Tossing Salt Presents:
A (Bad)Day of Dougie
Stormie,Plus Life Updates
DougMaynard.com
Doug Maynard

I wouldn’t say I like this world sometimes. The Rolling Stones have a great song called Mixed Emotions, and damn if it doesn’t fit right now. I want to scream. I want to cry. I’m so ready to say screw it and give up. I can’t do that though. It’s not in me. I guess I’ll sit here and write instead. Maybe that will calm my nerves. I need to do an update for everyone anyhow. So this is a (Bad) Day of Dougie. Let’s do this.

Where to begin? Storm passed away this afternoon. Well, it’s yesterday afternoon now since it’s just after 4 a.m. as I write this. He was 23 years old and old age finally caught up with him. He’d lost a lot of weight and was sleeping most of the day, and while still enjoying his treats and getting in my way at the computer, it was apparent his energy was fading fast. And he came into the kitchen this morning and laid down on the floor by the water dish. He fell asleep and never woke up. I had been checking on him all day and he would purr when I rubbed his head and hold his head up for a few seconds but then lay back down. His eyes were still closed. I went to take a nap and woke up an hour later. He had peed all over the floor, and his body was just starting to get cold. I got a towel, picked him up, and held him for a while as I cried. I didn’t cry this much for my brother or sister. But that damn old man cat?

Mouthie is my baby, but Stormie was my buddy, partner in crime, and favorite nephew. He was the bed-hog who could find the perfect spot to take up an entire queen-sized bed. Or he would lie on the table between me and my computer keyboard and demand attention every time I sat down to write or work. I’m going to miss that old man. The plans for now are to take him up to Wagram, where my two brothers and my sister are buried, and bury him at the foot of Steve’s grave. I’m not sure how well I can dig a hole given my medical situation. Hell, I’m not supposed to be walking if avoidable and wearing a damn Wound Vac. I’ll figure it out though. Stormie deserves to be with his Daddy again.

Okay, I’m pouring out tears right now. These damn allergies. So let me change the subject. How about a medical update? I’m still alive and breathing. That’s a good sign, right? I’m on a Wound Vac right now for my foot to help speed up the healing process for the big chunk of my foot that was removed. It’s annoying, but it seems to be doing its job and the wound is getting smaller. I’m not supposed to walk or be on the foot unless necessary so I’m using the chair and am essentially homebound right now. My toe is causing some problems, but the doctor is optimistic that it’s manageable and won’t require an amputation. Not yet anyhow.

There is a problem with signs of Osteoporosis in the toe plus at the back of my foot. To treat that, I’ll most likely be doing the HBO Chamber Treatment at the Wound Center. HBO stands for Hyperbaric Oxygen treatments. It’s essentially lying in a glass tube like Michael Jackson allegedly did, for an hour a day, five days a week, breathing in 100% pure oxygen. I did this before for an infection in my now-amputated right foot. I think it was like 25 weeks, five days a week, that time. It didn’t work and I ended up having my leg amputated anyhow. And now they want to do it again to save my other foot. We’re waiting for approval from Medicaid, but I’m not sure about this and may decline. I just don’t know anymore. Do I need the extra stress? Why not just let nature take its course and see what happens?

So that’s my medical situation for now. And that’s not even the biggest part of my stressed-out life. Let’s talk about my sister, Terri. She’s moving into a Nursing Home later today (Friday) and she’s going to hate it. But we don’t have a choice. Terri has been living on her own for years, but now, she’s constantly falling, as well as other issues, and it’s gotten to the point where EMS was being called almost every day. Every time the phone rings, more often than not, it’s a notification from the monitoring service that they’ve gotten an alert, and the EMS is en route. She’s calling and complaining, and it gets Mom worked up so she’s a nervous wreck all the time. Mom is 88 years old and Terri has her running around, making demands, and it’s just gotten beyond ridiculous. Terri has always been spoiled, but it’s killing Mom with all the stress, but she doesn’t seem to care. She gets mad because I won’t go visit her, but when we talk, all she does is yell and snap. I can’t deal with it. And she’s killing Mom. I wish I was exaggerating, but I’m not. She’s going to be miserable in the Nursing Home because they won’t treat her like a Diva, and she’ll have to give up her cigarettes and some of her bad habits, but in the big picture of things, it’s the best for all of us.

Mom is so damn stressed out all the time. The only time she seems happy or content is when talking to our neighbor or her sister from Ohio on the phone. Aside from that, she’s snapping at the animals, cursing up a storm, and complaining about how bad people are. I love her, but I try to avoid her more often than not because of how miserable and stressed she always is. I know my situation doesn’t help matters, but I try to be independent and handle things on my own. But the animals, the clutter here from my two siblings who passed away, the mess that neither she nor I are physically able to tackle as we once did, it’s all taking its toll. I’ve heard her talking to herself about wishing she could leave forever or just die and it’s heartbreaking. And every time the phone rings, we both just cringe in trepidation of what we’re going to hear. Is it the hospital? Has Terri fallen? Is it a spam call? And then, they don’t leave a message when the machine picks up. And the cussing starts again.

I need to quit. Mom is a very strong woman and gets around very well for her age. But all the stress, the pressures, are taking their toll and she’s changing. It’s killing her. I’m checking on her every time she gets too quiet in the other room, or doesn’t get up on time, scared to death of what I might find. And all of the stuff with me? It’s wearing me down as well. I’m just lost right now. I’ll be okay. I don’t have a choice. Stormie may have passed, but I have Mouthie and Sparky to look after. And if she’ll let me, Mom too. It’s not going to be easy, but I’ll find a way and manage. I always do.

Anything else? My relationship status is still in limbo, but right now, that’s probably a good thing. I can’t help him if I can’t help myself and right now, I can barely do either. I love the dude, but we’re walking separate paths at the moment. It’s for the best. I could sure as hell use an Uber Hug right now.

And I guess that’s all. I wrote more than I probably should have, but I had to do something. I’m going to bed for an hour or so to try and get some rest. Or cry some more. One or the other. I miss you, Stormie. I miss you, Eric. And I’ll talk to y’all later. Love you. Mean it!

Ubuntu!