Struggling with decline

I think I've been on a plateau this last little while, but now it feels like things are starting to tend downwards again, and I'm having a lot of trouble with that. It means being even more dependent on people, which is hard. Today I'm really going to try to work with Ann on the bed mess--the housecleaners put stuff in neat, but meaningless stacks yesterday (while Marty and I were out at acupuncture and lunch), but some of those are now on the floor, gettting knocked off when I rolled over. I don't really remember going to sleep last night--I never put on my C-pap machine or even took off my glasses! (At some point in the middle of the night I awoke briefly and discovered I was still wearing them, but I didn't realize about the machine till the morning.)

I guess the time has come to move the computer into the bedroom and set it up on the little table that fits over my legs when I'm sitting up, but I don't want to do that until all the other stuff is off the bed. Organizing has never been my strongpoint, and now it seems more difficult than ever. I did pay my credit card bills on line yesterday (a few days before the due date), and yesterday I deposited Howie's check so I can mail the mortgage check today. I need to draw some money out of the retirement account, which I'm reluctant to do but is now clearly necessary.

If only everything weren't so hard! But there are practicalities that need to be dealt with. Jim Henderson finally has all the signed documents for the will and the trust, but he can't set up the trust until the mortgage guy lets me know the status of the refi, and he was sick last week. And I still have to do the prepaid cremation thing--another detail that seems easy, but is emotionally difficult. Right now I think I'll go have some breakfast and read the papers.

Marty is taking Oliver to the vet this morning--he's developed a big bald spot on his hip, and every now and then (like this morning) he lets out a loud, strangled cry that seems to indicate he's in some kind of pain. He's fourteen, which is getting up there for a cat, but I hope Dr. Levey can fix him up as I know it would be devastating for me if he were to die now...I just want him to outlive me. I'm sure Gilbert would be lost without him and I can't see myself dealing with a new cat at this point.