Monday, May 5, 2025 - Day 265

Monday, May 5, 2025

Good morning! Another Monday, another week for to get up and do what I can…that’s the plan.

Lately, there’s been a steady stream of Prey novels by John Sandford showing up at the house—Amazon deliveries, no note, just one book after another. There are 35 in the series. I just finished book #2, Shadow Prey over the weekend. I don’t know who sent them or why, and nothing in the writing so far gives me a clue. The genre is familiar—crime, procedural, a little dark, sometimes very dark—but Sandford’s a new author to me. Not sure how I missed him, he’s been writing these since 1989, the year Nicole was born. A clue, maybe?

Then Fred, my neighbor, shows up on Saturday with a book he just finished—Broken Prey—also Sandford. I had to laugh. “That one’s #16,” I told him. “I’m only on #2.” I explained how these books keep appearing at the house, and he was just as puzzled. I told him thanks and gave it back. I’m reading them in order so far and whoever is sending them, clearly wants me to.

Different mystery: my wardrobe. During the bathroom remodel, Cindy finally had me confront the closet. Too many clothes, not enough space, and no, “it might come back in style” is not a reason to keep a shirt from 1999. With everything pulled out for the new flooring, we had nowhere to put the excess. So we went through all of them and off to Goodwill they went, before I could have a change of heart. I kept what I wear and made room for things that make sense now. This exercise will likely happen again as things change with ALS. It’s music to Cindy’s ears…the clothing purge, not the ALS.

Which brings me to buttons. One of the early signs that something was wrong last year was my sudden inability to button a shirt. We were getting ready for family photos in August when we were in Minocqua, and I just couldn’t fasten any buttons. That was the beginning of, “Honey, can you help me?” I’ve since bought a button-assist tool, and it helps—at least for getting dressed. Unbuttoning is harder. If Cindy’s already asleep, I’ve had to pop the buttons so I could get ready for bed. I don’t want to sleep in my day wear, I might be accused of “passing out”.

Zack heard that story and didn’t just nod sympathetically—he took action. Soon after, a box arrived. Inside: adaptive clothing from MagnaReady. Shirts that look like they have buttons, but actually close with magnets. It’s a small change that makes a big difference. Getting dressed, undressed, even making it to the bathroom in time—easier now. No more wrestling with zippers and dancing the jig, testing my kegel muscles, while the bladder’s on a timer. They look good, too. Thanks, Zack.

Speaking of life changes. Later today, I’ve got a call with Peggy, my care coordinator, to talk about a feeding tube. I can still eat anything I want, but this is the window—before I can’t—to think it through. Early on, the idea of a feeding tube felt like a hard stop. A no-go. But now? It’s just another tool. Not a failure. Not a surrender. It’s one more way to stay in the fight and live with some control. I’ll hear what she says.

Have a great Monday

Love you guys! ❤️