"Pain Noises"

Many times I get started on a blog and have to think who might read it.  That directs what I post. 

I talked to my Dad last night, the way I always do on Saturdays at a certain time.  As directed, by Dad, only call at a certain time unless there is an emergency.  I try to be dutiful. 

Which means, as I type, I think "Who is going to read this?" 

I called my stepmother's cell phone.  She has the better plan (more minutes).  We chatted for a while.  I told her how that election official spied on Ron's vote, and other things about my week.  Things were going pretty well, the way they normally do. 

Dad, she told me, was out with his oldest grandson.  This boy is the oldest stepkid's.  He is a good kid and the whole family loves him.  I don't really know him, I just remember when Dad brought him to breakfast with me one day back in the late 90's, and how he ran all over the restaurant. 

She wanted me to talk to him, I did, briefly.  Then Dad came in.  She had him talk to me. 

I believe Dad would have rather not, based on our conversation.  He was stiff, distracted, and rushed me off the phone as soon as he could.  But, before he did,

Wait, I need to share some Texas geography.  I live in Houston, hence the large header on the blog.  I am very proud of the fact - I love this city and have lived here longer than I've lived anywhere in my life.  I hope I have a long life in Houston, and die here. 

I am going to San Antonio next week.  It's about 200 miles.  I will be back before the weekend.  Dad told me he and "the other (step) kids" would be going to Austin this weekend.  Austin is 200 miles from Houston.  They will, apparently, be spending days in Austin.  Dad and two of the stepkids, and one of their spouses.  All a big happy family. 

I should add, Dad comes out to visit his sister (my aunt) and me once a year.  We each get a couple of days and that's it.  I hear all this stuff on Facebook about how mature adults want to spend more time with their grown kids.  I don't experience that. 

It could be he sees me as tied up with caregiver responsibilities and obligations.  It is hard to leave Ron for a length of time and Ron can't exactly "come along".  He can't even sit in the car for a couple of hours.  Ron sleeps a lot.  Not exactly a fun date. 

Dad did not mention seeing me, even though he will be going from over a thousand miles away, to a couple hundred.  When Pete (the guy who fixed up our house for the love of Jesus) had work in Austin, he drove out to see us. 

So, Pete will come, but my Dad will not.  I'll just leave that.  He (Dad) has said he will come out next spring. 

I try not to be hurt.  This is just who Dad is.  I have my own theory, which I will share after Dad passes. 

In the meantime, Ron was calling Amtrak.  He has had a lot of concerns about this trip and has actually memorized the ticket number.  It is alphanumeric.  I find it funny, it is a letter, a number, another letter, and some numbers.  Ron can always remember the first letter but not the second. 

He made a couple calls over the last month: You got my ticket right?  He was satisfied with that, 2 of us, traveling on this date at this time, traveling again on another date and time. 

Last night it was "I'm in a wheelchair, how the hell are you getting me on the train?"  They asked what kind of wheelchair (electric wheelchairs are hundreds of pounds heavier).  He told them it was a small manual chair.  Great, they told him, they had a lift, and a team.  One way or another, they are getting him on that train. 

They don't know I'm a blogger but you can imagine the one I would write if they failed to get Ron on that train.  Ron was satisfied and ended the conversation. 

I told him I was going to bed, I was a little depressed from the phone call.   I fell asleep pretty quick, but was awakened by Ron "pain noises".   Gasps, moans, etc.  I tried to go back to sleep.  Ron just has a crappy back and he did a lot of heavy lifting lately.  More noises. 

I started feeling conviction that I should offer to apply his magnets.  So I asked if he wanted them.  He said yes, he would take them after he had some vodka.  He went to the kitchen and drank.  Then he told me he had pain around his knee.  I believe it was back pain "referring" down to his knee as an aggravated  nerve bitched.  I applied a couple of magnets to his knee, even though they should have probably gone on his back.  He kept expressing pain.  It was pretty awful.  He was throwing back shots of vodka, yelling at God, and I couldn't do anything to help him.  It's not a place I wanted to be. 

I never thought about that with Ron.  I thought, if he had chronic pain, it would manifest at the start (right after his accident).  After all, that's the acute stage.  But once he got his leg operation (broken into 3 pieces) he was "fine" and never complained of pain for years.  I never thought this would develop later on.  Both his parents were pretty spry considering, and had no back troubles. 

Ron refers to himself, sometimes, as 'broken".  He is.  It is very hard to watch (which may be one reason Dad is reluctant to visit).  I tried to help him as best I could (and it was apparent to me he was in real pain).  Finally he said "something" (he credited the vodka) was working and he went back to bed.  He moaned off and on all night, waking me up, but I didn't say anything.  He started talking in his sleep around 6:30 and woke me up.  Something about a crack house.  I got up and asked him to stop, I was trying to sleep. 

But I had a pretty severe headache so I got up after a little while anyway, took some Excedrin, fed Biscuit, etc. 

Now I am doing the wrap it up things I need to do for my last minute trip prep.  It is a little more difficult traveling with Ron the way he is now but then, on the other hand, the wheelchair is a perfect "rack" for our backpacks.  I need to get some addresses, etc. - when we get to the train station at our destination we need to call a cab, and the cab wants an address.  So I have to get that, etc. 

I need to make a list of last minute things to put into our bags, tomorrow.  Things we will use tomorrow morning, like hair brushes, etc.  I trimmed Ron's beard so he looks a lot more presentable. 

After all, we have to make an impression.