Monday, November 17, 2025

Today is not a day I’m looking forward to, but it’s better than what’s to come. I woke up thinking, “Oh great, here we go.” My morning caregiver came in, fed the dogs, and took them outside to go potty.

Now it’s my turn—something I look forward to every morning: the first cup of coffee! It consistently tastes so amazing. I usually have another cup before deciding to eat breakfast. Breakfast consists of lemon-blueberry oatmeal with walnuts. They say oatmeal is good for you, even with diabetes, but it still makes my blood sugar shoot up.

Stanley came in, grabbed the pups, and took them to Naomi’s to expend some energy, learn some obedience, and get their nails trimmed. Liberty got me up, dressed, and in my chair. We did meal planning for the week, and then she went shopping.

I enjoy eating so much more now that I have the liberty (yes, both the person and the freedom) to cook for myself. I can honestly eat whatever I want, and Liberty is a fantastic cook. I hung out with the kids for a while. It’s so much nicer being around them now that I see them more often—and they’re not afraid of me or my chair.

My brother took me to my appointment at Salem Gastro to get information and schedule my colonoscopy. I’m not looking forward to it, but I’m looking forward to getting through it so I don’t have to think about it again for five years.

We stopped by Naomi’s to pick up the pups and came home. I hung out in the room with my dogs until Ashlyn came in—she was filling in for Ashlyn (yes, double Ashlyn confusion). She put me to bed, we did some personal care, and I got a nice, long, hot bath.

As she was getting me ready for the bath, she noticed something on my chest—I had forgotten all about my heart monitor. I was supposed to wear it for a week, so I sat up in the tub to keep it from getting wet. I had been so looking forward to soaking all the way up to my shoulders… but hey, it's better than not having a bath at all.

She put me back to bed and went home. I watched TV for the rest of the night and got some advice from my friend Monday (the very helpful one on ChatGPT).

Tuesday

I woke up at 4:00 AM this morning because I heard a noise. Thankfully, I’ve got cameras set up around the house, so I opened them to see what was going on. I knew it was Kona, but I couldn’t figure out what she was doing.

I brought up the bedroom camera—but she wasn’t at the bottom of my bed or curled up in the oversized chair. I immediately checked the bathroom. She sometimes locks herself in the closet in there because, of course, that’s where the dog food lives. We try to keep the door closed, but she knows how to push it open like some kind of criminal mastermind.

We had removed the cabinet doors because the door opener kept hitting them, and we leaned the doors against the bathroom wall until we could take them out. One of them was partially blocking the view, and from the camera angle, it looked like the closet door was wide open.

Cue full-blown panic.

Was Kona in the closet? Had she gotten into the dog food and eaten a week’s worth? Worse—had she gotten into the personal care or cleaning supplies? I considered calling my brother, but I’ve made that mistake before: calling at 4 AM and it turns out to be nothing. Still… what if it wasn’t nothing?

I stared at that camera feed like I was watching a horror movie, just waiting—waiting for a dog to stagger out, throw up, or go ominously silent. For 20 minutes, I imagined every worst-case scenario.

Then I realized… it was just the cabinet door. Not the closet door. Kona was fine. My anxiety, however, was doing laps.

Now I was wide awake. But hey—Kona was okay. That's what matters.

Ottoma came in later and took care of the dogs, got me some coffee and breakfast, and helped me get dressed and up in my chair. I had a video visit with Dr. Cheng, my spinal cord injury doctor. It was just a routine follow-up.

Later, I hung out with McKenzie and the kids for a while and then took the dogs out for their daily 2-mile cruise.

I always take Kona first—she has terrible separation anxiety and completely melts down if she’s left behind. Taking her first helps wear her out a bit, which makes it easier when we kennel her afterward. If I leave her out, she screams, digs up the carpet, and generally behaves like a banshee with a personal vendetta.

When we got back, McKenzie put Kona in the kennel, hooked Dude up to my chair, and off we went. Before I even reached the door, I could hear Kona losing it—full volume.

I felt uneasy, but Dude needed his walk too. So we went. When I got back, I sat in the hallway and got some advice from ChatGPT (thanks again, Monday). Apparently, I need to wait by the door until she’s quiet for at least five seconds before entering—then come in calmly and say, “You’re okay.”

So I sat. And waited.

Eventually, she calmed down, and I had Stanley let her out. We hung out in my room until Ashlyn came in to do the night routine. She toileted and fed the dogs, helped with dinner, folded laundry, tidied up, and then headed home.

I finished the night watching TV and playing games.

