Great Good Fortune

When I returned to work in July, it was on a one-year contract. This was the only way I could work part-time. This contact was set to expire June 30.

My manager took a proposal forward to hire me on as a regular (the only part-time option I could hope for) and it didn’t get approved. Sign of the times, no new offers are being made this year, I’m told.

She then tried to get a longer-term contract in place, but it would not allow me to work part time, and there was no budget for it. I figured I would be unemployed again come July.

Yesterday, she called me in to say her up-line managers decided they could extend my contract for four months (pending HR approval). I was perplexed why this was not an option sooner, but I am so grateful for the chance to keep my job while we wait for the economy to pick up again. We’ll be going through the job offer song and dance routine again in August, but for now I know I can finally enroll my daughter in summer camp without worrying about losing the deposit money if we had to cancel the enrollment.

I believe things tend work out for the best. Sometimes I find it’s hard to keep that faith when doors keep closing. I’m happy to have the next six months to see what the future will bring.

As motivated as I was to change blog platforms and revamp the image, I now find myself conversely and wholly uninspired. I hardly know where to start. I had been feeling for a while like I should shed the infertile/pregnancy loss skin, and needed to allow my online self to morph into a new existence. However, what I came up with is basically Mommy Blogger, and that just makes me cringe. Please bear with me as I evolve here, and find a way to be within the Internets that strikes a balance between the past, present and future me.

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Life in chez moi has been pretty dicey this past month. My girl has been hell on wheels. Six “and a half!” years old and already experimenting with full-on screaming, door-slamming tantrums. Oy! Charming Boy has been decidedly two, with “I DO IT!” his eternal catch phrase. Both have had hair-trigger tempers that flare with the slightest provocation. Between that and trying to justify my existence at work so I can get a more permanent job offer come June 30 when my current contact expires, I’ve been left frazzled and completely done in by the evening (my favorite time to blog).

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And if that were not enough, we were very much looking forward to a visit from my Mom this Friday, when Life intervened. Her father passed away suddenly yesterday afternoon. In the big picture it is a blessing, as his wish to not linger was granted quite expediently.

We have this odd karmic death thing going on, as twice before she’s newly arrived for a visit, only to have a major family member suddenly die and she both times needed to return home immediately. This time, the death was before her trip, so at least she is spared the yo-yo effect.

I am so saddened for her, as it was her last living parent and she will no longer be part of the “sandwich generation.” For me, I will miss the grandpa who gave me my red hair and was the last glue holding together the extended family via weekly Sunday lunches. The mantle passes to the next generation.

I have no living grandparents now, only my Mom and aunts and uncles. It makes me want to clutch them close and not let go; life as we know it is so very fleeting.

We are all evolving on many fronts. I will be heading to Wyoming for the funeral this week, and my dear husband will be holding down the fort with the various school pick ups and drop offs, and possibly an entire weekend with them all to himself (I am very grateful and proud of the grace with which he has made my trip back home possible).

I’ve said it before, and no doubt will again: “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.” (Thank you, John Lennon.) May the Universe grant me the enlightenment to continue to boldly plan, yet bow to change when life turns me– and those I love– in other directions.

We have been dealing with a really crappy situation for the last 2 years with my hubby’s grandparents. Both are in their 80s, and until recently were living in their own home. They originally had a pair of caretakers who came in to help change Grandma, get her into her wheelchair, run basic errands, cook meals, refill pill boxes, etc.

Then, Grandpa chose just one of those women to take over the caregiving. She moved into their home, bringing her daughter and infant granddaughter along. That was the first in a series of really unprofessional actions that unravelled their whole lives. It has progressed into a textbook case of elder financial fraud.

Soon after this arrangement began, my sister-in-law discovered $20,000 on credit card statements in recent purchases at places like Victoria’s Secret and jewelry stores. Grandma never wore any of these new jewels, and we had our suspicions that neither was she wearing the lingerie (she relies on Depends for goodness sakes!). The caretaker eventually admitted that she had let things run into excess by buying personal items using their credit cards, but that she was aware of the problem and would not let it happen again. Grandpa had apparently condoned these purchases, because he now thought of these people as his family (which is hilarious, because at any point previous in his life, he never would have simply given money to any actual family member, nor spent so lavishly).

It progressed to the point where the caretaker cleaned out all of their accounts, had powers of attorney in her name, opened accounts at other financial institutions to hide the money flow, and brainwashed Grandpa into believing the family was out to take everything from him and put them into a nursing home.

Sadly, that is now exactly where they have landed. Grandma and Grandpa’s electricity was turned off due to lack of payment. There was a stack of bills on their table of all the utilities and other bills that have remained unpaid for months. There was no money left in any accounts the family knew of, and they had NO money to buy food. The only car they had owned had long ago been traded for two newer (heavily-financed) cars by the caretaker; one was reposessed, the other was “loaned to a friend” by the caretaker, and the caretaker was now gone for days at a time.  We discovered that she was bipolar (off her meds now), and a former addict who was supposedly attending daily meetings.

The state intervened on Grandma’s behalf, and removed her from the home the day the electricity was turned off. After over a year of us trying to get the Adult Protective Services/Elder Abuse unit to take action, it took things devolving to this horrible point before anyone– including state authorities– could do anything. Grandpa is legally allowed to spend their money and hire help as he sees fit until there is clear evidence that he is consistently making endangering choices. The state and even a family physician will not declare someone incompetent until it is rampantly, consistently clear that they are basically an invalid and they are permanently unable to make valid financial decisions. The caretaker made sure she answered questions for Grandpa during his doctor visits, and he learned to always deferred to her.

