Tuesday, August 9, 2005
"I'll be cleaning you...
...in all the old familiar places..."
My mother prefers not to remember, from bowel movement to bowel movement, that I clean her afterwards. Thus, as she completes every elimination she asks for toilet paper and I remind her, yet again, that I'll be cleaning her, upon which she responds with an exaggerated scowl. This morning, on a whim, when she asked me for toilet paper, I burst into the above bit of song. She couldn't help but laugh.
Yesterday, I guess, was the day I recovered from our trip. I decided to take "a short nap" when Mom went down at 1400. I awoke, startled, at 1805, just as Mom was heading into the bathroom from her extended nap. I'm not sure whether Mom was recovering, too, or simply taking advantage of the all too infrequent occasions when I nap. At any rate, yesterday was a low key day for both of us. I had no energy and Mom was thrilled that I wasn't dashing around doing chores and suggesting activities for her.
Today, though, was a different story. I was fine. Mom's stats were fine but she was decidedly under the weather, probably literally, since it began raining this morning before she awoke, hasn't stopped and looks like it'll continue right on through evening. When I awoke her my intention was that we'd rev her up with a good breakfast, a hot game of Sorry and a forty minute or so exercise session, after which we'd settle in with Gone With the Wind, popcorn and mint cocoa (for her; I can't stand mint in anything). I announced this to her as I was rousing her. She didn't sound enthusiastic, but, then, enthusiasm is something that typically happens for my mother an hour or so after awakening. I remained undaunted.
Courtesy of my song dappled spirits we had a good, chatty bathing experience. Breakfast seemed to go well but I noticed offhand that she seemed to be a little slower on the uptake than usual. When we began the game after breakfast she was decidedly ditzy. Several times she'd draw a card, study the board then demand of me, "Where's the eleven?" or whatever number she'd drawn. Each time I'd explain that the number wasn't on the board, it was the number she needed to move one of her pieces. After a couple of repetitions of this I asked her, curiously, "What game are you playing, Mom?" as, it occurred to me that maybe, in her head, she was playing some old game with which I'm not familiar. Instead of checking what was going on in her head she turned one of the cards over and read the back of it out loud to me, "Sorry. We're playing Sorry, aren't we?" The question had a suspicious upturn at the end, as though she was thinking, "What game are you playing, Gail?!?"
When the game ended (she won, surprisingly), still determined, I announced, "Okay, now we're going to do exercises."
She exhaled heavily and gave me that, "Why don't you busy yourself elsewhere?" look.
"Come on Mom, you always feel better after you exercise, I know you'll feel better today."
"Better than what?" she deadpanned.
My response was to begin directing her from her seat at the table.
She decided she needed to go to the bathroom. Once there and finished with her business she lingered on the toilet. "I just don't want to get up," she said. "I'm so comfortable here."
"You want to take a nap, don't you."
She grinned up at me. Her eyes drooped in anticipation of settling into her bed.
Finally, I got it. Today wasn't going to be an energetic day for her. "Okay. You win."
"Again," she said, subtly reminding me of the trouncing I took on the Sorry board.
Sometimes you just can't fool Mother's nature.
My mother prefers not to remember, from bowel movement to bowel movement, that I clean her afterwards. Thus, as she completes every elimination she asks for toilet paper and I remind her, yet again, that I'll be cleaning her, upon which she responds with an exaggerated scowl. This morning, on a whim, when she asked me for toilet paper, I burst into the above bit of song. She couldn't help but laugh.
Yesterday, I guess, was the day I recovered from our trip. I decided to take "a short nap" when Mom went down at 1400. I awoke, startled, at 1805, just as Mom was heading into the bathroom from her extended nap. I'm not sure whether Mom was recovering, too, or simply taking advantage of the all too infrequent occasions when I nap. At any rate, yesterday was a low key day for both of us. I had no energy and Mom was thrilled that I wasn't dashing around doing chores and suggesting activities for her.
Today, though, was a different story. I was fine. Mom's stats were fine but she was decidedly under the weather, probably literally, since it began raining this morning before she awoke, hasn't stopped and looks like it'll continue right on through evening. When I awoke her my intention was that we'd rev her up with a good breakfast, a hot game of Sorry and a forty minute or so exercise session, after which we'd settle in with Gone With the Wind, popcorn and mint cocoa (for her; I can't stand mint in anything). I announced this to her as I was rousing her. She didn't sound enthusiastic, but, then, enthusiasm is something that typically happens for my mother an hour or so after awakening. I remained undaunted.
Courtesy of my song dappled spirits we had a good, chatty bathing experience. Breakfast seemed to go well but I noticed offhand that she seemed to be a little slower on the uptake than usual. When we began the game after breakfast she was decidedly ditzy. Several times she'd draw a card, study the board then demand of me, "Where's the eleven?" or whatever number she'd drawn. Each time I'd explain that the number wasn't on the board, it was the number she needed to move one of her pieces. After a couple of repetitions of this I asked her, curiously, "What game are you playing, Mom?" as, it occurred to me that maybe, in her head, she was playing some old game with which I'm not familiar. Instead of checking what was going on in her head she turned one of the cards over and read the back of it out loud to me, "Sorry. We're playing Sorry, aren't we?" The question had a suspicious upturn at the end, as though she was thinking, "What game are you playing, Gail?!?"
When the game ended (she won, surprisingly), still determined, I announced, "Okay, now we're going to do exercises."
She exhaled heavily and gave me that, "Why don't you busy yourself elsewhere?" look.
"Come on Mom, you always feel better after you exercise, I know you'll feel better today."
"Better than what?" she deadpanned.
My response was to begin directing her from her seat at the table.
She decided she needed to go to the bathroom. Once there and finished with her business she lingered on the toilet. "I just don't want to get up," she said. "I'm so comfortable here."
"You want to take a nap, don't you."
She grinned up at me. Her eyes drooped in anticipation of settling into her bed.
Finally, I got it. Today wasn't going to be an energetic day for her. "Okay. You win."
"Again," she said, subtly reminding me of the trouncing I took on the Sorry board.
Sometimes you just can't fool Mother's nature.
