and book us in here for a month.

Sunday, October 8, 2017 Canadian Thanksgiving

Even with the current state of Elvon, we have much to be thankful for.  We had a quiet day, French toast for breakfast, with bacon and sausage, cleaned up paperwork, and booked hotels for Singapore and Hong Kong.  That had been nagging at me, as we are going around Chinese New Year, and the local people travel.  Now, our little group has two great places to lay our heads, The Marina Bay Sands in Singapore and the Conrad in Hong Kong.  That done, we spent an hour in the gym, I picked up 9 eggs from our Lodge chickens, and we had leftover chicken with gravy, sweet potato sauce, and a Caesar salad, on our balcony, with its lovely sunset.

I had a couple of nice phone calls with friends, and we settled in to watch Anthony Bourdain at 9:00 pm.  He’s my kind of tourist, all about food.  By 11:00 pm, we were in bed for sleeping purposes, but I smelled smoke.  It was coming from outside.  I called the concierge and she told me not to worry, the fire department was on its way.  The fire was at some little distance.  What she didn’t know was how big it was. I had no sooner turned off the light when a text from Susan came in, to the effect that Silverado was being evacuated.  So, I turned on the TV and found ABC was covering the story.  There was also a fire in Calistoga, which is at our level in the Napa Valley.

Next thing I heard was there was another fire at Mark West Springs and Riebli Rd.  Now, that’s close, not more than 5 miles.  The fires were big and the winds were strong, gusting to 55mph in Santa Rosa.  I decided to take no chances, as evacuating Elvon was going to be a serious project.  I ran down to our locker and grabbed an overnight bag, and Sylly P’s carrier and traveling gear.  Then I called Pat Gustafson, to tell her we were leaving, and did she want to come.  She called her son Matt, who coordinates the CalFire in this neck of the woods.  She got his wife, Cindy, who invited us all to their place in Windsor for the night.  It was serious, all right.

Pat, Mike Desky, Elvon and Helen mustered and were ready to go, in three cars, in about ten minutes.  The Lodge had just decided, or had been told, to evacuate, and people were going door to door, rousting the residents.  We were none too quick, either.  Just after we started north on 101, we saw the flames, and they were close.  We drove through a lot of smoke, with flames on the right shoulder. You could barely see, but it was, thankfully, a small area.

By the time we got to Windsor, I had figured out that I wasn’t going to risk taking Elvon into a private home, with the possibility of another evacuation looming.  I got back on 101, with a plan to drive until I couldn’t smell smoke any more, and then some.  When we got close to Ukiah, about 60 miles up the road, it was smelling bad again, and you could see flames ahead, and, about 5 miles further up, the road was closed.  I told the nice flag man my story and asked about options and he sent me to the coast to pick up US 1 north.

On the way there, I decided to go south to Mendocino to hole up.  It’s a quaint little town, but it doesn’t have much in the way of basic, flat, and accessible rooms.  The Mendocino Inn was charming, and Mitch was very helpful, considering it was after 5:00 AM, but his accessible room was located up a long winding path that I couldn’t see myself dealing with.  He suggested Fort Bragg, which is flatter and has chain hotels.  So here we are at the Holiday Inn Express, where the seals were waking up and barking, as we got out of the car.  Elvon didn’t want to stay there, but it was after 6:00 by now, and I had driven all night on no sleep.  Breakfast was open, so I got us some cinnamon rolls and tea, and we had a little snack, while we watched the fires on all three networks.

Napa, and particularly Silverado, is a full-blown disaster and so is Santa Rosa.  Fountaingrove Lodge was still standing at 10:00 am, when I turned off the TV, and its occupants were in the New Vintage Church, in downtown Santa Rosa.  They may have to move again.  I’ll find out when I turn the TV back on, which will be right after I send this.  We’re well, albeit tired, and relatively safe, although there is another fire in Willits, 35 miles north-east of here.  I hope we don’t have to move again.  Here the air is relatively clean, with the ocean is across the street.  It’s the roads that are iffy.  I grieve for Napa.  I saw Sallyann and Peter Berendsen’s house burn down on television.  They won’t be the only ones.  Our hearts go out to all of you.  We are so sorry.

