Saturday, January 15, 2005
An Extraordinary Awakening
Although I allowed my mother, with some trepidation (because she's been sleeping so much, lately), to sleep until noon today, wonder of wonders, her urinary leakage was amazingly minimal! It was so insignificant that I realized if I'd awakened her at 1000 her sheets and pajamas would probably have been dry. I did notice that it appeared as though she'd awakened in the middle of the night to urinate, which she's been doing for, oh, the last week or so, even before I began treating her for a urinary tract infection, which is a very good sign. It means she's consciously noticing her bladder's signals and responding to them. This morning I could have danced!
One instance does not a pattern create, of course. Now I'm wondering if maybe, aside from all the e coli infections she's been experiencing since undergoing the blatant, extended and unnecessary catheterizations, perhaps she's had a "deeper" infection in her urinary tract that Levaquin wasn't addressing. Maybe she needed Augmentin, although in a much lower dose that originally prescribed, to address something else that's gone untreated for a long time. Maybe, finally, it's being treated.
I'm very excited about tomorrow morning [ahh, the life of an Ancient One Caregiver, getting excited about urination and defecation habits of one's loved one]. Although she was specific tonight that I "let her sleep in" tomorrow morning (I won't let her sleep past noon, as usual), I'm going to check her very carefully several times before I awaken her to see if her bladder is functioning better than it has for over a year. I'm hopeful, but, of course, cautious. It's not that she's not shedding, it's that she's shedding much less than previously. I don't think it's simply the cut back on water, either, because I've upped her fluid intake from its recent cutback, as per the standard practice when administering both antibiotics and acetaminophen to the elderly. As well, she's thirsty on her own so she's probably been receiving pretty close to 2 liters of liquid per day between what I choose to give her and the instant decaf coffee she drinks.
I forgot to mention: Last night, while we were preparing her for bed, she once again expressed concern about next year's teaching job. "It's a new year," she said, which surprised me...I was sure she wasn't aware of this. "I've got to decide where I'm going to teach next year."
I thought about it hard for some seconds before I decided how to respond. As you know, when I can't see any reason not to, I enter into her version of the world. But remembering how, over a period of several days of doing this within the last few months, she became very agitated and confused, I decided, no, I'm not going to set this one up again. So, I took the straight and narrow path. "Mom," I said, "no, you don't have to worry about where you're going to teach next year. You're 87, it's been decades since you taught last and you are no longer up to teaching. Relax. You don't have to worry about that anymore."
Her initial reaction was to look at me as though I'd gone crazy. It's the funniest experience...to correct someone's view of the world and have them think you're the one who's insane. She has a particular expression, halfway between worry and shock that always registers when we have these kinds of conversations. I have to stifle a laugh when this happens.
After a few seconds she suddenly snapped back into the non-teaching, 87 year old reality and said, "Oh! Well, good! That's been worrying me! I guess I can relax next year! Good! I could use a rest!"
"Yes, Mom. You can relax. You can sleep in mornings and do whatever you want during the day."
"Sounds wonderful!"
You just gotta love her.
Today was the first of two Dog Show Evenings. The entire day was geared toward watching the first part of the Eukanuba Tournament of Champions this evening, including the pre-tournament hour-long show about the competition. She would love to have a dog "for The Little Girl" (as though The Little Girl would love having a dog around) and suggested it several times tonight, each time she saw a breed she liked. I'd like us to have a Newfoundland: Get one as a puppy and let The Little Girl raise it so that they'd get along really well together. But, finally, as I've done before, when the show was over and we talked about getting a dog I had to resort to realism and explain to her that there is only one caregiver in this household and the last thing that caregiver needs is a dog.
"Oh," she countered, as she always does, "we'd get used to it, it wouldn't be anymore work. You just work those kinds of things in. You just do it. I'd help."
"Mom, that's not the way it would happen. I know in a normal family that's how it happens. That's how it always happened in our family. But we had several people capable of caregiving living in the same place. Now, we've only got one. And, believe me, I know what I can and can't do in the way of taking on yet another charge. Maybe another cat if there comes a time when The Little Girl no longer enjoys being The Queen and seems to want company of her own kind (although, frankly, I doubt this will happen now; she's very comfortable being the only cat) or if I obviously run across The-Big-Girl-come-back as a brand new cat and she wants to live with us, again. But, a dog, no, even though I'd love to have one. Not a good time for that."
"Well, I suppose you're right. Maybe when I'm feeling better and can take it for walks."
"That's a good idea. We'll reconsider when you're feeling better."
AWe left it at that.
Soon after we had this conversation while I was cleaning in the kitchen after dinner I wondered how often it happens that a lone caregiver to an Ancient One or someone else with special needs decides to bring a new animal (as a pet, not as a working animal) that requires much more care than a cat or a fish into the home because it seems as though it would benefit the care recipient, then, after the fact, realizes that the added work load works against a serene caregiving atmosphere. People need to be realistic and absolutely honest with themselves and others about the effect of upping their caregiving load in the name of pleasing a loved one. When The Big Girl was sick but it looked as though she might recover (which, unfortunately, was a chimera) the main concern I expressed to the vet was that, considering how much care my mother required, I had strong doubts about my ability to care for The Big Girl as her needs intensified and be able to continue to do justice to my mother and The Little Girl and myself. The vet was shocked at first but she's "a good egg". She thought about it and suggested the possibility of foster care until The Big Girl could successfully fit back into our home. Of course, first of all, whether The Big Girl would even have accepted foster care, considering how cautious and scared she was of any change in her environment, was highly debatable. So,though, was the possibility of me being able to successfully care for my mother and two cats, one of which was quite ill and the other of which hated the sick one and wanted to rip her apart because she was sick. Everything, of course, was resolved when it was discovered that The Big Girl was too far gone to recover anyway.
But, you know, caregiving alone often requires very difficult, painful decisions of a type that no one can anticipate when one decides to become an Intense Needs Caregiver. On the one hand the caregiver's heart grows admirably in size and strength and becomes capable of unusual feats of love and endurance; On the other, it is automatically exposed to more dimensions of damage and breakage than the independent heart is capable of imagining. I know I'm not saying anything new, I'm not saying anything most parents don't know. But as I consider this I am even more astounded that we, in this country, as a society, for the most part, have so little awareness of and give so little support to the situation of caregivers of all stripes. How is it that we have allowed ourselves to become so narrow in focus that we think "One Primary Caregiver per Household" even begins to address the actual human condition?!? Those who suffer in silence and consider it sucking it up and being brave are doing neither themselves nor our society any favors.
Oh well. Time for bed.
Later.
One instance does not a pattern create, of course. Now I'm wondering if maybe, aside from all the e coli infections she's been experiencing since undergoing the blatant, extended and unnecessary catheterizations, perhaps she's had a "deeper" infection in her urinary tract that Levaquin wasn't addressing. Maybe she needed Augmentin, although in a much lower dose that originally prescribed, to address something else that's gone untreated for a long time. Maybe, finally, it's being treated.