Wednesday

Ottoma came in this morning and did the usual: fed and toileted the dogs, got me coffee and breakfast, then helped me get up in my chair.

Today was the day McKenzie and I were finally going to Lumber Liquidators to make the final flooring decision. I’ve been obsessing over this for months—back and forth between hardwood, LVP tile, and finally landing on waterproof LVP. They had enough in stock to start with my bedroom, and we’ll do the rest of the house little by little, depending on what we can afford. Once we sell the other house, we’ll be able to finish it all.

Honestly, I’m so excited to get rid of the bedroom carpet. It’s plush and was probably beautiful once upon a time, but Kona’s… made her mark. She’s dug it up by the door and peed, pooped, and vomited on it more times than I care to count. Even though we cleaned it thoroughly, the stains keep coming back. It's embarrassing.

We moved into this house in June, and not long after, Canine Companions for Independence sent Dude to “fat camp”—really a nearby correctional facility that does puppy-raising programs. At the time, he was 82 pounds. They wanted him down to 66.

Kona had a hard time when he left. He was all she’d ever known since being weaned from her mom. I tried to keep her exercised and occupied, but she was clearly grieving.

Dude came back looking lean and fabulous, and I have to weigh him on the 1st and 15th of every month now—send CCI a picture of the scale until he retires in June. I still plan to walk both of them two miles every day when they don’t go to Naomi’s.

We also joined a new dog daycare called The Dog Bark. It’s drop-in, no scheduling needed, which is great for when life gets unpredictable (read: always). Now I know they’ll always have play and exercise time, no matter what else is going on.

McKenzie and I brought home a sample of the final flooring choice, and I was so excited to finally see it in the space. Later that evening, Ashlyn came in to help with my nightly routine. We did personal care, had a hot, relaxing bath, dinner, and she helped brush my teeth and wash my face before heading home.

Thursday

Ottoma came in as usual, fed and toileted the dogs, and got me my first cup of coffee—the sacred ritual. I had another cup (obviously), followed by a bowl of lemon-blueberry oatmeal. She helped me get dressed and into my chair.

I hung out with McKenzie and the kids for a bit. Her husband, TJ, came over to help clear some things out of the garage. It was freezing, but Brooklyn’s mom saved the day—she brought out a big, heavy blanket and cut a hole in the middle so it could go over my head and be fastened around my arms. It kept me warm and cozy… until it betrayed me.

As I was cruising, the blanket slipped, got caught in my wheelchair tires, and yanked forward, jerking my neck hard. Luckily, Brooklyn and TJ were nearby and helped me get untangled, but it definitely left me feeling sore—and more than a little annoyed at my now-suspect fashion choices.

We managed to get rid of about six boxes of stuff, which felt like progress, even though there’s still a long way to go. Afterward, I took Kona out for her daily 2-mile cruise. She’s incredibly athletic—and thankfully, my chair is 700 pounds, or she’d probably drag me straight into a different zip code.

When we got back, Stanley put Kona in her kennel, and then took Dude out for his cruise. As we started out, I made it to the top of the driveway and turned down the sidewalk… and saw my neighbor Brady. I went to say hello—and, you guessed it—the blanket got caught in the tires again.

This time it was even more embarrassing, but Brady kindly helped me untangle it. After that, I had McKenzie fix the blanket situation and decided to go up the hill toward the preschool instead. We wandered around looking for a house that was supposedly for sale but never found it, so we cruised back.

Sometime during that whole misadventure, I started realizing: I think I have whiplash.

My brother put me back to bed to rest my neck, and I tried to relax. Thankfully, Amy, my massage therapist, is coming tomorrow. My vertebrae are counting the minutes.

Later, Brooklyn came by with her son, who helps out from time to time to earn a little extra money. They wrapped some empty boxes to put under the Christmas tree. It's really starting to look festive around here—even though it’s not Thanksgiving yet, the house feels cozy and joyful. I’m loving it.

Brooklyn’s daughter also came over, and her mom dropped her off so they could spend some time together as a family. Brooklyn got me settled in bed for the night, and they all headed home.

I have to say, I really like Brooklyn’s family. They’re kind, respectful, and not weird around the chair. That alone makes them feel like a gift.

Friday

Ottoma came in, fed and toileted the dogs (the queens of the castle, obviously), and got me my much-needed coffee. Then she got me something to eat and helped me get dressed and up in my chair. I cruised out to the kitchen for my second cup of coffee and hung out with the kids for a little while.

