Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Well, I must get paper underwear...
...we're running out and we can't run out of that! So here I am, up, showered, shivering, I just medicated the hell out of myself (three ibuprofen to address body aches, to settle my throat a little so I can talk and lower what I imagine is a low grade fever; one diphenhydramine to turn off the sinus faucet, one shot of Clear Eyes so that I don't look as though I am suffering from malarial delirium...and off to Costco. For a very short trip. Damn, she goes through these things fast. I just got a box of the Large size a few days ago and we're needing more. That size is the size by which I double her up when she sleeps, though, and, well, although she has been sleeping at the more generous end of her sleep scale she's also been doing it in more than two sessions a day. A little nap here, a little nap there, if I hear her heading for the bathroom in the middle of the night, which she's been doing a lot, lately, thanks to the Detrol, which amplifies her bladder's signals that she needs to urinate, thus, awakens her so she urinates in the bathroom and not in her bed; although, unfortunately, she has an old bladder that sometimes says, "Ah, to hell with it, I'm comfortable, she's old, she doesn't want to get up, I'll just unload here."
I remember remarking yesterday to my mother while I was once again squatting between her legs coaxing her feet, one by one, through the holes in a pair of paper underwear, "Seems like I've been spending an awful lot of time squatting at your feet, lately, Mrs. Hudson. I'll be glad when your urinary tract infection is cleared up."
The combination of her memory dementia, her continued intelligence and her life experience (which remains intact) sometimes expresses itself in an automatic, mindless wisdom, especially when her attention is elsewhere. It did yesterday morning in response to what I said above: "Well, don't worry, you'll find something else to do to me that'll require this of you."
We also had a new edition of our "You Won't Ever Be Able to Take a Bath Again" conversation. She initiated it. "I sure do miss taking a bath," she said.
"I know. It's not a question of strength anymore, Mom. Now it's because of your pronounced tendency toward urinary tract infections. Do you understand how it is this works?"
"I know, I know."
"I've got an idea, though. If we can find just the right sized raiser, it might work in this bathtub; once you were squeaky clean all over..."
...she knows what this means...she shudders when I say this...
"...I don't see any reason why you can't sit in a tub of hot water right after your bath."
"Will there be enough hot water for that?!?"
"Oops! Good point. No. When we start looking into having the bathroom remodeled we should consider getting a larger water heater or maybe having one of those new ones that heat water as needed super quick."
She looked at me in confusion. "Bathroom remodeled?!? Who's idea was that?!?"
I'm not fazed. This happens all the time, sometimes in the worst of circumstances. "Well, actually, Ken first suggested it. You and I have discussed changes we'd like to make. Remember when we got some ideas from that handicapped shower in the Motel 6?"
"I'm not handicapped!"
"You're also not an athlete and athletes pamper themselves with amenities that make physical life easier and more pleasant. Why shouldn't you?"
"Well, when you put it that way..."
Oh, man, I don't want to do this today. Luckily, I've got an hour before I actually have to go.
Mom is finally 'getting better'. I can see it. She is awakening earlier. It is not uncommon for me to place breakfast in front of her before noon. In case she awakens today, I'll rouse her before I leave, let her know what I'm doing, tell her she "can sleep until I get back, between 1100 and 1130, and I'll wake you up." This relaxes her and, normally, she either awakens as the car drives into the carport, or her eyes are open when I dash in the house to check on her before I unload the car.
I'm hoping moving around will jog me into feeling a little better or, at least, a little more lubricated. The Little Girl was not on my bed this morning when I awoke which means I had a really restless night. And, of course, I set my alarm. When it went off I was in a sort of down comforter womb in a fetal position, shivering. Aching...ohhhhn. Good day to watch Jacob's Ladder.
I made that muffin mix berry thing. It turned out kind of like a stiff berry custard. It was delicious with freshly hand whipped (with a whisk) cream. I started writing down the recipe but decided that it really was a little too weird to publish. I can't guarantee that it will always turn out the way it turned out last night.
Later.
I remember remarking yesterday to my mother while I was once again squatting between her legs coaxing her feet, one by one, through the holes in a pair of paper underwear, "Seems like I've been spending an awful lot of time squatting at your feet, lately, Mrs. Hudson. I'll be glad when your urinary tract infection is cleared up."
The combination of her memory dementia, her continued intelligence and her life experience (which remains intact) sometimes expresses itself in an automatic, mindless wisdom, especially when her attention is elsewhere. It did yesterday morning in response to what I said above: "Well, don't worry, you'll find something else to do to me that'll require this of you."
We also had a new edition of our "You Won't Ever Be Able to Take a Bath Again" conversation. She initiated it. "I sure do miss taking a bath," she said.
"I know. It's not a question of strength anymore, Mom. Now it's because of your pronounced tendency toward urinary tract infections. Do you understand how it is this works?"
"I know, I know."
"I've got an idea, though. If we can find just the right sized raiser, it might work in this bathtub; once you were squeaky clean all over..."
...she knows what this means...she shudders when I say this...
"...I don't see any reason why you can't sit in a tub of hot water right after your bath."
"Will there be enough hot water for that?!?"
"Oops! Good point. No. When we start looking into having the bathroom remodeled we should consider getting a larger water heater or maybe having one of those new ones that heat water as needed super quick."
She looked at me in confusion. "Bathroom remodeled?!? Who's idea was that?!?"
I'm not fazed. This happens all the time, sometimes in the worst of circumstances. "Well, actually, Ken first suggested it. You and I have discussed changes we'd like to make. Remember when we got some ideas from that handicapped shower in the Motel 6?"
"I'm not handicapped!"
"You're also not an athlete and athletes pamper themselves with amenities that make physical life easier and more pleasant. Why shouldn't you?"
"Well, when you put it that way..."
Oh, man, I don't want to do this today. Luckily, I've got an hour before I actually have to go.
Mom is finally 'getting better'. I can see it. She is awakening earlier. It is not uncommon for me to place breakfast in front of her before noon. In case she awakens today, I'll rouse her before I leave, let her know what I'm doing, tell her she "can sleep until I get back, between 1100 and 1130, and I'll wake you up." This relaxes her and, normally, she either awakens as the car drives into the carport, or her eyes are open when I dash in the house to check on her before I unload the car.
I'm hoping moving around will jog me into feeling a little better or, at least, a little more lubricated. The Little Girl was not on my bed this morning when I awoke which means I had a really restless night. And, of course, I set my alarm. When it went off I was in a sort of down comforter womb in a fetal position, shivering. Aching...ohhhhn. Good day to watch Jacob's Ladder.
I made that muffin mix berry thing. It turned out kind of like a stiff berry custard. It was delicious with freshly hand whipped (with a whisk) cream. I started writing down the recipe but decided that it really was a little too weird to publish. I can't guarantee that it will always turn out the way it turned out last night.
Later.