I'm very excited about tomorrow morning [ahh, the life of an Ancient One Caregiver, getting excited about urination and defecation habits of one's loved one]. Although she was specific tonight that I "let her sleep in" tomorrow morning (I won't let her sleep past noon, as usual), I'm going to check her very carefully several times before I awaken her to see if her bladder is functioning better than it has for over a year. I'm hopeful, but, of course, cautious. It's not that she's not shedding, it's that she's shedding much less than previously. I don't think it's simply the cut back on water, either, because I've upped her fluid intake from its recent cutback, as per the standard practice when administering both antibiotics and acetaminophen to the elderly. As well, she's thirsty on her own so she's probably been receiving pretty close to 2 liters of liquid per day between what I choose to give her and the instant decaf coffee she drinks.
I forgot to mention: Last night, while we were preparing her for bed, she once again expressed concern about next year's teaching job. "It's a new year," she said, which surprised me...I was sure she wasn't aware of this. "I've got to decide where I'm going to teach next year."
I thought about it hard for some seconds before I decided how to respond. As you know, when I can't see any reason not to, I enter into her version of the world. But remembering how, over a period of several days of doing this within the last few months, she became very agitated and confused, I decided, no, I'm not going to set this one up again. So, I took the straight and narrow path. "Mom," I said, "no, you don't have to worry about where you're going to teach next year. You're 87, it's been decades since you taught last and you are no longer up to teaching. Relax. You don't have to worry about that anymore."
Her initial reaction was to look at me as though I'd gone crazy. It's the funniest experience...to correct someone's view of the world and have them think you're the one who's insane. She has a particular expression, halfway between worry and shock that always registers when we have these kinds of conversations. I have to stifle a laugh when this happens.
After a few seconds she suddenly snapped back into the non-teaching, 87 year old reality and said, "Oh! Well, good! That's been worrying me! I guess I can relax next year! Good! I could use a rest!"
"Yes, Mom. You can relax. You can sleep in mornings and do whatever you want during the day."
"Sounds wonderful!"
You just gotta love her.
Today was the first of two Dog Show Evenings. The entire day was geared toward watching the first part of the Eukanuba Tournament of Champions this evening, including the pre-tournament hour-long show about the competition. She would love to have a dog "for The Little Girl" (as though The Little Girl would love having a dog around) and suggested it several times tonight, each time she saw a breed she liked. I'd like us to have a Newfoundland: Get one as a puppy and let The Little Girl raise it so that they'd get along really well together. But, finally, as I've done before, when the show was over and we talked about getting a dog I had to resort to realism and explain to her that there is only one caregiver in this household and the last thing that caregiver needs is a dog.
"Oh," she countered, as she always does, "we'd get used to it, it wouldn't be anymore work. You just work those kinds of things in. You just do it. I'd help."
"Mom, that's not the way it would happen. I know in a normal family that's how it happens. That's how it always happened in our family. But we had several people capable of caregiving living in the same place. Now, we've only got one. And, believe me, I know what I can and can't do in the way of taking on yet another charge. Maybe another cat if there comes a time when The Little Girl no longer enjoys being The Queen and seems to want company of her own kind (although, frankly, I doubt this will happen now; she's very comfortable being the only cat) or if I obviously run across The-Big-Girl-come-back as a brand new cat and she wants to live with us, again. But, a dog, no, even though I'd love to have one. Not a good time for that."
"Well, I suppose you're right. Maybe when I'm feeling better and can take it for walks."
"That's a good idea. We'll reconsider when you're feeling better."
AWe left it at that.
Soon after we had this conversation while I was cleaning in the kitchen after dinner I wondered how often it happens that a lone caregiver to an Ancient One or someone else with special needs decides to bring a new animal (as a pet, not as a working animal) that requires much more care than a cat or a fish into the home because it seems as though it would benefit the care recipient, then, after the fact, realizes that the added work load works against a serene caregiving atmosphere. People need to be realistic and absolutely honest with themselves and others about the effect of upping their caregiving load in the name of pleasing a loved one. When The Big Girl was sick but it looked as though she might recover (which, unfortunately, was a chimera) the main concern I expressed to the vet was that, considering how much care my mother required, I had strong doubts about my ability to care for The Big Girl as her needs intensified and be able to continue to do justice to my mother and The Little Girl and myself. The vet was shocked at first but she's "a good egg". She thought about it and suggested the possibility of foster care until The Big Girl could successfully fit back into our home. Of course, first of all, whether The Big Girl would even have accepted foster care, considering how cautious and scared she was of any change in her environment, was highly debatable. So,though, was the possibility of me being able to successfully care for my mother and two cats, one of which was quite ill and the other of which hated the sick one and wanted to rip her apart because she was sick. Everything, of course, was resolved when it was discovered that The Big Girl was too far gone to recover anyway.
But, you know, caregiving alone often requires very difficult, painful decisions of a type that no one can anticipate when one decides to become an Intense Needs Caregiver. On the one hand the caregiver's heart grows admirably in size and strength and becomes capable of unusual feats of love and endurance; On the other, it is automatically exposed to more dimensions of damage and breakage than the independent heart is capable of imagining. I know I'm not saying anything new, I'm not saying anything most parents don't know. But as I consider this I am even more astounded that we, in this country, as a society, for the most part, have so little awareness of and give so little support to the situation of caregivers of all stripes. How is it that we have allowed ourselves to become so narrow in focus that we think "One Primary Caregiver per Household" even begins to address the actual human condition?!? Those who suffer in silence and consider it sucking it up and being brave are doing neither themselves nor our society any favors.
Oh well. Time for bed.
Later.
Doctors and Patience...
...has moved to Essaying the Situation. I've kept the first couple of paragraphs here as a normal post but have decided to make a few edits to the essay and put it where it belongs. It should be up (and the revised link to it on the right should be operative) in an hour or so from the time of this post.
Originally Published January 12, 2005 - 2306:
She's still bleeding a bit from her urinary tract but the amount appears to be lessening. I gave her a second third of an Augmentin pill tonight to work on her while she's sleeping. I'm hoping that the bleeding will be cleared within 24 hours of our discovery of her urinary tract infection. At that point I'll put her on the maintenance dose of one third pill a day for 10 days. That should do the trick.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder if cutting back on her fluids may have created optimum conditions for the development of a urinary tract infection that might have otherwise been handled by the body's natural processes. I couldn't not control for the possibility of low sodium, knowing what I know about how it affects her, but I thought I was staying within an area of acceptability by negotiating 1/3 cut back on fluids. It's hard to know, really, what I may have done right and wrong. I feel better having witnessed doctors making pretty much the same mistakes I do.
