Sunday, November 20, 2005
Much of Mom's day...
...centered around her body's recovery from the furosemide flushing that I initiated last night. Those details can be accessed at yesterday's and today's posts at Mom's Daily Tests & Meds. The flushing and replenishment of fluids, along with some extra Benefiber®, caused her to go through a typical wrung-out-rag to moderately-moisturized-rag episode that happens when I flush excess fluid off her. It was hard, this time, to tell that she was retaining water. The process happened slowly, over the last week. I'd examine her every morning and every night and she would seem fine to me in the context of what I'd seen the day before, so it sneaked up on me. I'm hoping this is an isolated episode. I don't want to be administering furosemide to her on a regular basis unless the alternative is much worse. As I mentioned to her this morning, furosemide really takes the stuffing out of her.
Yesterday was dominated by Mr. Everything's first visit of the season. There was a lot of yard clean-up for him, some electrical work inside the house, and he worked like a Mr. Clean demon. He finds it hard to accept that I don't want the yard whistle clean, that I want dying weeds and stuff left where they are and that I appreciate the large, unruly kindling pile in the back as what it's become this fall, an "apartment house" for a large number of Gambel's Quail, wood squirrels (which used to take up residence in our crawl space and between the walls of our house, harvesting insulation for their nests) and grey squirrels. Our property is a happy home for hundreds of small creatures, earthbound, airbound and inbetween, and I like keeping it this way. In order to do this properly, I think, the best way is to allow some "mess" (not as much as usually piles up in our yard) and a distinct lack of strict domestication. I explained all this to Mr. Everything yesterday and he's beginning to get it. I know it's hard for him: His father-in-law owns a local landscaping company, from which he learned this particular trade, so it's hard for him to accept a wild yard.
Mom awoke early (for her) yesterday because she was excited about watching Mr. Everything work. As he moved his work into and out of the house she chatted with him. The big event was the removal of the dying ornamental plum tree directly in front of our house. Although he decided to leave the roots in because he noticed that the tree, as he was cutting it away, was disintegrating from the inside out, thus the roots are not bound to revive, he cut it off deep below the soil line and restored the retained area so that you can't even tell a tree was there.
Today was a slow day for Mom, recuperating, as she was, from flushing. It went well, though, and she was in an excellent mood. I started her out on oxygen, as she's been using it a lot through the day lately (which is a change from about a week and a half ago). She became irritated with it, though, and took the cannula off. I waited to see if she was going to mouth breathe, as she's been doing this a lot lately. She was fine, breathing normally through her nose all of the afternoon and evening that she was up. I let her sleep in today, as she was up at least twice in the night peeing (because of the furosemide, I'm sure), and was resting nicely this morning. I became nervous, though, around 1300 and awoke her. She had slept herself into a stupor but once we got her going she was fine, and thirsty.
When I mentioned, tonight, that I need to buy supplies for pie-making for our Thanksgiving visits she expressed interest in going along. This, in itself, is the best sign. We'll see, of course, but she's excited about Thanksgiving and the trip. I'll keep my eye on her to make sure that we nip any signs of continuing torso fluid retention in the bud and she enjoys an alert, energetic holiday.
When she retired, tonight, I mentioned to her how good she was looking and that I thought we'd negotiated the fluid retention problem well.
"I was retaining fluid?" she asked.
"Yeah, but I didn't understand what was going on until yesterday, because it happened so slowly this time. I gave you a 'water pill' for it last night and that's why you were so tired today; I flushed you out. That's also why you had a meal so high in sodium and potassium things tonight."
She shook her head in amazement. "You mean you actually take all that into consideration when you feed me."
"Oh, yeah, Mom. With every meal. Nothing goes into your mouth that I haven't already calculated from a nutrition and body effect standpoint. I've been doing that for at least half the time I've been with you, so that would be, hmm, about five and a half years."
She thought for a moment. "You've been with me for eleven years?!?"
"Yeah. That's right."
"Goodness! It doesn't seem possible!"
"Well, it is."
