Another week ends

Thursday night I attended the “going away” party at “Toronto Hospice for Tracy. I ran in to Pete at the party and he is VERY happy in his new job. Way to go Pete!

Tracy has already found a new job and she gave me her phone number and asked me to call her and have coffee with her. I am looking forward to it.

On Friday I had another good chat with the Sister in-law that made me look at the events of my last post more calmly. I was on verge of deleting the post, because it sounds an awful lot like “why me”.

Its not.

Its about “here is this silly thing I do and how the fuck can I stop doing it”

If any one knows where the “off” button is for my emotions, kindly direct me to it.

-Then again, recently friends of mine have been contemplating an individual in there midst whom they are quite convinced is a sociopath. If you look up “profile of a sociopath” on of the two key identifiers are “a lack of remorse shame or guilt” and “callousness and lack of empathy”.

I suppose finding the “Off” button is not such a good plan. Perhaps volume control? Arrrg..

In Friday afternoon I met Anneke (pronounced ah-na-ka) to give her the second disk of photos I had shot and discuss a plan for he album cover. She seems very happy with the work that I have done. Out of over 135 photos that I shot she only gave me a list of 9 that she did not like.

Not too shabby.

After my meeting with Anneke, Hubby and I had a late lunch at “Spring Rolls”. Not a bad place but they are doomed by the fact they they have taken over the same location as the cursed Lime Ricky’s, Frans, and Hooters. No business lasts for more than a year in that location.

Good luck spring rolls.

On our way out of the restaurant we ran in to Kim and Rick and were joined shortly by Dan and Kristy. It was really nice seeing them all, its been quite a while. Rick is delighted to be newly unemployed. Rick and Kim are shortly to take possession of there new home. It sounds like they have a huge amount of work to do in the new location but I bet its going to be amazing when they are done.

After late lunch and chance Yaswinski sightings Hubby and I went to the EX. We don’t do the rides at the EX but very much enjoy the atmosphere and the junk food. At one point we were sitting in an out door patio not far from the midway eating corn on the cob and quaffing over priced beers while listening to an eighties hair band shrieking in the back ground. We grinned at each other - It seemed to us to be the quintessential “EX” experience.

The junk food tally for the day is as follows.

½ rack rib plate (shared with hubby)
1 pickle
1 beer
1 corn on the cob
1 ice cream in a stick
1 bite of hubby’s October fest sausage.
1 hand full of almond beer nuts.

Apparently binge eating agrees with me as I am down to 169 pounds today.

Go figure.

Logic VS: Reptilian Brain

I wonder if I am the only one who suffers from this malady.

I can look at an event in my life and understand logically that it should have no emotional impact on me. But despite all my reasoning there is a non-logical deeply emotional piece of my head that tortures me over these small stupid things.

Last weekend I found out that xxxx and xxxxxx are angry at me for yet another perceived slight. The perceived slight was not intended, and was somewhat unavoidable. I should not let this information bother me. These people have been coming up with all sorts of reasons to be unhappy with me. At this point I really should not give a crap.

Why why why do I feel so horrible.
It’s not guilt over what happened, it’s that xxxx and xxxxxx don’t like me. Why should I care? Why?

Week End

Running is going well. Did a 5.6 mile jaunt with the hubby on Thursday and it felt great. Went for a nice long bike ride on Saturday (With same said Hubby). Started at the top of the beltline trail, went through Mt pleasant cemetery, down the moor park ravine and into the Don Valley Brick works. It was there that we encountered the first of the damage done by last Fridays storm. A Sea of mud stretched under the canopy of the brick works. We found out that the base of the bayveiw extension was closed because of the flooding and so we nipped up the extension to get to the Don Valley trail. More damage there, Seas of mud and small lakes across the trail to peddle though, bridges that had debris strewn across them from the water rising so high.

Frightening how powerful nature can be. We ran into my sister in law on the trail and went to St. Lawrence Market for lunch – which was a grand idea, as Hubby and I were so covered in mud and sweat that no civilized restaurant would have us. Had a long overdue chat with sister in-law, that was good for clearing up the air.

A nice day at the Renaissance Fair on Sunday.

NO WHINING.

I am sitting in my office at home tying to put into words what I am feeling at the moment. Frustration, perhaps above all.

A week ago Friday I got news that the volunteer coordinator from Toronto Hospice had left her job. I am truly sorry to see Tracy go. She is a kind and sweet lady and she was trying very hard to help me get some worth while experience. I recognized that Tracy leaving was an opportunity I could not ignore and so I left a message with DM the Executive Director of Toronto Hospice.

DM and I spoke a week ago Monday and she told me she was delighted with my work as a volunteer and with all the help I have been providing at the office. She told me that because the volunteer coordinator position had been turned over quickly twice in a row she (and the staff) felt strongly that they were concerned the volunteers were not left with a sense of insecurity. They wanted the next person to fill the role to be a graduate of a program and/or to have experience volunteer management in a hospice environment.

In other words, I was not going to be considered for the job.

I can’t fault DM for her logic regarding the posting. She is being a responsible Executive Director.

We spoke about how the environment of Hospice care has changed from a grass-roots at-home kind of thing to a more “professional” environment. Toronto Hospice is a far step away from the sixty friends who got together to help Margaret Frazer die at home in 1984.

I understand the need for professionalism and standards of care, but I can’t help but wonder when people like me, eager, willing to learn, ethical, passionate and compassionate are squeezed out over cookie cutter graduates if that is a good thing.

Adding to my foul mood was my night with Mrs K.

She can’t speak and has taken to “mouthing” at her care givers and expecting us to lip read to understand her. She is impatient and irritable when we do not understand her. We have a letter board that we use to try and communicate with her but she frequently refuses to use it. Last night she was talking to me about a bunch of really important stuff. I could not understand a word she was mouthing and she kept getting irritated at me for not understanding. Finally I cracked and started to cry. I had to walk out of the room to compose my self.

I am a sobbing wreck as I re-read passages from “Menya and end of life story” When Menya consented to go in to the palliative care ward at St Michaels hospital it seemed that her dieing process became so much more peaceful. In the final days of her life there is so much grace and love it makes me weep every time I read it. Being on Mrs K’s care team is much different. Every shift with Mrs K is a struggle. She fights her nurses, her care team, the inevitability of her death. I want to be understanding, respectful of her choice, even though it is one I would never make.

At one point during our conversation last night Mrs K said she wanted to go home. “you want to go home?” I repeated back at her. “What would you say?” she snapped/mouthed at me.

“About what?” I asked

“This. Everything.” She said.

I told her would have nothing to say as I would not have allowed my self to be in her position. If I had ALS I would have refused a respirator. She seemed to consider this briefly and told me that she “never agreed” to the respirator. I know that’s not true. But its interesting that she might be changing her mind.

I am looking over what I have just written and I am feeling much less melancholy than I was when I started. It has been a lousy couple of days.

But: NO WHINING. NO “WHY ME?”

If Toronto Hospice wants a certificate I’ll go out and get one. I’ll sign up for the “fundamentals of Volunteer management” course that Humber college is offering.

And now I will head out to the gym and run the rest of my ill humour into submission.