Originally Published January 12, 2005 - 2306:
She's still bleeding a bit from her urinary tract but the amount appears to be lessening. I gave her a second third of an Augmentin pill tonight to work on her while she's sleeping. I'm hoping that the bleeding will be cleared within 24 hours of our discovery of her urinary tract infection. At that point I'll put her on the maintenance dose of one third pill a day for 10 days. That should do the trick.
The more I think about it, the more I wonder if cutting back on her fluids may have created optimum conditions for the development of a urinary tract infection that might have otherwise been handled by the body's natural processes. I couldn't not control for the possibility of low sodium, knowing what I know about how it affects her, but I thought I was staying within an area of acceptability by negotiating 1/3 cut back on fluids. It's hard to know, really, what I may have done right and wrong. I feel better having witnessed doctors making pretty much the same mistakes I do.
Seems like we have my mother's UTI pretty much in hand.
She had a good, though somewhat short, day; a minor nap; felt good, statted good, tiny fever before going to bed, almost couldn't be considered a fever but I gave her acetaminophen anyway. Very, very good mood. Sometimes taking care of her is such a treat!
Late this afternoon while she was napping the holiday spirit finally hit me. It now feels to me as though I am on the eve of The New Year. I thought about what period of time this old year has encompassed and I think the first day was 10/25/03 when she injured her back. Although we've had other problems since then, that's when this tension, which seems to have released today, began. I thought it was over when we sold the house in Mesa but it wasn't. Now, though, for no reason of which I can think, I feel like the year's at an end. I'm ready to celebrate. Finally! I don't care that the holiday celebrations are officially over. For me, they've just begun.
Reminded me of something I read some years ago, can't remember from where it comes: A rumination suggesting that instead of celebrating birthdays we should celebrate those times in which a person feels she has reached a goal, recognizes that she is at an end and a beginning...celebrating that day as a birthday of sorts. This is how I feel today.
It's not that I think I will never again feel overwhelmed by what I'm doing here nor do I believe I will no longer have low periods. I think what has happened, though, is that I've mastered a few challenges so that future events which draw upon these experiences will no longer seem like challenges. I can't tell you what the challenges were. I can only tell you that I feel as though, today, I have reached a point where old challenges are no longer challenges and I am ready to face new ones (after some celebration, and maybe some rest of course, if this is what the gods allow).
I feel so strongly that I have, today, crossed some sort of landmark and that my crossing is meaningful and, hopefully, auspicious, that if I still practiced astrology I would rifle through ephemerides looking for transiting and natally progressing planets that have recently turned direct (or retrograde, perhaps) and compare those with my natal chart. Since I no longer practice astrology, though, I'll confine my search to the landscape in the new direction toward which I feel as though I've turned, scanning for clues about the possibilities that are about to unfold.
This evening, for the second time in about a week, my mother decided that her bathroom light no longer works. What's happening is that she's remembering that in Mesa the bathroom light was the bottom switch and the bathroom fan was the top switch. She's throwing the fan switch here, thinking it's the light switch and isn't leaving it on long enough to hear the fan and realize she threw the wrong switch. I think this will straighten itself out. She has an old mind, though, and I've come to accept that every once in awhile it's going to decide she is somewhere other than where I think she is and try to do things from a past reference point.
It's interesting. Sometimes the trigger is obvious: For instance, one of the top sheets I use on her bed is one we bought on Guam decades ago. Interesting comment on old sheets, that they last so long. Anyway, on a strong pink background it displays large, oblique yellow and white flowers with orange centers. It's a striking sheet. She always notices it when I've used it to make her bed. Occasionally when she's slept under this sheet she awakens "on Guam" in the sense that she remembers morning routines and house layouts from our life there. The position of the bedroom in which she now sleeps belonged to my two younger sisters. When she awakens "on Guam" and exits the bedroom she wonders where they are. When we're in the bathroom on these days she remembers the perfume MFS used to wear, a Faberge scent with the word "wood" in it; very strong; the bathroom would retain it for hours after she showered and sprayed herself with it. I'm thinking "Woodhue" but that might be incorrect. I have no idea yet what "trigger" causes her to reverse the bathroom switches here but I expect it will in some innocent way reveal itself.
I haven't had any trouble remembering that this year is 2005. I've always favored the odd years, though.
I'm ready for bed. Mmmm...feels good.
Later.
Late this afternoon while she was napping the holiday spirit finally hit me. It now feels to me as though I am on the eve of The New Year. I thought about what period of time this old year has encompassed and I think the first day was 10/25/03 when she injured her back. Although we've had other problems since then, that's when this tension, which seems to have released today, began. I thought it was over when we sold the house in Mesa but it wasn't. Now, though, for no reason of which I can think, I feel like the year's at an end. I'm ready to celebrate. Finally! I don't care that the holiday celebrations are officially over. For me, they've just begun.
Reminded me of something I read some years ago, can't remember from where it comes: A rumination suggesting that instead of celebrating birthdays we should celebrate those times in which a person feels she has reached a goal, recognizes that she is at an end and a beginning...celebrating that day as a birthday of sorts. This is how I feel today.
It's not that I think I will never again feel overwhelmed by what I'm doing here nor do I believe I will no longer have low periods. I think what has happened, though, is that I've mastered a few challenges so that future events which draw upon these experiences will no longer seem like challenges. I can't tell you what the challenges were. I can only tell you that I feel as though, today, I have reached a point where old challenges are no longer challenges and I am ready to face new ones (after some celebration, and maybe some rest of course, if this is what the gods allow).
I feel so strongly that I have, today, crossed some sort of landmark and that my crossing is meaningful and, hopefully, auspicious, that if I still practiced astrology I would rifle through ephemerides looking for transiting and natally progressing planets that have recently turned direct (or retrograde, perhaps) and compare those with my natal chart. Since I no longer practice astrology, though, I'll confine my search to the landscape in the new direction toward which I feel as though I've turned, scanning for clues about the possibilities that are about to unfold.
This evening, for the second time in about a week, my mother decided that her bathroom light no longer works. What's happening is that she's remembering that in Mesa the bathroom light was the bottom switch and the bathroom fan was the top switch. She's throwing the fan switch here, thinking it's the light switch and isn't leaving it on long enough to hear the fan and realize she threw the wrong switch. I think this will straighten itself out. She has an old mind, though, and I've come to accept that every once in awhile it's going to decide she is somewhere other than where I think she is and try to do things from a past reference point.
It's interesting. Sometimes the trigger is obvious: For instance, one of the top sheets I use on her bed is one we bought on Guam decades ago. Interesting comment on old sheets, that they last so long. Anyway, on a strong pink background it displays large, oblique yellow and white flowers with orange centers. It's a striking sheet. She always notices it when I've used it to make her bed. Occasionally when she's slept under this sheet she awakens "on Guam" in the sense that she remembers morning routines and house layouts from our life there. The position of the bedroom in which she now sleeps belonged to my two younger sisters. When she awakens "on Guam" and exits the bedroom she wonders where they are. When we're in the bathroom on these days she remembers the perfume MFS used to wear, a Faberge scent with the word "wood" in it; very strong; the bathroom would retain it for hours after she showered and sprayed herself with it. I'm thinking "Woodhue" but that might be incorrect. I have no idea yet what "trigger" causes her to reverse the bathroom switches here but I expect it will in some innocent way reveal itself.