"Well, I hope you plan to stay around. You know how I am about meals on my own, I just eat whatever's handy, whether it's good for me or not, whether I like it or not."
"Well, that hasn't been necessary for a long time, and it won't ever be necessary again."
"So, you've decided to stay?"
"Yeah, Mom. I'm staying. I'll be here for the rest of your life."
"Well, good. I've never eaten better."
It's the little things...
Later.
Yesterday was dominated by Mr. Everything's first visit of the season. There was a lot of yard clean-up for him, some electrical work inside the house, and he worked like a Mr. Clean demon. He finds it hard to accept that I don't want the yard whistle clean, that I want dying weeds and stuff left where they are and that I appreciate the large, unruly kindling pile in the back as what it's become this fall, an "apartment house" for a large number of Gambel's Quail, wood squirrels (which used to take up residence in our crawl space and between the walls of our house, harvesting insulation for their nests) and grey squirrels. Our property is a happy home for hundreds of small creatures, earthbound, airbound and inbetween, and I like keeping it this way. In order to do this properly, I think, the best way is to allow some "mess" (not as much as usually piles up in our yard) and a distinct lack of strict domestication. I explained all this to Mr. Everything yesterday and he's beginning to get it. I know it's hard for him: His father-in-law owns a local landscaping company, from which he learned this particular trade, so it's hard for him to accept a wild yard.
Mom awoke early (for her) yesterday because she was excited about watching Mr. Everything work. As he moved his work into and out of the house she chatted with him. The big event was the removal of the dying ornamental plum tree directly in front of our house. Although he decided to leave the roots in because he noticed that the tree, as he was cutting it away, was disintegrating from the inside out, thus the roots are not bound to revive, he cut it off deep below the soil line and restored the retained area so that you can't even tell a tree was there.
Today was a slow day for Mom, recuperating, as she was, from flushing. It went well, though, and she was in an excellent mood. I started her out on oxygen, as she's been using it a lot through the day lately (which is a change from about a week and a half ago). She became irritated with it, though, and took the cannula off. I waited to see if she was going to mouth breathe, as she's been doing this a lot lately. She was fine, breathing normally through her nose all of the afternoon and evening that she was up. I let her sleep in today, as she was up at least twice in the night peeing (because of the furosemide, I'm sure), and was resting nicely this morning. I became nervous, though, around 1300 and awoke her. She had slept herself into a stupor but once we got her going she was fine, and thirsty.
When I mentioned, tonight, that I need to buy supplies for pie-making for our Thanksgiving visits she expressed interest in going along. This, in itself, is the best sign. We'll see, of course, but she's excited about Thanksgiving and the trip. I'll keep my eye on her to make sure that we nip any signs of continuing torso fluid retention in the bud and she enjoys an alert, energetic holiday.
When she retired, tonight, I mentioned to her how good she was looking and that I thought we'd negotiated the fluid retention problem well.
"I was retaining fluid?" she asked.
"Yeah, but I didn't understand what was going on until yesterday, because it happened so slowly this time. I gave you a 'water pill' for it last night and that's why you were so tired today; I flushed you out. That's also why you had a meal so high in sodium and potassium things tonight."
She shook her head in amazement. "You mean you actually take all that into consideration when you feed me."
"Oh, yeah, Mom. With every meal. Nothing goes into your mouth that I haven't already calculated from a nutrition and body effect standpoint. I've been doing that for at least half the time I've been with you, so that would be, hmm, about five and a half years."
She thought for a moment. "You've been with me for eleven years?!?"
"Yeah. That's right."
"Goodness! It doesn't seem possible!"
"Well, it is."
"Well, I hope you plan to stay around. You know how I am about meals on my own, I just eat whatever's handy, whether it's good for me or not, whether I like it or not."
"Well, that hasn't been necessary for a long time, and it won't ever be necessary again."
"So, you've decided to stay?"
"Yeah, Mom. I'm staying. I'll be here for the rest of your life."
"Well, good. I've never eaten better."
It's the little things...
Later.
