Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers

Society is overrated.

This is how potent our regular catnip is. I took the last gram of it that we had and sprinkled it on the floor next to the scratcher/toy area and just let the cats find it in their own time. And each in their turn, rolled around on the floor in that sprinkling of catnip. I let that small patch of carpet go unvacuumed for a couple of days until they got sick of it. Then, yesterday, I vacuumed it up. Today, the area of carpet that the catnip was on was the focus of renewed attention, as they each came by and rolled around on the floor. They still smell it. Yeah, we have to get us more of that.

Wow, Paul McCartney is singing on SNL and he sounds horrible. Like his voice is gone, or he's fighting a cold or something. He's wailing, though. He's giving it all he's got, like he always does, so I can't fault him. I'm more concerned for him than anything else. He is one of those entertainers that you don't have to like to appreciate. I don't really care for any of his music, but I will sit down and watch him perform any time. He is a prime example of someone who always goes 150% for the audience. You have to appreciate that kind of passion. And his genius to have been writing original songs all this time. Respect. Get well.

When I go outside on the patio to smoke, Major always goes to the sliding glass door and sits there watching me, so he doesn't lose me. I can only imagine what happens when I take the dog out. He probably wanders through the rooms howling.

Kelli said the first hopeful thing about returning here that I have heard in three years. Today's conversation was harsh. I was walking the dog in a tshirt and jeans, while she was huddled under a down comforter in front of a space heater, because it's like 3 degrees in Pittsbugh right now. Her sister has taken a new position and is moving halfway across the state with Kel's fave nephew. And he was the only thing keeping her there.

So, I believe I mentioned a booklet I found online for Caregivers of people with schizophrenia/schizoaffective disorder. He stopped at a list of the common symptoms, and didn't read further. I looked at where he stopped, and saw why. It was a list of cognitive symptoms that complicate things, and can be a problem even if the patient is stable on medication and having no psychotic symptoms at the time. It's something that doesn't get talked about often, I've never spoken to my shrink about it. They never talked about it at the hospitals. Doctors are coming around to believe that they are as important to treatment as the positive and negative schizophrenia symptoms.

Here's the list:
◆ Ability to pay attention
◆ Ability to remember and recall information
◆ Ability to process information quickly
◆ Ability to respond to information quickly
◆ Ability to think critically, plan, organize and problem solve.
◆ Ability to initiate speech

That's me. That right there is a list of things about me that Doc hates. When I asked about them, all he would say was, "Kelli needs to come back, I can't do this alone anymore."

There are some alzheimer's drugs that can help with some of these things. I just need to make a determination about how much medication I am willing to flood my liver with. I've told you before that my liver is what I think will go out on me. I think that's how I'm going to die. My liver will give up after all the years of medications.

The speech thing, I didn't know. That explains why I don't talk. It's just too much effort. I tend to talk very slowly, as the words flit through my head. But if you don't let me get out what I'm trying to say, I'll lose it. There's no going back to it. It's very frustrating to both Doc and I. To him, because I am always interrupting his train of thought, or what he's listening to with something that just came to me, and he won't let me say it, then 10 minutes later, when I'm like 5 galaxies over from the one where I started to talk, that I can't even remember starting to talk, let alone what it was about.

And he has to tell me things 875 times, and I will still forget. We've tried writing notes to me. I keep a notepad document open where I put things he tells me, but I always forget about the notebook file.

And all this time, he's been thinking I'm like this on purpose, just to complicate his life. That I have some Machiavellian motive behind everything I do that's on that list. And this proves that I don't. But it's also a cold slap in his face that my getting better (i.e. normal) is just not going to happen. It will improve, and degrade with my symptoms. And, like I would be, he doesn't think he can handle me alone anymore.

Fucking paranoia! The dog is not helping. A scooter that sounds just like Doc's just stopped in front of our house and then drove away. The dog thought Daddy was home. He went to the front door to greet him and everything. I grabbed my dagger and opened the front door. Nothing. Argh! Jeez, Chewy is still on alert. I'll take him outside in a minute.

This SNL thing is just making me feel old and sad that I've wasted three decades waiting for the show to be funny again. Talk about a life waster. It just feels like a retirement party, and I swear the audience is tinned. I sounds less than real. They keep showing humans in the audience, but I feel like that's just stock footage, and no one is actually in the audience.

I took Chewy for a walk today with Kelli on the phone. I'm so entertained by being able to talk to her on the phone while I'm walking the dog, god I am old. I was paying no attention to anything but the dog and Kelli and suddenly heard yelling in Spanish across the street. All I could make out was Caesar, here!" and suddenly this big german shepherd is upon us. He calmly sniffs Chewy and then turns his attention to me, he just wants pets, awe. His owner ran over to get him. A cute, young, short Mexican man with a scruff of a mustache, I just wanted to kiss him on the forehead, he was so cute. And he grabs the dog, gently, and starts apologizing to me in Spanish and broken English. I just smiled at him with my lips covering lack of teeth and kissed the dog on the head instead of the man. I told him in extremely broken Spanish that all was alright. I'm pretty sure I called his dog beautiful in Italian, though. He didn't seem to notice. I was flustered.

Then we came around the block to the span of grass awns that Chewbacca likes to violate, and the Mean Old Man's house is right in the center. And of course he was out in his garage, just scowling at me as I approached. I let Chewy walk on his lawn, but not stop and as I passed the house and the Mean Old Man standing there, I explained loudly to the phone that I was passing the Mean Old Man's house. I know he heard me. Chews and I are changing our walk tomorrow for a while. Because I am actually going to get into a physical confrontation with this man.

I have no idea how to behave around other people anymore. I had a loose grasp on it before the decade in my house. But now, I have no clue. But something tells me it is not socially acceptable to throat punch an old man for honking at my dog. Just this little buzzing in my head that says, "no, Cyd, no". Also, to note, it is not acceptable to tell people you hate them/they are boring you/just wander away while someone is talking to you. Whatever. Society is overrated.

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