Friday, July 1, 2005
Oh, that's right...
...I have dinner stats from yesterday. I'll do that later.
My mother was in bed most of the day, yesterday. I left her alone although I checked on her at least every half hour, sometimes every 15 minutes. A couple of times she'd open her eyes, I'd ask her if she wanted to get up or stay in bed, she'd mumble, "Stay in bed," and I'd return 15 minutes to a half hour later. She arose at around 1500. I know. Long time no hydration. Or movement. She did get herself to the bathroom a couple of times, I noticed, but still soaked the bed.
When she was up on end she was pink and perky. Didn't indulge herself in a nap. She retired around 2300. Oh, yeah, we watched that HBO movie, The Girl in the Café. Interesting characterizations. It was one of those "I insist" movies, so Mom was stuck with it whether she enjoyed it or not. Although it was a darker, literally bluer, type of movie than Mom's voiced preference, she liked it. Noticed Iceland. Asked if I might want to visit there. I replied, "Yes, if we can stop in Finland either going or coming." We made a pact for the future.
Her appetite was good. No vomitting, no nausea. I was expecting neither. She wasn't as dehydrated as I thought she would be. During her waking hours (I reminded her a couple of times that "in the last 24 hours [she'd] been awake and on end exactly six, to which she smiled beatifically and said, "I know, isn't it wonderful?!"), which did not include a nap, she ate two hearty meals, one a standard breakfast, took her pills as necessary (since she arose so late I skipped her iron supplement in favor of the antibiotics, which dose, at her breakfast time yesterday, was spaced exactly 24 hours from the last dose). There were 6 hours (or so) between her breakfast and her dinner. Between the two meals she had a peach and an 11.5 oz glass of V-8 juice. She got her cranberry juice in at dinner. Oh, yeah. I made her a Honeybaked Ham sandwich with sharp yellow cheddar on whole grain bread for dinner. Grilled it.
She didn't move much but watched TV avidly all evening. I meant to do her hair but we were enjoying ourselves so much I forgot. I suggested once that maybe she could move out to the dinette and I could beat the pants (although she wasn't wearing pants) off her in a couple games of Sorry. She wasn't having any.
I forgot to say, "Rabbit, rabbit." I think the first thing I said, this morning, was, "Little Girl," as I called her to breakfast. Mom's first word, uttered earlier this morning when my search for our cat disturbed her, was, "Okay," in response to me telling her she could go back to sleep. But, that's okay. I feel lucky, this month.
I've been baking bread again, even though the afternoons, over the last few days, have been hot enough to run the a/c for a few hours. Mom prefers to sleep in her room, which probably hovers between 85°F - 90°F. She likes it like that. I think it keeps her joints warm.
So, let me get over and record some stats for last night.
Later.
My mother was in bed most of the day, yesterday. I left her alone although I checked on her at least every half hour, sometimes every 15 minutes. A couple of times she'd open her eyes, I'd ask her if she wanted to get up or stay in bed, she'd mumble, "Stay in bed," and I'd return 15 minutes to a half hour later. She arose at around 1500. I know. Long time no hydration. Or movement. She did get herself to the bathroom a couple of times, I noticed, but still soaked the bed.
When she was up on end she was pink and perky. Didn't indulge herself in a nap. She retired around 2300. Oh, yeah, we watched that HBO movie, The Girl in the Café. Interesting characterizations. It was one of those "I insist" movies, so Mom was stuck with it whether she enjoyed it or not. Although it was a darker, literally bluer, type of movie than Mom's voiced preference, she liked it. Noticed Iceland. Asked if I might want to visit there. I replied, "Yes, if we can stop in Finland either going or coming." We made a pact for the future.
Her appetite was good. No vomitting, no nausea. I was expecting neither. She wasn't as dehydrated as I thought she would be. During her waking hours (I reminded her a couple of times that "in the last 24 hours [she'd] been awake and on end exactly six, to which she smiled beatifically and said, "I know, isn't it wonderful?!"), which did not include a nap, she ate two hearty meals, one a standard breakfast, took her pills as necessary (since she arose so late I skipped her iron supplement in favor of the antibiotics, which dose, at her breakfast time yesterday, was spaced exactly 24 hours from the last dose). There were 6 hours (or so) between her breakfast and her dinner. Between the two meals she had a peach and an 11.5 oz glass of V-8 juice. She got her cranberry juice in at dinner. Oh, yeah. I made her a Honeybaked Ham sandwich with sharp yellow cheddar on whole grain bread for dinner. Grilled it.
She didn't move much but watched TV avidly all evening. I meant to do her hair but we were enjoying ourselves so much I forgot. I suggested once that maybe she could move out to the dinette and I could beat the pants (although she wasn't wearing pants) off her in a couple games of Sorry. She wasn't having any.
I forgot to say, "Rabbit, rabbit." I think the first thing I said, this morning, was, "Little Girl," as I called her to breakfast. Mom's first word, uttered earlier this morning when my search for our cat disturbed her, was, "Okay," in response to me telling her she could go back to sleep. But, that's okay. I feel lucky, this month.
I've been baking bread again, even though the afternoons, over the last few days, have been hot enough to run the a/c for a few hours. Mom prefers to sleep in her room, which probably hovers between 85°F - 90°F. She likes it like that. I think it keeps her joints warm.
So, let me get over and record some stats for last night.
Later.