Tuesday, September 5, 2017

This is what the new reality looks like:  I empty, rinse, dry and replace the chamber pot, fifteen to twenty times a day.  I usually find it on top of my grandmother’s 1880s, or earlier, gallery table, where it is ruining the finish.  That’s getting a little better, though, as I have taken to leaving a facecloth there, to catch drips, and he puts the pot down on it, most of the time.  Sometimes, when the pot is clean, he adds water for Sylly P to drink.   I don’t want it to be full of water when he needs it, so I empty it when I find water in it, too. I cannot convince Elvon that I keep Sylly P amply supplied with water, and his trying to give her some makes me work two ways, getting it out of the chamber pot and replenishing his supply.

When he needs to get into the wheelchair, it can take one minute to ten minutes, to me ringing for help.  It depends whether or not he remembers how.  A lot of the time, he just tries to haul himself up with his arms, ignoring the fact that he has a perfectly good right leg to stand on.  When I explain the procedure, sometimes he gets it, sometimes not.  I test all the maneuvers, using only my bad leg to stand on, and they are all easy.  He is still physically strong and functional.  He just doesn’t know it.  Any wonder I get depressed at times.

A shower takes about an hour and a half.  I have described it before.  Into the wheelchair, on to the pot, off the pot and back into the wheelchair, brush teeth and shave in the wheelchair, while I get clean, into the shower, hang on to the bar while I do all the hosing down, sudsing, scrubbing, and rinsing, back into the chair, on to the towel on the bed, ears, armpits, crotch, bruise cream, pedicure, dressing.  It takes a good two hours.

I keep disposable padding under the bottom sheet and towels on it, and I still have to change it most days.  Something ugly and/or smelly always happens.  Eating is easy, and so is going to the gym, because I am doing all the pushing now.

When I was bemoaning the fact that I didn’t have time to take Bridge lessons on Wednesdays at Varenna, Ted Johnson said, “You have the same 24 hours everyone else has.”  But, I don’t.  Elvon gets at least four of them, sleep gets eight, after my travel agency business, housekeeping and personal administration, there’s precious little left.

I wrote that on Tuesday, September 5, and just came back on Sunday, September 17.

The week went on, pretty much normal.  We had an appointment with our Internist on Thursday and it went well.  They have a transfer wheelchair, and, despite the fact that it was twice as wide as Elvon, all went well, and we have the doctor’s certificate necessary to claim on our insurance for coming home early.

Sunday, September 10

This is weird, but I got a call from Cathy, the Physical Therapist, who had been found by Marissa, our Nurse.  She wanted to come that very afternoon, so I let her.  She was wonderful.  She stayed two and a half hours.  By the time she left, she had the best handle on him that any PT has ever got.  She had him up in the walker, and out in the hall, she tested this and that, exercised him to his limits, and she noticed a lot.  When he is tired, which she made sure of, the game changes.  It’s as if his brain loses communication with his right knee, which explains what I wrote a few days ago.  She wants a second neurological opinion, to see if there is another disease at work, Parkinson’s, for example.  It might be a treatable one.  Our first Neurologist gave up on Elvon about a year ago.  She said there was nothing more to do.  Cathy didn’t accept that.  Good for her.

Monday, September 11, 2017

I met with Marissa, our nurse, on Sunday, too.  We agreed on her care givers coming to shower Elvon for me, to take some of the burden off.  All that did was keep me up all night, the night before, worrying about the procedure and wondering what was the point.  I woke up exhausted and would rather have slept in, than have to get up and deal with someone coming to help Elvon.  I had to teach the procedure, too.