I haven't had any trouble remembering that this year is 2005. I've always favored the odd years, though.
I'm ready for bed. Mmmm...feels good.
Later.
Friday, January 14, 2005
I'm not sure which is more appropriate to say...
...that my mother made it through the night in fine shape or I did. I slept restlessly, awakening spontaneously every couple of hours to determine if she had vomited in her sleep. Didn't happen. Just a few minutes ago, using the Ancient Logic of Ancient Clocks and Time [if she awakens on her own at 0930 on one day, the next day, if she sleeps through that time, I give her an hour before looking for signs of awakening] I checked to see if she was close to awakening into the day. Her eyes opened and so did her mouth, saying, "I'm not ready." She looks good. She's breathing well. She had a copious watershed but yesterday I fed her liquids every time I gave her a pill and she took quite a few pills, several off schedule. Her urine smells "normal" again. Today, because her body is healing and she's sleeping off meds and probably a bit of over-hydration (which was necessary and most likely good, I noticed when I felt her forehead that she doesn't feel as though she has a fever), I'll let her go until I begin to worry, which probably won't be until about noon.
Although I'm curious and a little frightened about what her blood pressure will reveal this morning, I'm also relieved. So relieved I feel as though I got a deep, uninterrrupted night's sleep.
It's a sunny day, my mother's favorite kind; some cloud cover at the moment is dispersing as I write. I've finished all the tax stuff that's due on the 18th and gotten it out. We could use a trip to Target to pick up a new humidifier filter and some more cat box litter; maybe she'll go, maybe she won't. I'll probably treat her to an "early" hair wash, set and style because it relaxes her. Except for the antibiotic, I'm expecting that her medication schedule will return to normal. Whew!
Later.
Although I'm curious and a little frightened about what her blood pressure will reveal this morning, I'm also relieved. So relieved I feel as though I got a deep, uninterrrupted night's sleep.
It's a sunny day, my mother's favorite kind; some cloud cover at the moment is dispersing as I write. I've finished all the tax stuff that's due on the 18th and gotten it out. We could use a trip to Target to pick up a new humidifier filter and some more cat box litter; maybe she'll go, maybe she won't. I'll probably treat her to an "early" hair wash, set and style because it relaxes her. Except for the antibiotic, I'm expecting that her medication schedule will return to normal. Whew!
Later.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
My mother's medication schedule has changed...
...over the last few days to the point where she is noticing. Since she likes to discuss how I manage her medications and lifestyle. Since she is not bothered when I mention problems I'm having because she is always convinced everything is fine, I keep nothing from her, not even my occasional confusion and bedevilment. Today I was clearly confused. Her blood pressure is quickly and unexpectedly dropping back to her typical range. Normally I'd be thrilled but this time I'm circumspect because it could mean her body is experiencing another severe bout of anemia, thus, I'll be taking her blood pressure morning and night for at least the next few days. As well, she's on antibiotics while recovering from yet another urinary tract infection that surprised both of us. She's running a low grade fever, which tends to go along with urinary tract infections. Usually, though, higher blood pressure goes along with these, too. Since I'm using a different antibiotic than is usually used on her, though, and I can't remember and didn't record what the effects of this one were since she was on it (in a much, much higher dosage) for all of two days back in June, I don't know how to analyze attributions.
Our discussion started when my mother decided she wanted to go to bed at 2115 tonight. I told her I wanted to keep her up until 2200 because I felt, just in case her body was going on one of her recurrent anemic binges (actually, anemia is the opposite of a "binge"), we shouldn't skip her third dose of iron which she couldn't take at dinner because that's when she took the antibiotics. I told her that I planned to give it to her at 2130, a safe and adequate distance from the administration of the antibiotic, and I needed her to stay up until 2200 in order to make sure the iron started to digest so that it wouldn't upset her stomach and she wouldn't vomit in the middle of the night, which tends to happen when she's anemic. After studying her for some minutes and taking into account that she looks good and sounds good, her body has already, today, taken a bit of a medicinal beating with the metoclopramide and acetaminophen and has taken that beating when it hasn't been feeling really well, it wouldn't hurt if I canceled her third dose of iron (since it's only 36 mg, although its the iron that her body most readily absorbs) and let her go to bed by her desire.
In the bathroom while we readied her for bed we talked about her health, how I manage it from the outside and how she manages it from the inside. At one point I admitted that my 'occasional' confusion is actually pretty constant and said, "You know, old bodies, they have a mind of their own, Mom. They take wild hairs for granted and have a habit of deciding, 'Screw what everyone thinks I'm supposed to do or will do, I feel like doing something else,' and then they do whatever they goddamnwellplease. Sort of like old minds. Since thought like that is usually a blessing in old minds, I have to assume, beneath everything, that it's equally a blessing in old bodies."
"Take it from me," she said, "it is."
We both laughed.
Then her old mind did a number on me. "I hope you don't ever decide you want to live someplace else rather than here," she said.
I was startled. She was standing up, I was drying her thigh creases. I stopped, faced her, looked directly into her eyes and said, "Mom, I'll be right here with you until you die. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."
Her eyes widened. She began to stutter, "Well, I was just thinking, you take such good care of me..." then she reached out, hugged me, kissed me on the neck and said, while we embraced one another, "I so appreciate...thank you. I'm glad you're not going anywhere."
You'd have to know my mother to know how unusual this is. Her affection for people and life is so warm and palpable that you can feel it without her touch, which is good because she's never been a touchy-feely person. She has her subtle, endearing ways of showing affection physically:
Once the moment was indelibly inked into both of us the operation was over and we continued with her bedtime preparations. As I knelt at her feet, dangling over the side of her bed, to remove her footsies I also tried to surreptitiously wipe away my tears. She noticed though, tousled my hair (another unusual gesture) and said, in very affectionate mock-disgust, "You're so much like your father."
I laughed. "Except," I said, "I don't try to stop the tears, I just try to hide them."
"That's why you don't have ulcers," she said.
"Oh," I added, "one other difference, he didn't have to go through menopause and I sort of resent that!"
Our final laugh of the night.
We bid each other goodnight. And kissed. Twice.
I'll leave it at that and go to bed assuming, almost praying, that the gods will find her desire for life and her belief in her immortality amusing and allow her, gently, easily, more, as much as she expects. No matter how confused I become.
