Grand Mother's Good Eye--Part II

Some sixty years ago, the Great Grumpy was blessed by marrying a beautiful, blue-eyed blonde Norwegian girl who thus became the First Wife. However, only after we were wed did I come to realize that being a Norwegian meant a stubbornness rivaling that of the stereotypical German! Alas, two stubborn people in the same house -- at the same time!! What hath God wrought!?

Well, we managed to sufficiently suppress our different opinions as to the "right" way of doing things so that our marriage endured. In other words, Grumpy learned to say "yes dear" most of the time when he would have much rather told his Bride that "we will do it my way, or else!!" [To which the Bride would have asked demurely, "Or else, what?!"] Amazingly, most of the time we both agreed, and that made the other times forgettable -- until the "next time" came along!

Which brings us to the present time: As the loyal readers of this BLOG will note, the Grand Mother recently underwent retinal surgery on her left eye - her "good" eye. The after-effects of the surgery left her functionally blind in both eyes, her right eye having been blinded by the doings of a careless Retinologist several years ago. Thus, she was/is totally blind -- or is she!?

Grumpy has been called into duty to cook, put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and run it when appropriately full; make beds (mine never needs it! Ha!); read the Grand Mother's mail [both snail-mail and e-mail] and the daily funny papers to her; put drops in her eye and meter out Insulin dosages to her specifications. Grumpy also tried to commandeer certain other duties, including washing the dirty clothes, putting them in the dryer and sorting and folding them after they are dry.

Arguments ensued over such things as whether the dosage she "suggested" were adequate, too much, etc. After all, Grumpy could see the line graph that he produced showing her twice- or three-times daily blood sugar readings and her Insulin dosages (usually twice a day). And Grumpy, being an Engineer, could "reasonably predict the future, more favorable results" of a certain modification in the dosage considered "proper" by the Grand Mother. But after seeing the futility of his arguments, Grumpy meekly(?) said, "Yes dear" but then predicted that the Grand Mother would be in serious low-blood sugar trouble by 3 or 4 in the morning.

Well, much to Grumpy's surprise, the aforesaid Grand Mother was resting quietly and comfortably when he checked on her at 3 in the morning and, when he reawoke at 7 a.m. and helped her check her blood sugar, it was 91 [100 is ideal]!!

Another, more recent disagreement took place just yesterday. The Grand Mother decided it was time to wash the dirty clothes -- a whole week and a half's worth! I pointed out that she wouldn't be able to measure -- much less be able to identify! -- the soap; that she wouldn't be able to see to sort the colored clothes from the whites, or the polyester no-irons from the cotton stuff, set the washer and dryer to the proper settings, etc. "No problem," she says, "I'll have Darrell carry the hamper down stairs and help me measure and set things up."

And so she did.

But then later, I caught her heading downstairs alone. I inquired what she thought she was going to do. She replied, somewhat tartly that she was going to take the clothes out of the dryer, sort them and fold them! I followed her downstairs, arguing along the way that she couldn't possibly sort or fold them; I could "do it for her". Talk about an infuriating phrase! "Do it for her" was right up there with questioning her integrity in its insult value!!

So Grumpy just stood by her side, watching as she removed the clothes from the dryer. As she picked up a towel, I asked her to identify what she was holding; "It's a kitchen towel, " she said smugly (and darned if it wasn't!). She folded it and put it with a previous stack of kitchen towels.

Not to be dissuaded by her obvious streak of luck in properly identifying a terry-cloth towel (heck, I'll bet I could have done that!), I asked her what she had now (it was a pair of briefs). She immediately replied, "It's a pair of Darrell's undershorts," as she folded it properly and placed in his stack of clean clothes. But then she picked up another pair of almost identical briefs (mine this time) and, after folding them placed them on the different pile that included my T-shirts and other undershorts.

Grumpy gave up, conceding silently that this poor, crippled little "blind" girl (and still my beautiful Bride, although she will never admit it!), must have eyes on the back of her head -- just like she always told our kids when they were young! Grumpy was (and still is) flabbergasted, to say the least.

The moral of this story: Never question or underestimate the abilities of a stubborn Norwegian girl to know what is right more often than not. After all, she picked me didn't she!?

The Grand Mother's Good Eye

As most of the readers are aware, the Grand Mother has one "Good Eye" (her left) and one "Evil Eye" (her right, where the macular portion of her retina was destroyed several years ago by a Retinologist who mindlessly destroyed this critical portion of her retina by using excess laser power and number of "shots"). That is another story; this story is about her "Good Eye".

Sometime Thursday (24 July), the Grand Mother noticed a "blurring or darkening" of the vision in her left eye. By 10 or 11 the next morning, she began to realize that "something really bad" was happening. She told Grumpy that it was "dark on the bottom part"; this indicated a retinal detachement of the upper part (the eye inverts the image). She also described a "bright circle" inside the dark area with a brighter outline around the outside of the bright circle (Grumpy's comment: I don't know what this was or what it might mean). So she began calling her Ophthalmologist to see if something was drastic enough to require immediate attention. Unfortunately, her Ophthalmologist is on Summer vacation and could not be reached. Ultimately, she was referred to a Retinologist associated with Swedish Hospital on "pill hill" in downtown Seattle. She was told to "be prepared for immediate hospitalization" in case the Retinologist determines that surgery is necessary. It turned out that that was the case.

Dr. Saperstein, the Specialist in Vitreo-Retinology to whom the Grand Mother was referred, looked young enough to be one of our kids. But he assured us that he "had been doing this sort of surgery for 15 years". [The Grand Mother and Grumpy have some difficulty remembering that our own children are fully mature and actually wiser and more skilled than their progenitors!]