We got showered, had breakfast, and got help with the Lodge’s transport chair, which we needed for our Eye Doctor appointments in Napa. It was a beautiful drive and we arrived relaxed, fifteen minutes early.  We settled into the waiting room, at the Eye Care Center, to wait to be called.  Five minutes to time, Elvon shared that he needed to pee like a racehorse.  I told him to just go in his Depends.  He refused, so I took him to the washroom.  My doc came out for me as we were getting in there.  I had to wave her off.  Then Elvon couldn’t get out of the wheelchair.  Eventually of the docs came in to help him, and it was very hard.  By the time we got him on to the pot, most of it was in the Depend, anyway.  I stripped one pant leg off and changed it.  By the time we were ready for our appointments, we were 45 minutes late.  It’s pretty stressful.

By the time we got out of our one o’clock appointments, it was three and about 100 degrees outside.  This is significant, because Elvon couldn’t get out of the transport wheelchair and into the car, and I cannot lift him.  The arms on the transport chair are too high and he can’t get enough purchase.  By this time, he wasn’t using any leg for anything.  I called 911 and three Napa firefighters, in a nice red fire truck, came and loaded him into the car for me.  Road work in Sonoma added another half-hour to the journey and we just managed to get home in time to clean up for dinner.

That, of course, involved another Depends change and then he couldn’t get off our own toilet.  Yes, we have bars, so did the Eye Doctor.  I was in luck.  Our dinner partners were John and Jon Soderstrom.  John lives across the hall.l  Jon, his son, is an RN, and was able to get him into the chair and ready for dinner, which was a lot of fun and just what we needed.

Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Shoot me the next time I book three doctor’s appointments in the same week, but life was different when I booked them.  Tuesday’s was 11:15 am at St. Helena hospital, pacemaker check for Elvon.  They have good wheelchairs in hospitals, so no worries about the transport chair, for once.  We had Atkins’ shakes for breakfast, on the way over the mountain and got there in plenty of time.  That visit went well, so did the next day, and a delightful dinner with new inmates Bob and Carole Nicholas.

Thursday, September 14, 2017

The day started on a high for me, when I managed to score business class tickets to Madrid, for my Scenic cruisers, going to Bordeaux.  They deserved them.  They were hit by Irma, and they had not only their own problems, but those of 40 absentee owners.  I was in very good humor when I woke Elvon up for his shower.  Our appointment wasn’t until two, so we had plenty of time.  Marissa, herself, was in to watch the showering procedure.  After Cathy’s evaluation, I feel safer doing it myself again, and that’s what we agreed to do.  I can call for support, by pushing the button, if I need it.

We left at 12:30 pm, and arrived in plenty of time.  Elvon transferred easily to the transport chair and we were up in Dr. Duncan’s office early.  Dr Duncan is our dermatologist.  This was our annual full body scan appointment.  When we got our little room, Elvon couldn’t get out of the transport chair, so we decided to just leave him there and cover him with a drape.  Jenny and I got him undressed, and I was stripped to the waist when, you guessed it, he needed to pee like a racehorse.  I told him to just go in his Depends.  He refused, again.  I stuck my nose out of the room and asked the receptionist to find him a urinal, or something.  When I got back into the room, he had his Willy out and it looked like a little fountain.  I grabbed a rubber glove and got it over Willy.  The fingers filled, one by one.  I tied the wrist in a knot.   I should have taken a picture, but it got pretty crazy, just about then.  In came Jenny, the aide, and Liz, our Nurse Practitioner.  They had just called the fire department.  Could we not smell the smoke?

We could.  I dressed in a flash, and the three of us wrestled poor Elvon back into his clothes and out the door.  By this time, the power was off in the office, but still on in the hall, and to the elevator.  Of course, we were afraid to take it, until the firemen got there.  It’s a volunteer fire department in St. Helena and we are in the middle of crush, the busiest season in wine country.  They were there within 15 minutes, though, and set to finding the fire.  It was in Dr. Duncan’s air conditioning unit, on the office roof.  The A/C unit was a goner, but they quickly isolated it, and pronounced the elevator safe to use.  Once again, Elvon was helped into the car, by the fire department.  Bless his heart, he’s a trooper.  He still wanted his Model Bakery peanut butter cookie.  We always have one when we go through St. Helena.  It was yummy, and the ride home was beautiful.

