26 March 2014: Wednesday ... workout shortened by mom's shortness of breath during Amy's Body Pump ... Beth visits, no key (now one under welcome mat) ... Skeesha's wonderful visit, as always ...

Dancer reminds me of a sphinx with her silent stance at the top of the steps in the living room.

First time I had to leave the Y early to come home for a distressed mom. I called Beth and she phoned Mom, found her respiration at 7 and came to the house to find it, or course, locked. (I would come home and place a house key under the welcome mat for future emergencies.) Well, I left Amy's Body Pump in its last phase and got home quickly to find mom OK and gave her a dose of morphine which calmed her. 
We got a welcome delivery from FedEx this afternoon. The drugs, amazingly ordered just yesterday by Beth (who I texted today about those drugs and whether she'd included Tamazepam and morphine, she did because they were in the manila, sealed container), got here and I took some welcome time to fill the containers in the 7-day pill dispenser. It's nice to have enough pain and tranquilizer meds for mom. It makes her life so much more bearable. 
Skeesha came about midday and was wonderful as usual. She makes mom glow and makes the bed and is just such a lovely person. Really makes mom's day, 3X a week. I actually stayed awake during this visit and got to let her out on this windy, chill day. 
Have been driving to Delcastle Recreational Park to walk Dancer in its long, windy, narrow asphalt path around the facility and with inroads during the walk which worked out to almost 2 & 1/2 miles this afternoon. She always does her business like clockwork and gets a good walk in as I take her off the leash on a quiet afternoon with few guests. 

Robert Jones called and I vented about my feeling of loneliness and lack of success in the relationship department. I'd deleted some of the e-mails that Christine had not read on Match.com and probably never would have and I feel that she just doesn't want to get involved. Another excuse, legitimate, her daughter's illness kept us from a coffee date on Tuesday and I don't think it will become a reality. I need to back off and just let the chips fall where they may. I have no control over what happens in my relationships with women and it's best that I not force things. If she wants to get together, fine, if not, well, at least I will know and can move on to wherever. I did mention to Robert that my best friend of late has been a friend I reached out to because of our mutual love of Mozart, a Tunisian college student and Android app designer, Jihed Khiary, from Tunis. All others appear to have other interests and do not take the time to share their time with me.

I did hear back from Erica, through texting, about the tickets to the 87ers on Friday evening. She can't go as she has to work, so I have 4 tickets and only me. Perhaps Katia might be interested or somebody from church. Need to get on it as I have an appt. with Szewcyk tomorrow about the taxes and a possible date to walk dogs with Bob and Caleb early on Friday. The game is Friday night at the Carpenter Center on the U of Delaware campus. 

23 February 2014: Sunday ... WDAV.org on the iPhone ... coffee (he bought at Pathmark as I cycled at Y) wafting up from downstairs (Doug up early) at 4:48 a.m. ... UU Choirs assemble, Greg Pelley does sermon (dividing walls) ... Katia there, presentation at DBI tomorrow

Katia Sol-Church will be giving presentation at the Delaware Biotechnology Institute tomorrow afternoon. Unfortunately, it's a new group and she'd rather I attended other seminars at the Nemours Institute, which are open to the public, and which she will keep me posted.

Today was bow tie day and Gordon wore one (A CLIP-ON!!!) but I could not tie mine even though I brought it with me, purchased from J. C. Penney's yesterday for $25.00 (ouch), but better than $54.50 from the high-priced clothier (name eludes me) and its dewy-eyed vixen of a salesgirl. There was talk-back with our new, interim minister and talk of going to Anthony's Pizza afterward but I headed home to Doug and mom and no conversation and warmed up lasagna (pretty good). My brother left at 2 p.m., promptly, for the airport and his flight home.  

3 February 2014: Monday ... started as cold rain, became snow, then sleet, then snow again, now slush which may turn to ice as temp goes down tonight ... Y closed early ... CJ & daughter, he joined me shoveling the slush on our respective sidewalks and driveway

The driveway, wetted by slushy snow and puddles earlier, shoveled to the side with some sweat and cardio, but not completely, has frozen and offers a slick predicament to foot travel as I make my way, minutes before the start of a Flyers' hockey game out west at 10:30 p.m. EST, to deposit the lid of a dog food can into the can for recyclables (What is done with that agglomeration of varied items from paper to plastic to metal?).