Our discussion started when my mother decided she wanted to go to bed at 2115 tonight. I told her I wanted to keep her up until 2200 because I felt, just in case her body was going on one of her recurrent anemic binges (actually, anemia is the opposite of a "binge"), we shouldn't skip her third dose of iron which she couldn't take at dinner because that's when she took the antibiotics. I told her that I planned to give it to her at 2130, a safe and adequate distance from the administration of the antibiotic, and I needed her to stay up until 2200 in order to make sure the iron started to digest so that it wouldn't upset her stomach and she wouldn't vomit in the middle of the night, which tends to happen when she's anemic. After studying her for some minutes and taking into account that she looks good and sounds good, her body has already, today, taken a bit of a medicinal beating with the metoclopramide and acetaminophen and has taken that beating when it hasn't been feeling really well, it wouldn't hurt if I canceled her third dose of iron (since it's only 36 mg, although its the iron that her body most readily absorbs) and let her go to bed by her desire.
In the bathroom while we readied her for bed we talked about her health, how I manage it from the outside and how she manages it from the inside. At one point I admitted that my 'occasional' confusion is actually pretty constant and said, "You know, old bodies, they have a mind of their own, Mom. They take wild hairs for granted and have a habit of deciding, 'Screw what everyone thinks I'm supposed to do or will do, I feel like doing something else,' and then they do whatever they goddamnwellplease. Sort of like old minds. Since thought like that is usually a blessing in old minds, I have to assume, beneath everything, that it's equally a blessing in old bodies."
"Take it from me," she said, "it is."
We both laughed.
Then her old mind did a number on me. "I hope you don't ever decide you want to live someplace else rather than here," she said.
I was startled. She was standing up, I was drying her thigh creases. I stopped, faced her, looked directly into her eyes and said, "Mom, I'll be right here with you until you die. I'm not going anywhere. Not ever."
Her eyes widened. She began to stutter, "Well, I was just thinking, you take such good care of me..." then she reached out, hugged me, kissed me on the neck and said, while we embraced one another, "I so appreciate...thank you. I'm glad you're not going anywhere."
You'd have to know my mother to know how unusual this is. Her affection for people and life is so warm and palpable that you can feel it without her touch, which is good because she's never been a touchy-feely person. She has her subtle, endearing ways of showing affection physically:
- When I'm washing her feet in the morning she plays with my hair with one finger;
- When I'm taking her blood pressure she curls her thumb around my index finger even though I tell her that this affects her blood pressure reading;
- When we're both watching something on TV and I'm laying on the floor next to her rocking chair she'll stretch out her leg and absentmindedly wiggle her toes against me;
- When I'm sitting on the couch with my feet up and she passes by she'll playfully run a finger over my soles and act surprised when I tell her it feels good rather than tickles (which it does, I'm not ticklish on the bottoms of my feet);
- And, of course, we kiss goodnight and if we forget, which is rare, she always rearises, hunts me up and gets her goodnight kiss.
Once the moment was indelibly inked into both of us the operation was over and we continued with her bedtime preparations. As I knelt at her feet, dangling over the side of her bed, to remove her footsies I also tried to surreptitiously wipe away my tears. She noticed though, tousled my hair (another unusual gesture) and said, in very affectionate mock-disgust, "You're so much like your father."
I laughed. "Except," I said, "I don't try to stop the tears, I just try to hide them."
"That's why you don't have ulcers," she said.
"Oh," I added, "one other difference, he didn't have to go through menopause and I sort of resent that!"
Our final laugh of the night.
We bid each other goodnight. And kissed. Twice.
I'll leave it at that and go to bed assuming, almost praying, that the gods will find her desire for life and her belief in her immortality amusing and allow her, gently, easily, more, as much as she expects. No matter how confused I become.
Just a note so I'll remember.
Much to my surprise, Mom was up at 0920, bright eyed, bushy tailed, on her elbow, ready to go. We began the day: Blood sugar reading, the iron and vitamin C I give her first thing then her bath. Toward the end of her bath while she was standing up as I was putting lotion on her legs, she complained that she was feeling "a little nauseated". She sat down, vomited just a little foam (not the iron pill...I was surprised). After sitting for a few minutes she felt good enough to come out to the living room. I gave her a metaclopramide pill, 5 mg, at 1015 for nausea put off breakfast for a half hour or so. She's watching Animal Planet right now, feeling very good, no more vomiting.
I think it could be that I gave her too much antibiotic yesterday so I'm going to put off her dose today until dinner and not administer iron at that meal. She'll only get 291.66 mg of antibiotic today. I think that'll be enough. I'm pleased to report that she is no longer bleeding from the urethra. I just need to be careful with the antibiotic, I think. I hope that's all it is. Otherwise, it could be that she is going through severe anemia, again.
I think it could be that I gave her too much antibiotic yesterday so I'm going to put off her dose today until dinner and not administer iron at that meal. She'll only get 291.66 mg of antibiotic today. I think that'll be enough. I'm pleased to report that she is no longer bleeding from the urethra. I just need to be careful with the antibiotic, I think. I hope that's all it is. Otherwise, it could be that she is going through severe anemia, again.
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
Wow! I do believe...
...I just wrote in the previous post my long promised essay entitled Doctors and Patience. This is what I've been struggling to say for almost two years now and there it is short and to the point. So I decided to make it handy. It's been added to the links under Essaying the Situation, to the right, and will be shortly deleted from here and added to the line-up on the essay site.
Whew! What a relief!
Whew! What a relief!
She's got another UTI.
I didn't discover it until 1345 this afternoon. Her urine was clear in her underwear this morning and clear when she urinated while we bathed her but when she urinated just before we settled down to a movie this afternoon there was blood in her urine. I noticed this morning that her urine had a stronger smell than usual, almost antiseptic, but thought it must have been because of the vinegar in dinner last night. I'll not forget that smell now, since it was probably symptomatic of the UTI.
Instead of taking her into the Urgent Care Clinic in Prescott Valley I had some pretty powerful antibiotics left over from the UTI she redeveloped in the hospital in June, 2004: 875 mg tablets of Augmentin X2/day. We had leftovers because when she visited her PCP soon after the hospital stay he pronounced those "too powerful for the elderly" and put her on 250 mg Levaquin X1/day. Anyway, knowing that the leftovers were prescribed for a UTI (which I'm sure was and is e coli) I decided to cut the tablets (which are huge) in thirds and administer one per day for 10 days. That will take us to her appointment next week with her PCP, where I'll ask for a standing as-needed prescription of 250 mg Levaquin X1/day to be honored for a six month period until our next regularly scheduled appt.
Although I didn't mention it, a couple of days ago she was in the bathroom when I was outside doing storm cleanup and wiped herself with the inside of a clean pair of paper underwear. The reason I discovered this is that I'd taped up the flusher with duct tape. When she was done she stood at the door and called me to come "fix the toilet, it won't flush". I noticed, when I fished the diaper part out, that there was fecal matter on it but there was no fecal matter in the toilet. At that point I probably should have cleaned her myself but I didn't, figuring that she must have gotten everything and what would be the use since it annoys her to have me clean her and she probably got everything. I guess she didn't or she spread around what she did get. Sometimes you can't micro manage every incident that could use micro managing. I guess I'll be more careful next time I discover she's taken to wiping herself with whatever she can find in the bathroom.