By the time we got home, I didn’t feel like doing any work, and we had some nice foie gras left over from the Women’s Technical Wine Group party last Saturday.  I called Ben Miller and Tom Slade, our dinner partners, and invited them to our balcony for foie.  It was delightful, and so are they.  We laughed a lot and it was very good for us.

Friday. September 15, 2015

Wouldn’t you know it?  Friday was a party day at the Lodge.  Ulla and John Brown and Pati and Don Simon came over for it.  Elvon and I were late for the party, due to more peeing and changing, with which I’ll not bore you, as this is long enough and pissy enough, as it is.  I finally got smart and pushed the button.  A care giver arrived and I went to the party.  She delivered Elvon ten minutes later and all’s well. We had a great after party, too.  Now, I just have a lot of slacks to iron.

It’s now less that two weeks until we walk to support Canine Companions for Independence.  If you have an extra tenner or so, that Harvey or Irma didn’t get, check out my page at http://support.cci.org/site/TR/DogFest/General?px=1149237&pg=personal&fr_id=1470  

Friday, September 1, 2017

I got another eight hours of sleep and didn’t wake up refreshed.  I had to take an Aleve to get any sleep at all.  Arthritis has kicked in nicely, in both knees and hips, and it’s hard to find a comfortable position.  Elvon woke up complaining of dizziness, so I made him drink a bottle of water and raised the head of the bed, so he could watch TV and get a change of ideas.  I suspect he might be wondering if life is worth living anymore.  Morning dizziness is either a sign of dehydration or depression.  I know I have a touch of the latter.  I am mourning a life-style that is changing for the worse, for both of us.  The wheelchair is likely a permanent fixture, and the transfers to and from it are very difficult for him, me, and the care givers, who often get called in.  Physical therapy has been ordered and we should have it soon.  There are a lot of supportive people here to keep me going, but it’s still exhausting.  To compound it all, a very, very good friend is dying.  On this depressing note, I will leave you and get on with my day.

I am keeping this blog going because writing is therapeutic for me, and it may be of some use to some of you at some point.

I met Leona Biddle and her friend Jane, from Varenna, at The Breakfast Club, when I went to forage.  They had sympathetic ears and good advice.  Penny Mihaly is good to talk to, because she is a great person, and is going through the same thing, without the post-polio component.  They will be going on what will probably be Mike’s last big trip in a week or so, Budapest, Turkey, Spain.  We are good for each other.  Lexie Proietti and Sue Pierce offered good ears, should I need them.  Lexie is very spiritual and Sue, very experienced, in care-giving, both good resources.

Daughters Cathryn and Susan both called in.  They understand the situation and are very supportive.  Cathryn saw a lot of signs during our dinner at Bonaparte.  When we left she said “I don’t think he knew me.”  So, I asked him as soon as we got in the car.  Who was that we just had dinner with?”  And he answered “Cathryn.”  “And who is Cathryn?”  “My daughter.”  Cat wasn’t all that impressed, as she had told him about six times during dinner.  She thinks he may be trying to check out of life, and she may be right.  We’ll see our doctor next week and see what he thinks.  This is very hard on all of us.  Both daughters think I should put him on the list for “The Terraces”, our Memory care unit.  I will do that next week, as there is a long waiting list.  By the time his name comes up, it may really be time.

We did get to the gym, and Elvon had PT from Natalie.  The recumbent bike was in use, and he refused to get on the arm machine, so she took him back to bed.  When I was done exercising, Geri Novak was waiting for a massage.  Geri is another good ear, having gone through this same thing with her late husband.  The massage looked like a good idea and Jeff Rooney, our massage therapist, was free at 4:00 pm, so I booked myself in.  Both my hips and knees are giving trouble these days, likely from pushing the wheelchair.  Elvon still weights 180 pounds, and I think he is putting on weight.  Barb Christensen, joined Geri and me and offered her ear, too.  She’s our youngest inmate, a stroke victim.  She has been improving since she got here and is very sweet.  Jim Kavanaugh reminded me to take care of myself. His care-giving activities caused him to have a stroke.  Ed Gristing’s gave him a heart attack.  I get it.