Dr. Saperstein confirmed our suspicions that Grand Mother had a detached retina. He also examined her right eye to be sure that it was OK -- as far as the retina is concerned anyway. He escorted us from his clinic over to the admission desk in the hospital. There we filled out a gajillion forms and were told we must sign a "blank check" that whatever our insurance provider didn't pay would be our reponsibility. As usual Grumpy went ballistic and insisted that he call our provider; but, also as usual, the Grand Mother's cooler and wiser head prevailed and as soon as she had signed the dastardly form, was taken to the Operating Room.

Grumpy went out to sit glumly and lonesomely in the lobby awaiting news from Dr. Saperstein that "everything went well and your wife will be down shortly".

At about 3 pm, I was told I could go up to her room and see the Grand Mother. Grumpy was relieved to see that she was experiencing no pain and had no bruises or other visible trauma. It was after he began a histograph of her blood sugar readings and Insulin injections that the realization came that she had undergone considerable psychological trauma. The stress of seeing Grumpy stomp off angry about having to sign that one admission form was one thing. The other, perhaps more significant, was the absence of any Insulin injections for nearly 24 hours. Anyway, there was a large "spike" in her blood sugar readings. The Grand Mother was not happy about being "under anesthesized" such that she felt some fluid (probably the vitreous fluid) running down her cheek and some "sharp pricks" during the surgery. But, as soon as she got home and "in command" of her injections (thanks to the obedient, though argumentative Grumpy!) she stabilized her blood sugar, as can be seen on the histograph, with her designated Insulin injections shown as red squares with a number representing ten times the milliliter quantity. Grumpy was proud of her -- after he recognized that she was right, not him.


It soon became obvious that the Grand Mother had returned to her "old, cheerful self" -- and likes to talk on the telephone. Here Grumpy believes she is talking to her sister back in Minnesota. Grumpy believes he heard such phrases as:
This end: "He is busy doing whatever I tell him to do."
Suspected other end: "I'll bet you like that!"
This end: "Yes, it is nice for a change! And he even seems to like it!!"

Grumpy has to admit that he doesn't mind the "slave duty". After all, the Grand Mother has given him more than he deserved these past 60-plus years. It's a fine opportunity to show her that he can help out more than she might have otherwise realized. For example, Grumpy offered to make a Lemon Meringue Pie -- all she had to do was recite the recipe to him as he measured and mixed the ingredients. What a deal!!

NOT!!!

Alas, the days of those delicious, delectable Lemon Meringue Pies are over unless or until two (2) things happen: 1.) Grand Mother's "Good Eye" recovers completely, and, 2.) The Great Grumpy Z starts behaving himself better than he ever has in past history. The first is a good bet to happen in four or five weeks; the second is possible, though not too likely given his track record.

Some More of Olivia -- Maybe not the Last After All?

I'm not too sorry for wanting to show off my youngest granddaughter, Olivia with a set of photos I took this week. Last Sunday, The Grand Mother and Grumpy had the distinct pleasure of keeping her (the "last" time wasn't the last time after all!!) while her Papa did his week's laundry and other errands. Olivia picked up the Sunday comics and started this sequence with the picture at right. Although she seems nonchalant, she is actually very aware that her picture is being taken. Other than that, this is not a posed picture. Olivia is just a natural-born "ham"!

Aware that the camera flash had gone off, she looked up (second photo right), which seemed to be asking, "Grandpa, why are you pointing that camera at me?" In reality, she is just pondering what cute pose to do next that will result in more flashes. (Did I mention that Olivia is maybe somewhat of a "ham"?)

Then, as if satisfied that Grandpa was up to his usual tricks of taking pictures, Olivia went back to "reading" the comics. You might discern that she is a bit cross-eyed in both these pictures -- that is frequently the case when she isn't wearing her 3 diopter glasses that the Pediatric Ophthalmologist at Childrens' Hospital prescribed for her about a year ago. The doctor said he was very satisfied when he saw her recently, with the progress she is making.

Finally, after "completing" that page in the comics, she is slyly peeking at the next page to see if the strip continues there.

Need I say it again, Olivia is a full-fledged, natural-born, dyed-in-the-wool photgenic "ham"?

Can you blame a proud Grandpa for liking to take pictures of his youngest granddaughter?

Olivia; Our Last Day Together

Today, the Grand Mother and Great Grumpy had the pleasure of having Olivia (our youngest Granddaughter) with us for the whole day. The day began when Adolfo dropped Olivia and Ramiro off at about 5:30 this morning. If I had taken a picture of her then I could have included "before" and "after" shots -- she had a tangled mat of curly, black hair this morning. By the time the Grand Mother had finished getting her ready to go to the ophthalmologist, Olivia was gorgeous! Don't you agree, as shown in the photo at the right?

The Great Grumpy installed the car seat and placed Olivia in it for the ride to Children's Hospital. Olivia "helped" by getting the seat belt out from the car seat and arranged so Great Grumpy could fasten it properly. Great Grumpy made sure that Olivia had company for the trip to the doctor -- the extra pair of eyeglasses on the dolly, was further encouragement for Olivia to keep her glasses on. Note that the doll is also secured -- properly -- with the center rear-seat belt. (Ok! Ok! To be really proper, the doll should have had a suitable car seat -- but come on, give me a little slack, OK?)

On the way to Children's Hospital (the Great Grumpy got lost getting there again -- third time in a month!) Olivia went to sleep, waking up only when it was time to go in for her appointment. She was having her eyes checked to determine how well the 3-diopter eyeglasses were helping to keep her from crossing her eyes. (It works!! Apparently by enabling her to focus on things better. The ophthalmologist was pleased.)

At Children's she was allowed to ride around in her stroller, pushed by the Grand Mother (Chief Spoiler of Grandchildren). Grumpy loitered in the nearest easy chair "slaving" away on the Sudoku puzzles he had brought along.