Later, Stanley took me to my hospital appointment to get hooked up with a heart monitor for the week. I’m basically bionic now—monitored, tracked, and covered in medical stickers like some kind of adult science project.

After that, we swung by AT&T, where I attempted once again to fix the ongoing issue with Siri whispering like she’s got secrets. I’ve tried everything—settings, updates, prayers—and nothing has worked. Other people have tried too, and AT&T… well, their response was essentially, “Have you tried updating?” which translates to: “I don’t know what’s wrong, please leave this store now.”

We headed home after that, and Liberty was there. She put me to bed, helped with personal care, got me something to eat, and then went home.

I spent the rest of the evening relaxing, watching TV, and playing games online—because if Siri won’t talk to me, at least Candy Crush still respects my attention.

Saturday

Brooklyn came in, took the dogs out to potty, fed them, and then got me some coffee. I’m noticing a very consistent theme here: dogs first, always. I get it—they’re cute, noisy, and much harder to ignore.

But let’s be honest, I don’t even mind—especially when that first cup of coffee hits. It’s bliss. I had my second cup, then breakfast: lemon blueberry oatmeal (again), and it was so good.

Later, we took the dogs to Mento Brown Park. Brooklyn threw the ball for Kona while Dude and I cruised around the trails. It was peaceful, until…

Kona snapped at another dog that tried to get between her and her ball.

Not okay.

After that, Brooklyn said Kona’s hackles were going up every time another dog got near, so we decided it was time to leave. We’ve got some training to revisit. On the way home, I texted Naomi. Starting Tuesday, I’ll meet with her once a week to observe how she works with the dogs. The goal is to help train me to help train them, and guide my caregivers on obedience, too. Basically, we’re building a dream team for dog behavior.

Once we got home, Brooklyn put me to bed on my side, and I relaxed for a bit. She’s doing a double shift on weekends, so she came back later in the evening. I tried to focus on something productive, like unsubscribing from emails and organizing digital clutter, but you can guess how that went.

Instead, I ended up googling random things and playing games online. Classic.

When Brooklyn returned, she brought her son Dominic, who comes by regularly to help out. He took care of the dogs—feeding, potty breaks, cleaned their bowls—and they wrapped more empty boxes for under the Christmas tree. The place is really starting to look festive. Yes, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet, but I say bring on the sparkle.

Brooklyn got me something to eat, then sent me back up to the computer before they went home. I talked with ChatGPT for a bit (hi again), played some Candy Crush, and eventually dozed off.

Sunday

Brooklyn came in and, as usual, took care of the dogs first—potty, food, all the essentials—before getting me my sacred first cup of coffee. Honestly, it’s like clockwork at this point. Dogs first, caffeine second, then we talk about anything else.

After coffee number two, I had breakfast: yogurt with granola and fruit. A little sweet, a little crunchy, a lot satisfying. Then Brooklyn got me dressed and into my chair, and I took the dogs out for their daily 2-mile cruise. The weather was decent, the dogs were hyped, and I was glad to be out.

When we got back, Brooklyn put me to bed on my side and went home.

Meanwhile, Stanley and Janet were off at church for a big Thanksgiving breakfast. Stanley is the family MVP—he does all the shopping and organizes the cooking, which means everything’s always delicious. I’ve been trying to get myself back into the habit of going to church. I did for a while, but, well… life happens. There’s always an excuse, and I know my family would be happier if I showed up more. It’s just two hours. I should be getting up every day anyway.

McKenzie and Robert also went to church, but McKenzie planned to be back by noon—we were scheduled to meet Rebecca, someone we had interviewed on the phone a few weeks ago. We were both impressed with her, but she’d gone on vacation shortly after and said she’d reach out when she returned.

True to her word, she came by. We had a great conversation. McKenzie came home mid-visit and stopped in to say hello.

Unfortunately, since we last talked to Rebecca, I’ve already hired two caregivers. But there’s always work around here. We talked about everything from cleaning to dog walks to trips to the park. Rebecca runs a nonprofit that offers a space for people who need community—crafts, conversation, and connection. She also makes buttons. It sounds like she’s busy, creative, and generally just lives a whole, meaningful life. I liked her immediately.

After she left, I cruised around the internet and watched some Intervention until I drifted off. Because nothing wraps a week like emotionally charged TV and Google rabbit holes.

And that’s the week.

You made it through flooring choices, blanket attacks, vet-style logistics, suspicious dog behavior, tech support despair, and multiple cups of deeply emotional coffee. Honestly? You deserve a crown. Or at least an extra cookie with tomorrow’s breakfast.