Pat Gustafson, bless her heart, has arranged dinner for us with Mike Desky and Pat Finot.  Pati Simon called in to tell me to have Elvon drink plenty of water, and that Bill Potter had died.  When the doctors tell you it’s time, they are usually right.  Bill fought valiantly to the end.  A nicer, more positive man would be hard to find.  We loved him dearly and he will be sorely missed.  I am so glad I was able to get Elvon over to Napa a month ago, for lunch with the Potters at Celadon.  It makes a nice memory.

The lights in the Lodge went out during my massage.  Jeff finished with what the generator provided.  I went back and mustered Elvon, as we were due at Pat’s at 5:30 pm.  The power seemed to be back on.  I wheeled him down to the third elevator, as she lives at the other end of the building from us.  Nope, no elevator service.  None of them were working.  As I passed the lobby, on the way back, the fire doors clanged shut, too.  We were out again, all right.  It had been going on and off for a while.  I called Pat and asked her to please bring the party to our place, as we would probably have to get take-out and eat it there.  Elvon was never going to climb the stairs to the Dining Room.  It was just Pat and Mike, so far, as Pat Finot, who lives in a bungalow on the property, could not get her car out of the garage.

Jim Kavanaugh was in the lobby, too, and I realized he wouldn’t be able to get up to dinner, either, so I invited him back with us.  He was more than happy to come.  When everyone was settled with a drink in their hands, Pat and I went upstairs to see about dinner.  There was only one entrée and that was a strip steak, which was more like a pot roast.  No blue or well done, everybody gets medium rare.  We added a calabrese salad, and apple pie for dessert, and made it for five.  Pat Finot had made it up to the Dining Room, when a power spurt had let her open her garage door.  She never went to Pat G’s house to see the note on her door, saying to come to our place.  Too late now, her dinner was on the way.

Pat G and I went back, drank a little more wine, with cheese and crackers from her place, and the few Gascogne cheese cookies that we hadn’t consumed on the plane.  When we got the dinner is ready call, Mike and I went upstairs to fetch.  It turned out to be just fine and we had a great time.

Saturday, September 2, 2017

I am getting a lot of sleep, and am still not awakening refreshed, but I did get up at 8:30 am to go forage for breakfast.  It was a shower day, so I let Elvon sleep in, while I cleared some email, and called Chase about United’s pending charges.  It looked like they were trying to get the extra $591 to fly coach, out of our hide, twice.  What bandits.  Chase said to wait and see if they actually took it, and if they did, they would be happy to reverse it and dispute it with United. Then I dealt with August 29^th’s email and took a welcome sympathetic call from Pat Harrold in Vancouver.

By this time, I figured I had to face getting Elvon into the shower.  I wheeled the chair into the bed room, got him to get into it, and got him as far as the pot.  While he was on that, I made the bed, brushed the cat and put down a nice thick towel where he would next land.  Then I went back, got him off the pot and back into the chair, which I wheeled over to the sink.  I presented him with toothbrush, tooth paste, a glass of water, a razor and shaving soap, and he went to work.  I stripped, got into the shower and had a nice one.  I dried myself off, and wheeled Elvon into the shower, where he grabbed one of the bars and pulled himself up, so I could get him nice and clean.  Then I wheeled him back to the towel on the bed, and ministered to him, including a nice pedicure, and the application of coconut oil to the chafe he got flying home on one Depend.  The coconut oil fixed the problem in 3 days, and made it feel good while it was healing.  Good stuff, that. (Might be TMI, that, but I thought you might have a use for the information some day.)

