Iím going to be 94 years old in August and I all of the sudden have no say about anything anymore. Every time I set out to do something, someone tells me that it will be fine and not to worry about it, that someone else will do it. Well, heck, Iím not sick or fretting about anything - like giving the dog a bath or something like that. I just asked for the sheers cause I planned to trim some of the fur around his eyes this afternoon, and then someone said a groomer will take care of it tomorrow.
I donít want someone else doing anything for me, and I donít want them taking my dog from me. He doesnít like being away from me. Heíll throw a fit! All of the sudden people are telling me that unless I let them clean up my house, the dog and I wonít be able to stay here anymore. Canít live in a house with garbage stacked in the garage, a broken toilet, dog food spoons on the kitchen counter and dog poop on the carpets, they say. They already made me sleep somewhere else for the last three nights. My toilet was working just fine; it was leaking is all. I had a bucket to catch it.
They got real mad at me because the garbage man cut me off. They said I didnít pay the bill. Well, nobody sent anything to me. I didnít see any bill. So these people who say they are trying to help me, they started throwing things away on me. Some of it didnít even belong to me, or I planned to sell it some day. What a waste! I paid good money for all of it. Iím sure I can make a nickle here and there on my great-granddaughterís old clothes, stuffed animals, Barbies, toys and games. Yes, I know they keep me from getting into the bed in the bedroom - what with the piles and clutter all around and all - but I sleep on the sofa in the living room now anyway ... Have for years.
Iím not taking any medicine unless the doctor tells me to herself. I guess the results of my blood work came in from my doctorís appointment yesterday, and a recording on the phone is supposed to prove that I should take the white pill instead of the green, but Iím not taking it. Iím not. I have three pills total and I know when Iím supposed to take them: two in the morning and the green one at 4 p.m., and Iím not changing anything, not until I talk to the doctor myself. My doctor monkeys with my pills all the time, anyways. I try to keep some of the bottles separate on the window sill, instead of in the cabinet, and sometimes I put pills in together so I donít have to get up, and then she goes and changes her mind about everything and it gets me all mixed up. I donít believe in doctors anyway.
The milk they left for me in the refrigerator last week is sour. I donít think itís my refrigerator, but it did run warm for a spell this winter. Someone was supposed to come and fix it, but they wanted $40 for it. Forty dollars! I just turned the dial up to high is all. So, no I havenít had my breakfast yet, and no I havenít taken my medicine yet this morning. Didnít have any supper last night neither. I didnít want to eat the chicken you left for me because I was waiting on someone to come share it with me. There were three pieces ... I couldnít eat all of it by myself.
No, I donít want to use the dryer. Canít afford it. The washer soap they make today ruins so many of my clothes anyway, so Iíve been washing them by hand in the lavatory. I use a real strong bar soap and put the wet things to dry on the side of the tub. Now Iím told I canít leave my soiled clothes in a corner in the restroom anymore. They said I should use the tub to take baths. Heck, I havenít taken a bath in three years. I canít get in there with my swollen legs. Thereís nothing to hold on to.
No, I donít need anybody to do anything for me. Iím just fine by myself with my dog. I donít like them women and nurses from the county coming around to help me with anything. I can re-bandage my legs myself at night. I donít need any social services, Meals on Wheels, no Lifeline, Depends, nor any veteranís benefits, even if I do qualify. I shut the door in their face. I wouldnít feel right taking anything for free from the government. I lived through the Depression, and nobody gave us nothiní back then. So, itís not for me, I donít need it. Iíd just as soon take care of myself. I can manage alone. Iím not riding in no wheel chair, I can tell you that.
I donít understand why they are picking on me. They think I donít know from nothing, but I would like to know just who is going to come take me? Why donít they come and get all those other people living in homes like mine instead of me? When my son takes me for rides on Sundays, I see people all over the county in houses with trash all around and dirty kids running around outside with skinny, barking dogs. Itís a wonder whatís going on inside, and itís probably not good, but nobodyís forcing them out. Iím not going to any nursing home. Iím staying right here with my dog and nobodyís taking either of us anywhere.
Now I have to take my shoes off in the kitchen; I wonít step on the new carpet. Thereís a new couch and a new chair, and the bedroom and the restroom are different. They tell me to keep everything picked up from now on, but the truth is I really donít think this is where Iíve been living. My house has four bedrooms and three bathrooms and this house has only two bedrooms and one bathroom. My parentsí room is downstairs and my sistersí rooms are up with mine, and thereís a toilet upstairs. Iíll show you just as soon as I get up. This isnít where Iíve been living, I say. You all are giving me a bunch of baloney is what youíre doing.
I prefer to sit outside in my chair with my dog most of the day anyway. The air feels good on my face, and maybe if they see me sitting outside, someone will stop by and keep me company.