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05/17/2004 Entry: "My weekend needs Cliff Notes" I've spent a lot of writing time, trying to sort out what the hell is happening in my life. Not in general, just right now. I can't seem to prioritize anything; I have had so much go on. I think it would help to make a list. Here's what's going on at this moment, in no real order. Grandmother's dead. That's it, man. Uncle Charles and Aunt Angela are handling all the arrangements, with the help of my later Grandmother because she left a pretty detailed list of what she wanted done. She's being cremated, and then her ashes are going to be flown or Phoenix, Arizona, so her ashes can be placed in a mausoleum, next to my Grandfather. This now means both my grandparents are buried next to the only spouses they ever had: one in Iron Mountain, one in Phoenix. Uncle Charles said Marion had left them enough money to get this done with a little left over (which they deserve to keep, in full, IMHO, after taking care of her for 17 years). My father has been notified, but he's not responded. I doubt he cares his crazy mother has died, which is one more stone that he will carry with him to the afterlife. Charles says that there's been a lot of paperwork they are working with, but it will be all settled and she should be in place by the end of this week. My attendance is optional, because there will be no ceremony, and they said it would probably make more sense to visit them later on, after he retires. For the past 20 years or so, both of them have been working pretty much to pay for Marion's bills, and now that she's gone, Charles says he's going to work a few more years then retire. Fran is sick. Well, we knew he was sick, but he's gotten more sick. Good news is Hospice has been really nice. They got him a hospital bed, bars installed in the showers, and someone comes in and cleans his linens once a week. He has decided that he's going to spend the rest of his short life with Debbie. His death cannot be far off, because I think he's finally accepted he really is going to die. He's been going around, trying to make peace as best he can. I am sick. I have some ENT thing, which I often get this time of year. Good news is I don't think I have pneumonia yet, because if I did, I would have been in the hospital Saturday. I have a deep chest cold, my throat is swollen up, and the infection in the back of my throat has spread to one side of my jaw, making chewing very difficult. I am seeing the doctor first thing Monday. On top of that, these weird bug bites are covering my left elbow. Only there, and nowhere else. They don't itch or hurt, but they scabbed over. Totally weird. Artoo, my favorite cat, is sick. The vet isn't sure what it is, so he's on anti-biotics for the next week or so to see if whatever he has clears up. We think he has an ENT infection with a urinary tract infection on top of it. We were terrified he had what Oreo had, but they pretty quickly determined he wasn't blocked. Artoo is 12, and he's now the oldest cat we have ever had. Pookie died at 10, Oreo at 6, and Mikey at 4. So... you know... tick tock. The good news is he seems okay for the most part, and he's the kind of cat that's pretty easy to force pills to. Christine has injured her shoulder something awful. It started as an aggravated injury from driving so much (back and forth to Florida twice, and to West Virginia three times), but now she can't put her arm over her head and can't lift anything on that side. It even hurts to turn over in bed. Months ago, she agreed to host a party at our house, where friends of ours who sold things (Tasteful Treasures, Pampered Chef, Partylite Candles, and some scrapbook thing) could have one big exchange. Well, all this crap happened on Friday and lingered through the weekend. The parties went well. Debbie was over for the parties, but also to pick up the last of Fran's stuff, and in the process, fell down the same set of concrete stairs that broke Christine's ankles back in late 2001. Debbie sprained her wrist, scraped the hell out of her knee, and landed on her foot at an odd angle, causing massive swelling. She had to go to the hospital for it. Sean, in a helpful attempt to cheer me up, had me over at his house on Saturday, because he didn't care if I was sick or not. "Our kids bring home a new disease every day!" he dismissed. Honestly, I was glad for the distraction, which was his purpose. I wasn't worried about getting his kids sick because I think they gave this to me (or actually, to CR, who had it earlier in the week, and then Christine got it, then I got it). Scarlet really banged the hell out of her head running in the pavement. Sean, Miranda, and I watched "Star Trek 3: The Search for Plot--er, Spock," which caused a lot of discussion about scientific loopholes and generally just how bad acting some of these people are. But Sean was right, Christopher Lloyd makes a hell of a Klingon.