By the time we had had breakfast, it was one o’clock, time for the gym.  He wouldn’t go.  He was just too tired.  The way he said it, he was too tired of life.  It didn’t make me feel any better.  I was exhausted myself.  This is all very draining.  I wheeled him back to bed and did a couple more days of email.  About three quarters of an hour later, I announced that I was going to the gym, and did he want to come?  He did.  So, we went, and he spent about 20 minutes on the recumbent bicycle, before he had to go to the bathroom, where we needed some help getting him off.

Back in the apartment, I continued writing this blog.  As I wrote, I started feeling better and better, and credited the blogging process.  But I am not so sure, because around 5:00 pm, I heard moving noises coming from the other room.  I got up to see and there he was, walking towards me, in Winnie Walker.  I think he was getting hungry and forgot he couldn’t walk.  I was delighted.  It wasn’t time for dinner, but I had him shave again, as he doesn’t do as good a job sitting down.  Then he got a half-hour rest and we went to dinner with Pat and Ted Johnson. Poor Ted, Pat had promised him I was depressed and would be subdued, and there I was, positively manic with glee.   Dinner was delicious, home-made guacamole and chips to start, shrimp and lemon cream risotto, and I had chocolate ice cream for dessert, because I like it better than lemon gelato.

Sunday, September 3, 2017

This is brunch day, so I went and got some fruit and orange juice, and took some breakfast meats out of the freezer.  The eggs, were laid yesterday and the day before.  They made fabulous French toast, with bacon, sausage and maple syrup.  I took care of the business of getting back the Holiday Inn points for part of the stay that we had missed, and got back to work on this.  Around one, the doorbell rang and it was Marissa Goldman, the Lodge Nurse.  She had figured out how to charge me for lift assists, etc., and wanted to explain it to me.  I was delighted with the price and readily agreed.  I am still going to get Elvon on to the wait list for memory care, but this gives us a good amount of breathing space, especially as he is getting better.  While we were talking, Elvon got back up on Winnie Walker, and got himself on to the toilet by himself, another first in five days.  If you don’t hear from me for a while, please take it as good news.  I’ll be taking care of business, with my renewed energy.   I’ll write again, when I need the therapy.

PS:  I’ll also write soon to tell you about Santa Rosa Dogfest and invite you to join me.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Air Canada’s wheelchair teams took very good care of us at SFO and Eric Hartman, our totally reliable driver and very interesting person, was there to meet us at the airport soon after landing.  The traffic was light at 10:00 pm and we were home soon after 11:00 pm.  Daniel, the night concierge, a member of the care giving team, was there with Elvon’s own wheelchair.  Between him and Eric, they got Elvon in, to the bathroom, and into his nightshirt.  He was asleep before I finished feeding Sylly P.

I was exhausted, I went to bed, too, but somehow it was 1:30 am.  I got up around 8:30 am, feeling refreshed, but that didn’t last long.  I went to the dining room and foraged for breakfast, which I brought back to the room, like ‘most every day here at Fountaingrove Lodge.  Michelle, one of the care givers, came to help me get Elvon up.  We couldn’t get him to hoist himself off the bed.  She said she’d come back with reinforcements later.  After she had left, I got smart and taught him how to use the bedside table to support himself, while I brought the wheelchair in behind him.  It’s a good wheelchair, the foot rests come off easily for getting it into tight corners like this.  It’s a good bedside table, too.  It was my grandmother Megan’s wedding present from her husband.  People were practical in the 1890s.

I wheeled him to the breakfast table and we both got to eat.  We were pretty hungry.  After he had eaten, and while he was still in the wheelchair, he agreed to attempt a shower.  This was a very good thing, as he was getting pretty high.  I wheeled him into the bathroom.  He got to sit and watch while I took my shower, then he was able to stand clutching one of the bars, while I hosed him down, sudsed him up, and rinsed him off.  Help, in the form of Manny and Shane, arrived just as we were finishing up.  I was exhausted, so they got him transferred to the bed and dressed, which was a big help.

