Rice

My dad's little world consists of sitting and sleeping in his chair and eating in the den while watching tv, going to the bathroom which is adjacent to the den and monkeying around on his computer in his office which is adjacent to the bathroom.  I call it "The Schwartz Triangle."  Thankfully, no one gets lost going or coming from that area. And he is very content with this.  I've been trying to get him out in the pool, but he refuses.  He said one day he may surprise me.  I want him to exercise his legs because they look like potato sticks.  He has the normal bump where the kneecap is, but the rest of his leg, all the way up to his hip, looks like skeleton legs.  I think if he walked around in the pool, that it would bring some of his muscle mass back, but I can't get him in the pool.  Once my mom can do the steps, she'll come in the pool and it will do her a lot of good. 

We are waiting for the doctor to call us with the date of her next surgery on her left hip, which has been bad all of this time.  The implanted pins in her hip have slipped and are poking out of her bone, so she's in constant pain.  Surgery has been delayed all of this time because of her other hip surgery, and then we were waiting for the Mersa to go away.  The doctors have told us its gone, so now we're just waiting for them to schedule the surgery.  These clinics down here really take their time doing things.  It's very annoying.  But then I'm not the one with the pins poking out of my bones; my mom has much more patience than I do. 

It's getting to the point that when I make dinner, I hold my breath to see if my dad will like it or not.  I mean, he critiques every meal and so I am getting used to his saying that "This is good, sis."  He has a couple of times said, "I really don't like this.  Could you have done something different with it?"  I'll either say I didn't like it either or yeah, I missed something.  Funny, but he's usually right.  So I made chocolate chip cookies this afternoon, which he really likes, but this time they didn't turn out right.  They were puffy and gross, with not a lot of flavor.  I couldn't figure out what I did wrong.  My mom said maybe the margarine wasn't right, and for sure, that's what it was.  I should have used butter, but even if I used margarine, I would need to use the stick kind - not the kind in the tub, which is what I used.  Oh well - we stick everything in the freezer here, so that's where they went too.  When they're frozen they're really not that bad.

We had enchiladas that I found in the frozen section at the store tonight.  They were very good, but the funny thing is they were filled with rice.  My dad hates rice, and when he began to eat, my mom and I just looked at each other with sly grins, waiting for my dad's critique.  After a minute, he said, "I like this, but it's really not that spicy."  I don't know how he can tell with all the BBQ sauce he dumps on it, but that's ok - he ate it.  And he didn't even know there was rice in there because the sauce disguised it.  I don't know what he thought he was eating - maybe some mysterious Mexican ingredient.  My mom and I laughed about it after dinner.  Now I'm going to get more courageous and see what other rice dishes he won't be able to recognize, because my mom and I both like rice.  I love it, but I haven't made it since I've been down here. 

My mom is growing really attached to Kita, and I think it's doing her wonders.  Now I know why people bring dogs into nursing homes and hospitals - they're very therapeutic.  I'm glad that she's being more than just a companion for me.  Sometimes it's the small things in life, like the love of a dog, that we overlook or take for granted, but end up meaning so much.