 

6 December 2013: Friday ... early morning fireworks ... delicacy of drinking ... the confusion of time and medications ... the wisdom and caring of a mother ... Dancer on her *LOVE* couch ...

It started just after 4 a.m. with a call from mom, "IT'S YOUR FATHER ...", and she was out of her room in the hallway and I almost knocked her over but grabbed her in time as I shuttled upstairs to confront a confused dad who did not realize the time and was unsure about his medications, but, we got settled down and he got back in the bed within a few minutes and I got a couple more hours of rest. BUT ... my gracious, that was a startled awakening from sleep.

Dad mentioned Uncle Ray this morning and his desire to end it like his beloved brother-in-law did. I told him that they don't have physician-assisted suicide in Delaware. Mom, in her wisdom, said that when he gets to the point of Ray that we not engage any heroic measures to prolong his life. Simple but filled with understanding and intelligence. She hit the nail on the head.  

My goodness he's quiet (10:11 a.m.) or I am just too involved in my Facebook commentary, but he's out of the bed and asking me whether the breathing tube and cannula in his old examining room (just inside the door in a paper bag) is as long as the one he's using currently. It is, I tell him. Still need to figure out how to lengthen it to at least 10' over the current 5'. 

It's overcast and drizzly on this Friday morning, the end of the first week in December, and her royal "Princess" surveys her kingdom from her favorite couch throne at the entrance way to her Castle
on Pickwick Drive, North Limestone Gardens, Wilmington, Delaware, USA. 

New plan as he worryingly asks, "Is it 11 o'clock", it is as I look at the clock given to him for his ears of service at Memorial in the employee clinic ... no shaving or bathing until tomorrow as he drinks his citrate of magnesia and water (1/2 and 1/2) as he is constipated and needs to take care of that, first. 

Doing a little web search on the Mauritshuis Museum in The Hague, dad's hometown, which is sponsoring an exhibit currently at The Frick Museum in New York, featured in a Fresh Air piece yesterday, posted to my Facebook. Well, I just love this famous painting, made more famous by the bestselling novel of Tracy Chevalier, Girl With The Pearl Earring. 

Programs presented in conjunction with Girl with a Pearl Earring:
Dutch Paintings from the Mauritshuis and Rembrandt’s Century, on view January 26–June 2.
At the de Young Museum, 50 Hagiwara Tea Garden Drive, San Francisco.

Just got this serendipitous post from Fay Lyon Verburg on Facebook, who I'd forgotten, married a Dutchman:

" Rudy, I forgot that your dad and my father-in-law (deceased) both hailed from the Hague.

 I'm sure there are still cousins there to visit. My father-in-law was in the Dutch Royal Navy

 during WWII."

Just noticed that dad had an appointment today with Dr. Stephen Grubbs. I called, having

to type 2, 2, 2 into the phone to reach the proper party and leave a message that we would

not be able to make the appointment due to dad's illness.

Art Steele, doctor son of Sydney and Mercedes, called this early afternoon from Baltimore

 and hopes to stop by tomorrow or Sunday. He will call when he leaves the Maryland city

where he is attending some intense conference. Good to hear from him as he called my

 Rudy, Jr. I don't believe I have ever met him, but I may be wrong.

Doctor

self employed

February 2008 – Present (5 years 11 months) Augusta Regional Free Medical Clinic

semi-retired. part-time.

Director, Shenandoah Diabetes & Endocrinolgy Center

Private Medical Practice

Privately Held; 1-10 employees; Medical Practice industry

1990 – 2007 (17 years)

Closed practice due to health, for multiple surgeries. Now ready to work.

A. Arthur Steele MD, FACE, FACP's Education

University of Maryland School of Medicine

MD, Medicine

1967 – 1971

Internship in Internal Medicine at the University of Maryland Hospital, 1971-1972.
Residency Internal Medicine, at S.U.N.Y. at Buffalo, 1972-1974.
Fellowship, Oncology at Johns Hopkins University Medical Center. 1974-1975
Fellowship, Endocrinology, S.U.N.Y. at Buffalo, 1975-1977

College of the Holy Cross

Bachelor of Science (BS), Biology, General

1963 – 1967

A. Arthur Steele MD, FACE, FACP's Additional Information

Interests:

General Endocrinology, Diabetes, Thyroid Diseases, General Internal Medicine.