Otherwise, the day seems to be going well. I got to Costco and back by 1100. By the time I got everything put away Mom was on her elbows ready to arise and in a good mood. She's feeling a little punk right now; probably the UTI and the antibiotics: She's got an excuse to take a nap.
She wasn't enjoying the movie: Born on the 4th of July. I've never seen it (I know, bizarre, huh, since I've seen almost every other movie connected with Vietnam) and we got it in a two-for-one deal at Costco with a movie in which we both were interested (at the moment I can't remember what the other movie was). So, I'm going back to the movie, see if I can't finish it off before she wakes up.
In afterthought regarding A Price Above Rubies: I'm finding, in post viewing, that the performance I am remembering and over which I'm marveling most is Julianna Margulies performance as Rachel, Sonia's sister-in-law. Damn! That woman can act!
Later.
Instead of taking her into the Urgent Care Clinic in Prescott Valley I had some pretty powerful antibiotics left over from the UTI she redeveloped in the hospital in June, 2004: 875 mg tablets of Augmentin X2/day. We had leftovers because when she visited her PCP soon after the hospital stay he pronounced those "too powerful for the elderly" and put her on 250 mg Levaquin X1/day. Anyway, knowing that the leftovers were prescribed for a UTI (which I'm sure was and is e coli) I decided to cut the tablets (which are huge) in thirds and administer one per day for 10 days. That will take us to her appointment next week with her PCP, where I'll ask for a standing as-needed prescription of 250 mg Levaquin X1/day to be honored for a six month period until our next regularly scheduled appt.
Although I didn't mention it, a couple of days ago she was in the bathroom when I was outside doing storm cleanup and wiped herself with the inside of a clean pair of paper underwear. The reason I discovered this is that I'd taped up the flusher with duct tape. When she was done she stood at the door and called me to come "fix the toilet, it won't flush". I noticed, when I fished the diaper part out, that there was fecal matter on it but there was no fecal matter in the toilet. At that point I probably should have cleaned her myself but I didn't, figuring that she must have gotten everything and what would be the use since it annoys her to have me clean her and she probably got everything. I guess she didn't or she spread around what she did get. Sometimes you can't micro manage every incident that could use micro managing. I guess I'll be more careful next time I discover she's taken to wiping herself with whatever she can find in the bathroom.
Otherwise, the day seems to be going well. I got to Costco and back by 1100. By the time I got everything put away Mom was on her elbows ready to arise and in a good mood. She's feeling a little punk right now; probably the UTI and the antibiotics: She's got an excuse to take a nap.
She wasn't enjoying the movie: Born on the 4th of July. I've never seen it (I know, bizarre, huh, since I've seen almost every other movie connected with Vietnam) and we got it in a two-for-one deal at Costco with a movie in which we both were interested (at the moment I can't remember what the other movie was). So, I'm going back to the movie, see if I can't finish it off before she wakes up.
In afterthought regarding A Price Above Rubies: I'm finding, in post viewing, that the performance I am remembering and over which I'm marveling most is Julianna Margulies performance as Rachel, Sonia's sister-in-law. Damn! That woman can act!
Later.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Man, I'll tell you what...
...after my mother awoke from her nap and I made her popcorn and V-8 juice with cinnamon, forgetting her dill pickles, I was overcome with fatigue and begged off to what I thought would be about a half hour nap. Two hours later my mother awoke me as she shuffled through my bedroom to see what The Little Girl was eyeing out the back Arcadia door (a big orange cat which sent The Little Girl into a spitting fit). Every once in awhile that happens to me...I lose a little sleep here and there then make it up in a one-fell-swoop nap. And then I remember my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Knave, telling us, "You can't make up lost sleep."
I have this theory about sleep. It wouldn't surprise me if it wasn't true, I can't tell you how I came to this conclusion either, but I've often wondered if the more sleep you get throughout your life, the longer you live, and vice versa. Up to a point, of course. I'm not sure what that point i. Katherine Hepburn lived to be 96 and copped to prefering to sleep 14 hours a day through most of her life. Whether she logged this much sleep is another question.
We talked about going to Costco tomorrow. Although she expressed mild (very mild) interest in the trip, if I'm up early I think I'll just go while she's sleeping, making sure I get back by 1100.
Good day, though. Very good day.
Later.
I have this theory about sleep. It wouldn't surprise me if it wasn't true, I can't tell you how I came to this conclusion either, but I've often wondered if the more sleep you get throughout your life, the longer you live, and vice versa. Up to a point, of course. I'm not sure what that point i. Katherine Hepburn lived to be 96 and copped to prefering to sleep 14 hours a day through most of her life. Whether she logged this much sleep is another question.
We talked about going to Costco tomorrow. Although she expressed mild (very mild) interest in the trip, if I'm up early I think I'll just go while she's sleeping, making sure I get back by 1100.
Good day, though. Very good day.
Later.
A final day, I think, for wrestitution, or...
...for my mother, restitution. When I checked in on her just before 1100 this morning I had a peculiar (good) feeling and decided to take a chance on awakening her. When she saw the gentle, steady rain, the house ablaze with light, smelled the bacon and felt the warmth her first complete sentence was, "What a cozy day!" I knew she'd pinpoint exactly the right ambiance. Typically my mother is not amused by precipitous days, she considers them akin to prison even though she rarely gets out during sunny days right now. But today I guess she was in the mood for cozy and the day is coming through for her.
After her bath I made a spur of the moment decision that breakfast toast would be replaced with one of the Christmas dessert muffins with which MCFs gifted us. To hell with blood sugar. I previewed the last of the movies I rented, A Price above Rubies to make sure it was something Mom might enjoy. It was a hunch rent, based on Renée Zellweger, who seems never to fail even if the script she's acting is a little loose (and this one was); and the cover blurb mentioning that the story takes place in the Hasidic jewelry district. There was some provocative talk about God, one of my mother's favorite subjects, which spurred conversation between us. She was, as always, fascinated with the glimpses into an unfamiliar community. Her attention didn't waver through the movie and she became irritated with me when I stopped it once to go to the bathroom. She was especially intrigued with the mention of the female aspect of God, remembering it after for continued conversation. I don't think it's a movie we'll purchase but one for me to remember to rent again on days such as today.
She's napping, now. As she settled into bed she requested something, "stewy and good" for dinner, so I think we'll have one of my specialties, Beef Strogansauer. Maybe chicken curry soup for lunch if she's up for it. I expect her blood sugar to run riot today but I'm not going to worry about it, although I'm curious enough to take stats and see what it does.
I had planned on getting her on the phone today to grant me permission to discuss and settle a particular medical bill in which the biller used the wrong address when filing for TriCare and was thus denied, but she waved it away: "We can do that tomorrow."