While they were dressing him, I did a little unpacking, got the last Montreal blog out, and made a couple of essential phone calls, our evacuation insurance and a doctor’s appointment, which will be necessary or they won’t pay for anything at all.  When they were done, they suggested I take him to Wine Wednesday, which would be good for us.  It was, we re-connected with our Lodge buddies, had a couple of laughs, and a nice dinner with Bill Blair and John Kennedy.  It was corn and crab chowder, and a seafood linguini, which included lobster, clams, mussels, squid, etc. in a delicious white wine sauce.   We were in bed by nine, still pretty tired, but very well fed.

Thursday, August 31, 2017

I got up around 7:30 am and did the usual food run.  When I got back, Elvon got up into the wheelchair and let me wheel him to the toilet for a much needed constitutional, as he had skipped that yesterday.  When he was done, he couldn’t get up, so I called for a caregiver and Ashley came.  We got him on to the bed and I decided to take it from there myself, as he needed a little rest before dressing.  We discussed his physical therapy strategy and I let her go promising to wheel him to the gym at 1:00 pm.

He brushed his teeth at the breakfast table, ate and then shaved, all in the chair. By this time it was 11:30 am, so he decided to stay in the chair, rather than go through two transfers for a one hour nap.  The news lately is all about hurricane Harvey.  There are so many people so much worse off than we are, that I am able to count my blessings, still.  The big blessing is that we are settled into this fabulous place, with friends, gourmet food and lots of help.

By the time we got to the gym, I was exhausted again, but I did my 10 minutes of treadmill, and an almost full set of core strengthening exercises.  When we got back, I spent 20 minutes at my level, which was very refreshing, and continued with the laundry and unpacking that had been filling odd minutes all day.

We ate in, because I had fresh eggs from our Lodge hens, and fresh tomatoes from someone’s garden, all kindly left in our Bistro.  We started with a calabrese salad, minus the cheese and basil.  The main course was a cheese and fried onion omelet, with two eggs from each of yesterday and today.  It doesn’t get any better than that, unless you add a side of bacon, which I did.

After dinner I wheeled Elvon back to the bedroom, where he couldn’t wrap either his mind or his body around the concept of transferring to the bed.  I had to call for help from Manny.

Friday, September 1, 2017

I got another eight hours of sleep and didn’t wake up refreshed.  I had to take an Aleve to get any sleep at all.  Arthritis has kicked in nicely, in both knees and hips, and it’s hard to find a comfortable position.  Elvon woke up complaining of dizziness, so I made him drink a bottle of water and raised the head of the bed, so he could watch TV and get a change of ideas.  I suspect he might be wondering if life is worth living anymore.  Morning dizziness is either a sign of dehydration or depression.  I know I have a touch of the latter.  I am mourning a life-style that is changing for the worse, for both of us.  The wheelchair is likely permanent, and the transfers to and from it are very difficult for him, me, and the care givers, who often get called in.  Physical therapy has been ordered and we should have it soon.  There are a lot of supportive people here to keep me going, but it’s still exhausting.  To compound it all, a very, very good friend is dying.  On this depressing note, I will leave you and get on with my day.

I am keeping this blog going because writing is therapeutic for me, and it may be of some use to some of you at some point.

Sunday, August 27, 2017

After breakfast, I did a load of washing and ironing and wrote that last blog, not in that order.  Elvon is a concern, as he has embraced the wheelchair and urinal.  I put a fair bit of juice into trying to turn that around, too.  We were having our “crew dinner” at Kathie and Peter’s place.  They just moved into The Cavendish, a month ago.  It’s on the West Island, where they have been living for over 25 years.  It has all the amenities we enjoy at Fountaingrove Lodge, but is much, much bigger, and doesn’t have Chef Adam, our architecture, nor our view.  Pretty nice, though and easy living. It was able to provide a wheelchair for Elvon, thus saving me the trouble of finding someone on each end to get the one I rented in and out of the car.