Groups and Associations:

American College of Physicians; American College of Endocrinology

• 
  Dubai Recruitment
• 
  Endocrinology Discussion Network
• 
  Job Openings, Job Leads and Job Connections!
• 
  Locum Tenens Professionals

Honors and Awards:

; Fellow of American College of Physicians American College of Endocrinology

Just posted this "elephant in the room", the topic of physician-assisted suicide. My post

read: "It's the elephant in the room. Oregon has had it since 1994, Vermont since May of this year, but in 46 states and the District of Columbia it's a crime."

Dad brought it up today, see the bold red at the top of this blog post. 

Excellent trip to the bank in Greenville (now I see why dad went all that way all those years ... they are incredibly helpful), Pathmark, and then Bachetti's. Even in the rain, the drive up Centreville Road past those estates, that windy, serpentine, narrow road with its foreboding, large trees growing right alongside the roadway and then at the close, before the turn for the upscale shopping center and Wells Fargo, as you drive by A. I. du Pont High School.

Racheal Conaway, Wells Fargo banker, with the biblical spelling of her first name and the additional "a" for the more common name Conway, was the person who helped me after I waited for a few minutes. Kwaku Boateng was in another office, but Racheal was amazing. She got my checks ordered and told me that the other set of checks were for an account that had been closed. Checks had been purchased but she ordered a new set, starting at #520. If we find the other set, just shred them like she did for the checks that I brought.

It's 6 p.m and the NewsHour is starting on the television, dad is lying on the bed, which I made a few minutes ago (he always says I do a superlative, perfect job of making the bed), but to continue my shopping trip, I got extra paper towels and toilet paper, which was on special at Pathmark, where I also got my statin prescription.

When I got home, Skeesha, was backed into the driveway and ready to leave the house. She'd brought the essential connector for the plastic tubing of dad's breathing line to his oxygen concentrator, which I upped to 3 1/2 liters. First thing I did was extend his breathing line with the connector. It made movement a little easier.  

I await a phone call from a possible sitter volunteer from Delaware Hospice. I got his name from Melody but have forgotten it. Still, hope he calls. I met him, Dennis, as I went outside to walk Dancer on this rainy, chilly, dark night. He was on the sidewalk, umbrella overhead, and called out: "Mr. Nyhoff". He would turn out to be a godsend.  

Tonight I will be attending the Rainbow Chorale: Concert in the sanctuary and Memorial Hall of First & Central Presbyterian at 1101 Market Street, right across from the DuPont Hotel near Rodney Square. I will meet Linda there and take her home from the concert. Where to park will be interesting but I think there is a parking garage right by the church. Parked there years ago when we attended a play, I believe, at the hotel.

The concert was wonderful. Kristen Tosh-Morelli and her partner were there. She use to sing in the group and sang with other alumni at the close of the concert. I wrote a fairly detailed critique, mostly positive, on a response card that was enclosed in the program and put it in the box, which resembled a ballot container, but I left WITHOUT MY CELL PHONE still hiding under a program on my pew. Did not realize it till Linda, who can take steps like an athlete, and I made it to the car on the 2nd level of the car park off Orange Street near the Hotel du Pont. It was a short walk from the church, but holy cow, no cell phone, we drove back to the church and I illegally parked, she turned on the flashers and I found it, thankfully, where I was sitting, hiding under the program. WHEWWWW!!!!
Don't know how I can forget something so vital.

Called Dennis Strunk to find that dad had wandered downstairs and that the DH volunteer of 3 years, an organic chemist, who lives close by, had managed to walk him back upstairs and back into bed. A remarkable achievement for someone who did not know my father from Adam ... I thanked him profusely and after he left, went upstairs to reattach the nasal cannula, which had come lose in my father's perambulation. He objected a little but did not reawaken. That would happen later in the morning and as I type, suffused with 3 cups of coffee, I wonder how sleep deficit I am an undergoing.