I suggested that time was running away with us on this bill, which is only partly true; mainly, I wanted to get it off my plate. She said, "They can wait." So, everyone will wait while my mother cozies into life and enjoys the last rainy day we'll have for awhile. That's fine with me.
After her bath I made a spur of the moment decision that breakfast toast would be replaced with one of the Christmas dessert muffins with which MCFs gifted us. To hell with blood sugar. I previewed the last of the movies I rented, A Price above Rubies to make sure it was something Mom might enjoy. It was a hunch rent, based on Renée Zellweger, who seems never to fail even if the script she's acting is a little loose (and this one was); and the cover blurb mentioning that the story takes place in the Hasidic jewelry district. There was some provocative talk about God, one of my mother's favorite subjects, which spurred conversation between us. She was, as always, fascinated with the glimpses into an unfamiliar community. Her attention didn't waver through the movie and she became irritated with me when I stopped it once to go to the bathroom. She was especially intrigued with the mention of the female aspect of God, remembering it after for continued conversation. I don't think it's a movie we'll purchase but one for me to remember to rent again on days such as today.
She's napping, now. As she settled into bed she requested something, "stewy and good" for dinner, so I think we'll have one of my specialties, Beef Strogansauer. Maybe chicken curry soup for lunch if she's up for it. I expect her blood sugar to run riot today but I'm not going to worry about it, although I'm curious enough to take stats and see what it does.
I had planned on getting her on the phone today to grant me permission to discuss and settle a particular medical bill in which the biller used the wrong address when filing for TriCare and was thus denied, but she waved it away: "We can do that tomorrow."
I suggested that time was running away with us on this bill, which is only partly true; mainly, I wanted to get it off my plate. She said, "They can wait." So, everyone will wait while my mother cozies into life and enjoys the last rainy day we'll have for awhile. That's fine with me.
Storm Day = Good Day
The sky is gray, the rain is gentle, I'm watching the weather cast...ah, sunshine tomorrow. Although I enjoy getting out in the rain, I think I'll wait until tomorrow to go to Costco on the out chance that Mom might be interested in accompanying me. I know, small chance, but you never know. She's been energized lately. We've got enough paper underwear to last us through today and Mom can endure slightly elevated blood sugar due to the VC pills through part of tomorrow.
I'm flooded with energy so I'm expecting a good day. Much of that energy will be focused on bill paying, maybe some cleaning, going through paperwork, etc. I haven't decided whether to awaken Mom "early". It's just 1000 now. I checked on her and she's snug, secure, breathing evenly and appears to be dreaming, so I'll hold off for a bit.
She helps me appreciate the sun. I help her appreciate precipitation. It works.
Later.
I'm flooded with energy so I'm expecting a good day. Much of that energy will be focused on bill paying, maybe some cleaning, going through paperwork, etc. I haven't decided whether to awaken Mom "early". It's just 1000 now. I checked on her and she's snug, secure, breathing evenly and appears to be dreaming, so I'll hold off for a bit.
She helps me appreciate the sun. I help her appreciate precipitation. It works.
Later.
Monday, January 10, 2005
"I don't know, Mom. Sometimes I think old bodies...
...when they're just hanging around with nothing better to do, go, 'You know, we haven't fooled around with her sodium level lately. Can't remember what that's like. Wanna have a little fun with this old woman?"
My mother laughed and gave me The Sly Eye. She likes to discuss her health, why things might be happening, why I sometimes change her medications or habits. Today, since I spent a lot of time observing her elbow water retention bulge and talked to her about what it was and what I know about the last time this happened to her (when she had a drop in sodium level) she asked me why I thought this might be happening. Some of that speculation is in today's Mom's Daily Tests & Meds Dinner Stats post. I had to conclude with her what I quoted at the beginning of this post. Sometimes the reasons are obvious and sometimes they seem whimsical, as though old bodies take a hankering that can't be explained and sit around thinking, "Ahh, let's do something different today, just for fun. It'll drive her daughter crazy!"
She retired about half an hour ago. Nap and early bedtime, tonight. She reads for awhile before turning out her light. I'm planning on an early retirement tonight, too. I'm taaarrrd. I decided to have a small cup of raspberry cocoa just to settle myself down so I could get some good sleep before tomorrow. I banged the cocoa spoon on the side of the cup without watching what I was doing and dropped it and the can of cocoa, which was right next to my cup on the floor. Within less than a minute my mother was right there, checking to make sure "every was all right. I thought you might have fallen," she said.
After I thanked her I thought about how she continues to be the mother in the house. A lot of times she'll check the locks and turn off lights before retiring. I let her do this even though I have turn the lights back on for myself. I like the fact that she considers herself the mistress of her household. I think it contributes to her longevity to be able to do this. It occurred to me that if I actually did fall and had difficulty getting up she'd spring into action, emergency procedures would suddenly come to the fore of her memory and I could count on her to call 911. I hope, and try to make sure, that this never happens. My confidence in her and her confidence in herself from the perspective of such a situation, though is, I think, definitely a plus as far as her life span is concerned.
Time to set up pills for tomorrow and hit the sack. Tomorrow will no doubt be a Costco day. It'll be raining so I'm looking forward to getting out in it.
My mother laughed and gave me The Sly Eye. She likes to discuss her health, why things might be happening, why I sometimes change her medications or habits. Today, since I spent a lot of time observing her elbow water retention bulge and talked to her about what it was and what I know about the last time this happened to her (when she had a drop in sodium level) she asked me why I thought this might be happening. Some of that speculation is in today's Mom's Daily Tests & Meds Dinner Stats post. I had to conclude with her what I quoted at the beginning of this post. Sometimes the reasons are obvious and sometimes they seem whimsical, as though old bodies take a hankering that can't be explained and sit around thinking, "Ahh, let's do something different today, just for fun. It'll drive her daughter crazy!"
She retired about half an hour ago. Nap and early bedtime, tonight. She reads for awhile before turning out her light. I'm planning on an early retirement tonight, too. I'm taaarrrd. I decided to have a small cup of raspberry cocoa just to settle myself down so I could get some good sleep before tomorrow. I banged the cocoa spoon on the side of the cup without watching what I was doing and dropped it and the can of cocoa, which was right next to my cup on the floor. Within less than a minute my mother was right there, checking to make sure "every was all right. I thought you might have fallen," she said.
After I thanked her I thought about how she continues to be the mother in the house. A lot of times she'll check the locks and turn off lights before retiring. I let her do this even though I have turn the lights back on for myself. I like the fact that she considers herself the mistress of her household. I think it contributes to her longevity to be able to do this. It occurred to me that if I actually did fall and had difficulty getting up she'd spring into action, emergency procedures would suddenly come to the fore of her memory and I could count on her to call 911. I hope, and try to make sure, that this never happens. My confidence in her and her confidence in herself from the perspective of such a situation, though is, I think, definitely a plus as far as her life span is concerned.
Time to set up pills for tomorrow and hit the sack. Tomorrow will no doubt be a Costco day. It'll be raining so I'm looking forward to getting out in it.