To this day, Grandpa still defends the caretaker and won’t admit that anything is wrong. From what little we know at this time, she bilked them of their entire life savings (over $500K), and they no longer have any means of supporting themselves. The money is completely GONE. The D.A. in the county can’t/won’t prosecute with all the evidence we have collected now that my mom-in-law has been granted custodianship.

The sad thing is: Grandpa blames the family for removing Grandma from the home, even though we were legally powerless to do anything on their behalf while this situation developed. APS got involved due to the caretaker’s inattention and the no-electricity situation, so they assumed care for her. Grandpa refuses to accept that we were always trying to protect them from the very outcome he so dreaded. Now, the only way we can protect them both from this abuser is to put them somewhere with controlled access that can still meet their physical needs. You guessed it…. a nursing home. Grandma is too weak for home care.

I hope that if you have a family member involved in an outside-your-home elder care situation, you insist on contracting with a licensed, bonded caretaker agency. Quite a hassle and potentially expensive? Perhaps.

I assure you, the financial cost will come nowhere close to the compounded emotional and financial toll a disaster of this magnitude imparts across every generation in a family. It is scary when an elderly person’s mind stops working rationally, and they have already given all control to a person who does not have their best interests at heart. I saw it happen with my Dad, and again with Grandma and Grandpa. Such fraud is one of the most despicable crimes a person can commit to an otherwise trusting, needy, adult individual, and you will find that the law, unfortunately, is NOT on your side should things turn ugly.

I’ve been gone for a while. Originally subdued by the holidays and the sheer bliss and enormity of hosting Christmas for the first time with our families in our own home. Subsequently felled on Jan. 1 by a not-so-fun case of walking pneumonia. Just when I think I’m getting better, I seem to slip back a little. I just have to accept that it will take a while to recover.

So, cough and all, I’m back. Trying to get back into the swing of things. My favorite memory: Charming Boy running to me with wonder in his voice “Mommy!!! Santa came! To MY HOUSE!!!”

I love that the magic finally came alive in our house! Fourteen years of traveling to be family in their homes, and this was our turn. It was wonderful!

I hope 2009 for all of us is filled with the same wonderment and love as our 2008 ended with.

You know you're a couple in the Silicon Valley's New Economy when….

You email your husband a day-by-day "family's coming to visit" holiday prep to-do list, because he's off for two weeks but you can't take any time off (even unpaid) for fear of losing your job. You also just incurred a large vet bill, so you need the money.

You then print the list so you have a copy for the five errands you will run after work on your way home.

And once you get home, you will synch your phone with your email so you will then have the rest of the list electronically.

No, I'm not stressed a bit. Can you tell?

I LOVE Christmas. I feel stressed out because it never seems like there is enough prep time leading up to the actual time spent with family. I want to get more done before people start arriving!

I am grateful every day that our Moosecat is healing very well, and mostly able to run away from the bitchy hissing and growling our kitten is doing due to his reintroduction into the family.

You are right, dear commenters. Our decision was a moral dilemma. I do not want to see anyone suffer in needless pain. I never want to try to hurt or kill any living thing. When these two values intersect, one must override. There is no one clear right answer, and it is the worst kind of situation to be in with power to sway another living creature’s future so totally.

It was especially hard to consider a surgery I would normally think of as a brutal mutilation when forced so drastically upon another’s body. Removing one’s penis to save one’s life should be left to an individual to decide; but this was our pet. In a way, he is most definitely a child to us, and one who relies on us to provide for every aspect of his life.

PUs are not as commonly performed in felines as they once were. There are myriad pharmaceutical approaches to help get a cat to urinate now. Unfortunately, none of these medical interventions worked at all for our Moosecat, and he was at the end of his life unless this surgery worked.

When we walked into the vet’s office yesterday, we were not prepared to see him doing better after a week of decline. It became apparent that this one last surgery was the only possible way to save him, and it was a gamble. There is no way we could have had the PU done if we thought he’d live in pain or have anything but a good quality of life afterward (assuming he recovered at all, of course). There was a very real possibility that he could die during the surgery, or even afterward. There still is.

If it comes down to it, we will make the choice to euthanize him to keep him from suffering a horrible, painful death.

I am so grateful today to tell you that post-surgery, Moosecat has been doing well. No fever, he’s eating again, drinking water again, and the best part of all– urinating! On his own, with no catheter, for the first time 10 days. He was very affectionate, and with a little continued luck, he might even come home tomorrow for a long convalescence.

‘Tis the season for eternal hope. I hold tight to my hope that we’ll not only have all of our human family home with us for Christmas this year, but also our furry family members. Thank you for being there through our journey.

When I visited our sweet kitty yesterday, he was not doing well at all. He could hardly stand up. I prepared myself all night and today to have the courage to euthanize him.

My husband and I visited Moosecat this afternoon, and despite his fourth urinary tract blockage (two in a row is rare; four in a row is unheard of in a single week), he was actually doing better. We threw our last Hail Mary pass and asked the vet to do a Perineal Urethrostomy (PU) procedure that basically makes our "he" cat a "she."

He made it through the surgery and according to the vet was doing "great" in recovery tonight. As long as he can use the new equipment to urinate, he can come home in a day or two. If it doesn't work and he can't pee, we will be bringing him home to say goodbye, as there is nothing else we can do.