He had two accidents during the night and as a result, two pajama bottoms rest in the washer at present and require movement to the dryer. Doug, in a phone call from my Credo phone, which I think I'm going to change to in the coming days, said that "we" should look into adult Depends. I will, today. 

A call to Delaware Hospice yielded an amazing conversation with Lucy Mealey, RN, who left a detailed message and whom I called back to learn so much more about her and her family and her association with dad and the fact that she is married to the owner of Mealey Funeral Home, Charles "Chick" Mealey.

The world is a small place of inter-connectivity.  

3 December 2013: Tuesday ...

A lazy day that I spent napping and dad slept most of the afternoon and awoke confused ... did I take my medicine (3 pills ... in the morning) and was unsure what time of day it was ... it's pushing 9:00 p.m. and I have to close down the computer and head to bed myself.

Had a good walk tonight ... exactly 2 miles when I got to the home at an average of 18:16 per mile and I'm thinking I need to get out on the roof to see the planets, maybe the moons of Jupiter with binoculars.

So much to write and so much to be thankful for. Need to get back to this writing and soon. Can't let the days pass because they will become history and irretrievable in the memory banks.

Got a number of deliveries ... drugs from Delaware Hospice via FedEx, my phone from
Credo (initial activation is disappointing ... voice sound is tinny and far off), and clothes from L.L. Bean. 

8 October, 2013: Wednesday, JDHS on a cool, foggy morning walk with Dancer ...

The picture below came from Steamin' Days at the Marshall Steam Museum in Yorklyn, Delaware, which is near Hockessin. These are miniature steam engine trains which moves visitors around the property.
The museum has one of the largest collection of Stanley Steamer automobiles. Got there thanks to Goose's sister Kathy, a volunteer ticket taker, who offered up two free tickets.

John Dickinson in the early morning chill and fog on a walk with Dancer. We walked and I did about four middle-aged jogs to amount to little over 3 miles. Posted this on FB. 

The Words for the poem and the link to Heifetz 

playing "Beau Soir". 

poem by Paul Bourget

When the rivulets are rosy in the setting sun,
And a mild tremor runs over the wheat fields,
An exhortation to be happy seems to emanate from things
And rises towards the troubled heart.

An exhortation to enjoy the charm of being alive
While one is young and the evening is beautiful,
For we are going on, as this stream goes on:
The stream to the sea, we to the grave.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IuDms-cOu3I

Above is link to YouTube video that I took of mom walking the hallway backed up by Nick, before he left for Philly. Today was momentous as I woke very early (shortly after 2 a.m.) and stayed up to do piddly things like sort my e-mail in my iPhone and read the amazing start of "How We Die" by the doctor who won a National Book Award.

But dad is having rougher days. I did all the meals today from breakfast to lunch and then heated up dinner for mom and made a cheese/tomato/ham melt for dad, who ate only half of it. Much more needs to be written as I went to Pathmark to food shop (Terry helped me out by showing me where the Pam was and a microwaveable bowl for the carrots that tasted so sweet), I heard a melancholy, beautiful melody and thought of dad and the tears, which will be abundant in the months ahead, began to flow. Such is the power of music. NPR had a segment on the upcoming 200th bday of Verdi and dad and I listened to it, dad asking me the opera that played a segment of on the program. It was La Traviata, I think, but dad is full of knowledge and he is sharing it with me and it is a true gift, maybe that's why the tears came because that will be gone and I will miss it, like Bob missed the opportunity to tell his mom that she was terminally ill. We had a long talk today on the phone and it was good to hear his voice and to make plans, at least plan to make plans, to get together. He sent me his more useful e-mail and I changed it in my Google address book. 

More needs to be added but the dog needs walking around the big block and Nick is moving toward a dinner date with John, who has a lesson at 7 p.m., at Monk's in Philly. He'll be back late but feels confident in his GPS to make his way home. I'm not worried but I'll be up till he gets home. Watch a Frontline piece on the concussion-related syndrome linked to the NFL tonight. It is two hours and runs from 9-11 p.m. Dad will be asleep but mom will be up and I can watch it on the flat screen, HDTV.