Stat ketchup is again being served.
I'm caught up at Mom's Daily Tests and Meds. Nothing unusual that I haven't already mentioned.
She decided to take a nap today. I couldn't see any reason to stop her. We may do another 'informal' exercise session this evening. We may not. She's doing so well all around that I'm relaxing about having her do what I think she needs to do over than what she wants to do. I like these periods. They allow us to enjoy each other without interruption.
I've started several (four, as I recall, which, I think, counts as several) essays over at the essay site during the last week or so but haven't had a chance to finish them. The one foremost on my mind is about the alleged wisdom of Ancient Ones. I'm still trying to find a reference for it. I think it might be packed in the shed so I may have to make do with what the web has. I'm hoping to slowly but surely get those finished and published but don't hold your breath. They'll probably trickle in.
Mom's up.
Later.
She decided to take a nap today. I couldn't see any reason to stop her. We may do another 'informal' exercise session this evening. We may not. She's doing so well all around that I'm relaxing about having her do what I think she needs to do over than what she wants to do. I like these periods. They allow us to enjoy each other without interruption.
I've started several (four, as I recall, which, I think, counts as several) essays over at the essay site during the last week or so but haven't had a chance to finish them. The one foremost on my mind is about the alleged wisdom of Ancient Ones. I'm still trying to find a reference for it. I think it might be packed in the shed so I may have to make do with what the web has. I'm hoping to slowly but surely get those finished and published but don't hold your breath. They'll probably trickle in.
Mom's up.
Later.
I'll probably use this, today, as a "Stuff I Want to Remember" area.
- She had a bowel movement yesterday at 1300. I would have posted it in her stats area but I haven't yet visited there and probably won't until tonight. Good volume, surprisingly easy movement. In the evening, though, she thought she had to eliminate, sat on the toilet for a good 15 minutes, was sure she had, even complained about eliminating being "a little hard". When she arose from the seat she hadn't shat and when I cleaned her there was nothing...not even the detritus that appears when she farts. She had, however, peed. Occasionally she sometimes mistakes, in her mind, urinating with defecating. I think this has happened twice before in the last year. It's a very curious glitch...makes me wonder about the structure of her brain and how old age scrambles things.
- I noticed when she awoke today that her right elbow was the tiniest bit bulbous. When she was suffering from low sodium and over-hydration both her elbows collected so much water that she appeared to have skateboarding elbow pads implanted beneath her skin. As her physicians dehydrated her and upped her sodium in the hospital the pads quickly disappeared. So I'm taking this as a sign that perhaps she's been drinking too much liquid lately. I hadn't thought so: I'm careful not to put her through "water torture" anymore, but she has really been enjoying her instant decaf coffee lately so I think we'll scale back on the liquids for a day or so, I'll watch her carefully, and we'll see if the right elbow water pad disappears. If I'm right, it should be gone by tomorrow morning.
The Water Whichery aspect of caring for an Ancient One is, as usual, one of the trickiest. This time I have no idea what could be causing her body to retain water, but just in case she might be suffering from a little CHF (I don't think so, but she might be) I've got her sucking oxygen now and will keep her on it for as much of the day as is possible.
Later.
No naps, the last two days!
Despite this keeping me busier than usual I've been pleasantly surprised. We continue to keep to my mother's hours...late mornings, late nights, lots of her favorite shows. We've also had a couple of incidents of "yes I smoke cigarettes, where are they", which have been strange. One of these fits awoke her night before last, once again just as I was getting ready to go to bed...so, we stayed up and watched Columbo and Sherlock homes. I'm not sure why these episodes are happening. Sometimes it appears that it's because she's watching someone on TV smoking a cigarette; but this isn't always the case. I've found that if I catch her while she's looking for something but hasn't yet figured out what she's trying to find and hook her up to oxygen, even if she doesn't appear to need it, the fit is arrested.
Since my attention has been typically full force on her throughout the day with no breaks I've had a bit of trouble getting back here to post. It's a relief, though, to see that she seems to have gotten her winter sleep out.
Yesterday I lured her into a short (just less than half an hour) 'informal' session of going through some of her exercises (the sitting ones, with weights, when called for) again. Although she doesn't notice it, her energy improves after a session. I still can't seem to get her interested in 'doing' anything. I brought out both the card making sets (including the stamping set) and the beading. She announced that she preferred to read and do crosswords. I relented. She has, though, been fairly voracious about playing Sorry and has beat me at about 50% of the games without a lot of coaching. Last night, immediately after the episode of Storm Stories we were watching, when the local weather cast aired and announced the rain storm due for today Mom said in reaction, "Now, that's a spring storm," with what almost sounded like excitement. I didn't bother to correct her by telling her that we are just a couple of weeks into winter. Maybe her spring mindset is keeping her up!
Since I haven't gotten over to the Tests & Meds site to put in stats, although I've been keeping them, I'll note here there's been a bit of a hike in her blood sugar: Nothing alarming but unusual considering her recent blood sugar history. I continue to suspect the new vitamin C pills. The next time I go to Costco I'll buy the non-chewables. Buying the chewables was a mistake...I didn't notice that the 500 mg tabs, which I wouldn't have to split, were chewable. If I had I would have assumed they have sugar in them and bought the others.
I'm wondering how the incoming storm is going to affect her napping quotient, today.
I'm hoping to get back here today and do some catching up.
Later.
Since my attention has been typically full force on her throughout the day with no breaks I've had a bit of trouble getting back here to post. It's a relief, though, to see that she seems to have gotten her winter sleep out.
Yesterday I lured her into a short (just less than half an hour) 'informal' session of going through some of her exercises (the sitting ones, with weights, when called for) again. Although she doesn't notice it, her energy improves after a session. I still can't seem to get her interested in 'doing' anything. I brought out both the card making sets (including the stamping set) and the beading. She announced that she preferred to read and do crosswords. I relented. She has, though, been fairly voracious about playing Sorry and has beat me at about 50% of the games without a lot of coaching. Last night, immediately after the episode of Storm Stories we were watching, when the local weather cast aired and announced the rain storm due for today Mom said in reaction, "Now, that's a spring storm," with what almost sounded like excitement. I didn't bother to correct her by telling her that we are just a couple of weeks into winter. Maybe her spring mindset is keeping her up!
Since I haven't gotten over to the Tests & Meds site to put in stats, although I've been keeping them, I'll note here there's been a bit of a hike in her blood sugar: Nothing alarming but unusual considering her recent blood sugar history. I continue to suspect the new vitamin C pills. The next time I go to Costco I'll buy the non-chewables. Buying the chewables was a mistake...I didn't notice that the 500 mg tabs, which I wouldn't have to split, were chewable. If I had I would have assumed they have sugar in them and bought the others.
I'm wondering how the incoming storm is going to affect her napping quotient, today.
I'm hoping to get back here today and do some catching up.
Later.