Their apartment is about the same size as ours, with a balcony and a view over the swimming pool, which will be a snow field in January.  We had wine and hors d’oeuvres, with our hosts and Theresa Benedek and Terri Azzaria.  We don’t always get to see Terri, and she is a real kick.  If you think I am no nonsense, you haven’t met Terri.  We remembered our time at the Royal St. Lawrence Yacht Club, and on our sailing trips.  Just scattered memories, nothing maudlin.  We talked a lot about our new lives.  Theresa is in assisted living, too.  It’s a good place to end up.  It’s the ending up, we mind.

At 6:30 pm, we set off for dinner, and we were late, because it was at least three buildings over.  Elvon would never have got there without the wheelchair.  It took all my small change to push it there, as there was a pretty long up slope between two of the buildings.  It’s all inside and carpeted, of course, just far.  Brunch is the big meal on Sunday, so we didn’t get much choice at dinner.  The potage parmentier, salmon with dill sauce, and dessert were acceptable, though, and I slept like a baby after that meal.

We went back to Kathie and Peter’s for more conversation and I played Elvon’s 80^th birthday slide show.  There were scenes to remember in it, too.  That slide show is still not complete.  I have another twenty albums or so to go through.  Some of our conversation leaned to the scatological, and Theresa, who has heard it all before, wanted to know where our “broughtupsi” was.  Asked for the origin of the world, she admitted it was from her Jamaican childhood.  I wonder why she never used it before.  It’s not like we had broughtupsi thirty years ago, either.

Monday morning, Elvon got to the bathroom on Winnie, which was a very good thing.  I didn’t see taking him out to dinner, though.  He’s still shaky, and not every place is an assisted living place.  Our dinner dates were Chris and Marge Mapp, and Jo-Ann.  I called Chris and volunteered to buy whatever take-out we would agree on, if they would pick it up.  They knew a great Indian place, near them, Shahi Palace.  I called it and ordered: 4 meat samosas, daal makani, two orders of shrimp masala, lamb balti, butter chicken, alou goabi, rice and lots of naan.  They didn’t have mango chutney, so Jo-Ann picked that up for me, along with 4 pastries from la Gascogne.  We washed that lot down with two bottles of white and a bottle of red.  I woke up around 2:20 am and never got back to sleep, for processing.  It was well worth it, though.  I go back more than 50 years with these dear friends.

Tuesday morning, Elvon wouldn’t get out of bed and transfer to Winnie.  After reasoning with him, begging and pleading, I threatened him with calling for help.  He let me do it.  I got two big burley guys from the hotel and even they could not get him to transfer to walker or wheelchair.  He wasn’t just dead weight, he was fighting us.  There’s not a lot of fight in me after three hours sleep and five hours of processing.  I decided to give up and get him back home, where he can exercise properly and get his strength and confidence back.  I got him off the bed by feeding him breakfast and then having him use the breakfast table as the transfer vehicle.  I bathed him on the toilet with its raised seat, and had him dress there, too.  That worked pretty well, and he could get into the wheelchair in the bath room, with its grab bars.

I went online to United to change our $3252 business class tickets.  To get business today would have been over $5200 for the two of us, one way, yet.  The $3252 had been for return.  I had authorization from our evacuation insurance for the change fee, but it was just a small portion of that total.  I put us in economy for an extra $591, which they will cover, and planned to throw myself on the mercy of Air Canada.  Jo-Ann, bless her heart, came over to help me pack and return the car and the wheel chair.  That’s a real friend.  We made it to the airport with the requisite three hours to spare and they weren’t busy.  I got a lot of sympathy, but no free upgrades.  The price of the upgrades was down to $2076 Canadian, though.  So, I called SkyMed to see if they would fund that.  They would not, and I still didn’t think it was worth it.  The nice Air Canada agent got us into the Maple Leaf Lounge, though, and the nice agent there got us great seats across the aisle from each other.  The middle seat on my side is empty and my seatmate is Zack Darling, who lives near us in Santa Rosa, and is positively delightful.  I am signing off to share the rest of our Gascogne goodies with him and Elvon.

Zack was trying for an upgrade to Business but now thinks he landed in First.  Our food is so much better than we got in Business on the way.  Photo credits to Zack. Here we are: