Saturday, February 12, 2005
So, there's an interesting discussion of...
...pancakes over at Today's Breakfast Stats. Those of you who know and love my mother will enjoy it.
Although yesterday may have been the first time I recorded it, I believe it's been two days, now, that I've given her two Niferex-150's, one in the morning and one at night. I hadn't wanted to do that before, even though our 87 year old former yardman thrives on this daily dose and has for a couple of years. It seemed to me that I should try to get away with as little supplemental iron as possible. I knew that, in addition to Niferex-150 once in the morning, only one 18 mg Iron Protein Succinylate tablet at lunch and dinner didn't do the trick, kept her at around Hemoglobin 9, which the doctors considered okay since it was "stable", but I do not. So, at 36 mg Iron Protein Succinylate twice a day she's stayed around Hemoglobin 10 and 11 (low 11), which is good. But, this morning, after only two days of two Niferex-150 capsules a day, she seemed strikingly more ruddy all over rather than patchy, stood straighter although is still physically weak and seemed more alert. Of course, I have to take into consideration that the 500 mg Levaquin/day also seems to be knocking out her UTI. Her urine is clearing up nicely despite the number of times I clean the toilet.
So, I think I've decided, Niferex-150 twice a day, cut out the other iron for awhile, see how she does on this regimen (especially how it affects her bowels). Stop and keep her off the DetrolLA, too. She and I have both noticed that after having been off it for four days she's actually holding her bladder better during the day. It may have been interferring with her UTI and the antibiotics. Otherwise, things will remain the same.
Although yesterday may have been the first time I recorded it, I believe it's been two days, now, that I've given her two Niferex-150's, one in the morning and one at night. I hadn't wanted to do that before, even though our 87 year old former yardman thrives on this daily dose and has for a couple of years. It seemed to me that I should try to get away with as little supplemental iron as possible. I knew that, in addition to Niferex-150 once in the morning, only one 18 mg Iron Protein Succinylate tablet at lunch and dinner didn't do the trick, kept her at around Hemoglobin 9, which the doctors considered okay since it was "stable", but I do not. So, at 36 mg Iron Protein Succinylate twice a day she's stayed around Hemoglobin 10 and 11 (low 11), which is good. But, this morning, after only two days of two Niferex-150 capsules a day, she seemed strikingly more ruddy all over rather than patchy, stood straighter although is still physically weak and seemed more alert. Of course, I have to take into consideration that the 500 mg Levaquin/day also seems to be knocking out her UTI. Her urine is clearing up nicely despite the number of times I clean the toilet.
So, I think I've decided, Niferex-150 twice a day, cut out the other iron for awhile, see how she does on this regimen (especially how it affects her bowels). Stop and keep her off the DetrolLA, too. She and I have both noticed that after having been off it for four days she's actually holding her bladder better during the day. It may have been interferring with her UTI and the antibiotics. Otherwise, things will remain the same.
It's like she's PMSing...
...which, of course, we all know can't be happening. At 0948 she was awake. I know. I checked in on her at that time. She seemed amenable to getting up. Did, in fact, went to the bathroom, then in the time it took me to plug in the hot water pot, put ham in the skillet, herd her First Thing in the Morning Pills, she was back in bed in her soaked pajamas and underwear, snuggling in her soaked comforter. I decided if she's going to sleep longer I'd take advantage of this time to go to a DVD outlet here and pick up some movies that we watch a lot and I know we'll continue to watch. I told her I'd wake her up on my return. She agreed this sounded good.
I returned at 1100 straight up. As I turned the corner of her room I saw her open eyes shut tight as she caught a glimpse of me. I left her alone until a half hour ago. Her eyes were open again so I went into "getting up" gear. She remained in bed.
"Look, are you tired or are you doing this because you can't think of any good reason to be upright?" My mother is always honest answering this question.
"I'm tahred." Her voice broke in her throat as she said this.
I felt her forehead. No fever. Probably dehydration. "Okay. I'll check in on you every half hour or so. Ham for breakfast, you know. Does that make it worth it?"
She took a moment to answer, "Almost," before cackling and laying her head back down on the pillow.
The woman at the store who helped me corral items on my list is probably about my age. Her mother is 78. She's planning on "combining households" [How psychologically generous of her! I thought.] with her mother "when it becomes necessary". I quickly thought back. In 1994, when I established my home with her, my mother was 77, very independent and remained that way until around 1997, as she turned 80. That was the summer she bought the house in Prescott and I discovered in the middle of the deal she was no longer capable of conducting competent business. There was one major hitch because of this which could have gotten us sent to court, but everything was smoothed over once I took the reins.
The woman who assisted me was interested in hearing my mother's opinions of certain movies and laughed in recognition of her own mother's fierce opinionatedness. Like, for instance, that my mother, after I forced her to watch it right (which means not looking away and starting a conversation during the difficult parts), now loves The Shawshank Redemption but her final judgment on The Green Mile, which she dutifully watched on the enthusiastic recommendation of friends who lent us the movie, was a shriveling, "What, exactly, was the point of that?"
At other times her depth of identification surprises me. She loves watching Dances With Wolves (a copy of which I was able to procure today) because she identifies so closely with Native Americans in films that, especially during this film, she is often heard to say, "You know, I think I must have been a [Sioux tribe, usually] in a former life. I just feel as though I know how all of this feels!"
I was not, to my dismay, able to find Driving Miss Daisy, the curse of medium sized towns that consider themselves small towns (the condition of not being able to find a perennially popular property, not the movie).
I'm not sure if today will be a movie watching day. I think, to test the waters, I'll throw out My Best Friend's Wedding, one that we rent fairly frequently, especially when we need a realistic lift, a copy of which I bought today. If that goes over well maybe we'll graduate to something a bit more stimulating, like Amadeus, an advertisement of which she slavered over the other night so I bought it today. Or, maybe we'll reverse the order, see how that works.
What am I talking about! She's not even up yet!
Yes, you can probably expect another entry in the DVD's owned site within the next few days.
Later.
I returned at 1100 straight up. As I turned the corner of her room I saw her open eyes shut tight as she caught a glimpse of me. I left her alone until a half hour ago. Her eyes were open again so I went into "getting up" gear. She remained in bed.
"Look, are you tired or are you doing this because you can't think of any good reason to be upright?" My mother is always honest answering this question.
"I'm tahred." Her voice broke in her throat as she said this.
I felt her forehead. No fever. Probably dehydration. "Okay. I'll check in on you every half hour or so. Ham for breakfast, you know. Does that make it worth it?"
She took a moment to answer, "Almost," before cackling and laying her head back down on the pillow.
The woman at the store who helped me corral items on my list is probably about my age. Her mother is 78. She's planning on "combining households" [How psychologically generous of her! I thought.] with her mother "when it becomes necessary". I quickly thought back. In 1994, when I established my home with her, my mother was 77, very independent and remained that way until around 1997, as she turned 80. That was the summer she bought the house in Prescott and I discovered in the middle of the deal she was no longer capable of conducting competent business. There was one major hitch because of this which could have gotten us sent to court, but everything was smoothed over once I took the reins.
The woman who assisted me was interested in hearing my mother's opinions of certain movies and laughed in recognition of her own mother's fierce opinionatedness. Like, for instance, that my mother, after I forced her to watch it right (which means not looking away and starting a conversation during the difficult parts), now loves The Shawshank Redemption but her final judgment on The Green Mile, which she dutifully watched on the enthusiastic recommendation of friends who lent us the movie, was a shriveling, "What, exactly, was the point of that?"
At other times her depth of identification surprises me. She loves watching Dances With Wolves (a copy of which I was able to procure today) because she identifies so closely with Native Americans in films that, especially during this film, she is often heard to say, "You know, I think I must have been a [Sioux tribe, usually] in a former life. I just feel as though I know how all of this feels!"
I was not, to my dismay, able to find Driving Miss Daisy, the curse of medium sized towns that consider themselves small towns (the condition of not being able to find a perennially popular property, not the movie).
I'm not sure if today will be a movie watching day. I think, to test the waters, I'll throw out My Best Friend's Wedding, one that we rent fairly frequently, especially when we need a realistic lift, a copy of which I bought today. If that goes over well maybe we'll graduate to something a bit more stimulating, like Amadeus, an advertisement of which she slavered over the other night so I bought it today. Or, maybe we'll reverse the order, see how that works.
What am I talking about! She's not even up yet!
Yes, you can probably expect another entry in the DVD's owned site within the next few days.
Later.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Despite the miracle boost pancakes gave Mom's morning...
...she is back in bed napping, just over two hours after she arose. I could barely keep her off the couch long enough to make her bed. It's partly the sugar, I think, partly the weather, partly age, partly the infection, blah, blah, blah. At any rate, she went to bed happy, smacking her lips, wondering out loud why we don't have pancakes more often for breakfast. Maybe we will. We even have a super duper, easy cleaning electric pancake griddle. I like buckwheat pancakes and my mother doesn't mind them. I read just recently that buckwheat helps to lower both blood sugar and cholesterol. So I'll get some buckwheat flour and keep it on hand.
Later.
Later.
So, it looks like I forgot to post here, yesterday!
I was busy, I guess.
Sometime yesterday evening, probably about the time it began to rain, although Mom and I are so snug against it we wouldn't know if it started to rain, we both observed that it seemed like a Friday evening. Today, I note, seems like the Saturday of a baking weekend. Which means we'll have an extended weekend. Which I could use, since I'm still looking for a few tax documents and need some uninterrupted time to go waist deep in boxes of papers. My oblique Living Papers Filing System is going to stop. This winter. Period. I always find everything, because nothing gets thrown away, but, god, what I have to wade through!
Anyway, it is raining, plainly, as in Spain, as I write. I feel good although I've already snapped at Mom this morning and she isn't even up. I peeked in on her at 0845 and noticed that her oxygen was off. I checked the bathroom...no indication that she was there in the middle of the night, which would be a 'legitimate' explanation for her oxygen being off. So, I figured she took it off just because she wanted to. As well, she was laying in her typical, "I'm oxygen starved" pose, flung backwards over her pillow, arched through the torso, mouth fully open, chest heaving. This is the third morning I've discovered her like this. She needs at least the nightly oxygen right now to get her boosted into the day, since her body is battle engaged. So I woke her up rudely with no apology, directed her to put her oxygen back on, delivered a short, pointed, probably painful lecture on why her night oxygen was necessary, and bid her back to sleep, which is where she went. Immediately. She probably won't remember the incident consciously but tomorrow morning, when I peak in, if she hasn't been to the bathroom in the middle of the night, her oxygen will be securely attached to her faced.
And, you ask, how do I know she didn't go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Because, when she does the cannula and cording are discarded after she's sitting on the edge of the bed and are, invariably, on the floor, toward the foot of the bed.
On the one hand, I sympathize enough with her age and aging that when I am convinced that she is on her way out and no longer wants to be bothered with the machinery of living through old age I'll let her sleep without oxygen, etc. But, she's not there, yet.
So, yeah, yesterday was a good day. I did some recreational reading (Yeow, can you beleive that?!?) of a serious subject. A book a friend recently passed to me. Mom and I watched some of the Oscar Roundup on TCM yesterday. We caught Lust for Life. I'd never seen it. Mom was absorbed. So was I, although I thought Douglas' portrayal of Van Gogh was awfully hammy. He did not receive an Oscar for his performance. Quinn did for his portrayal of Gauguin. I was charmed by his performance. It was understated and charismatic. He and Alfred Molina share a quality that allows them to nicely shoulder any character.
We watched Philadelphia, which is riveting on repeated viewings because you can hone in on the individual performances of the actors. This time while watching it I wondered if the scene where Miller leaves Beckett's apartment after being treated to an impromptu operatic lesson in death in life, when he stops, sneaks back to the door, considers knocking, then turns around, then turns back, then turns around and leaves chuckling at himself, I wondered if that scene was improvised: Like, they kept the cameras rolling after the official end of the scene and Washington remained in character and reacted to what had just happened.
It seems as though there was another movie in there, too, or maybe some Kung Fu The Complete First Season episodes. We are both, shamelessly and shamefully, getting into this show. The cover of The Complete Second Season promises an episode with Harrison Ford as a character actor. We haven't yet run across that one. I remain astonished at how mellow television was back when this show was originally aired, before 1973, I'm sure, because I remember seeing it on Guam. This was considered action TV at that time. It is not uncommon for an episode to float peacefully by while an event is being waded through, which inevitably turns out not to be nearly as violent as one can watch in the opening moments of, say, CSI: Crime Scene Investigations. I continue to remain amazed, as well, that, during a spate of fisticuffs remains the rule that impact is never filmed. Damage is shown, but impact is blurred or cut away from. Wow.
The day took place on a plateau. We had exactly the same food for dinner as breakfast. The day involved only two meals. Mom slept a lot. I read. And we watched two types of media on TV.
Her urine is already clearing up on this course of Levaquin, even though I continue to scrub out the toilet daily so that I can get a good shot at what her urine looks like throughout the day. I notice our water bill went up a dollar in the last month. That's probably all the extra flushes when I'm cleaning her toilet. Almost every day. I have hopes that this doubled up course of Levaquin will clear this infection, whatever it is, before we get around to finding out what it is.
I have been haunted by a constant litany, deposited into my brain during our last doctor's appointment: "She'll have more UTIs." Yes, I guess she will.
We'll probably have ham again for breakfast since I haven't yet frozen it. It is raining, as Seattle rain, so who knows when Mom will stir again. Maybe, by the time she awakens, I'll have something baked. Maybe not.
Later.
Sometime yesterday evening, probably about the time it began to rain, although Mom and I are so snug against it we wouldn't know if it started to rain, we both observed that it seemed like a Friday evening. Today, I note, seems like the Saturday of a baking weekend. Which means we'll have an extended weekend. Which I could use, since I'm still looking for a few tax documents and need some uninterrupted time to go waist deep in boxes of papers. My oblique Living Papers Filing System is going to stop. This winter. Period. I always find everything, because nothing gets thrown away, but, god, what I have to wade through!
Anyway, it is raining, plainly, as in Spain, as I write. I feel good although I've already snapped at Mom this morning and she isn't even up. I peeked in on her at 0845 and noticed that her oxygen was off. I checked the bathroom...no indication that she was there in the middle of the night, which would be a 'legitimate' explanation for her oxygen being off. So, I figured she took it off just because she wanted to. As well, she was laying in her typical, "I'm oxygen starved" pose, flung backwards over her pillow, arched through the torso, mouth fully open, chest heaving. This is the third morning I've discovered her like this. She needs at least the nightly oxygen right now to get her boosted into the day, since her body is battle engaged. So I woke her up rudely with no apology, directed her to put her oxygen back on, delivered a short, pointed, probably painful lecture on why her night oxygen was necessary, and bid her back to sleep, which is where she went. Immediately. She probably won't remember the incident consciously but tomorrow morning, when I peak in, if she hasn't been to the bathroom in the middle of the night, her oxygen will be securely attached to her faced.
And, you ask, how do I know she didn't go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? Because, when she does the cannula and cording are discarded after she's sitting on the edge of the bed and are, invariably, on the floor, toward the foot of the bed.
On the one hand, I sympathize enough with her age and aging that when I am convinced that she is on her way out and no longer wants to be bothered with the machinery of living through old age I'll let her sleep without oxygen, etc. But, she's not there, yet.
So, yeah, yesterday was a good day. I did some recreational reading (Yeow, can you beleive that?!?) of a serious subject. A book a friend recently passed to me. Mom and I watched some of the Oscar Roundup on TCM yesterday. We caught Lust for Life. I'd never seen it. Mom was absorbed. So was I, although I thought Douglas' portrayal of Van Gogh was awfully hammy. He did not receive an Oscar for his performance. Quinn did for his portrayal of Gauguin. I was charmed by his performance. It was understated and charismatic. He and Alfred Molina share a quality that allows them to nicely shoulder any character.
We watched Philadelphia, which is riveting on repeated viewings because you can hone in on the individual performances of the actors. This time while watching it I wondered if the scene where Miller leaves Beckett's apartment after being treated to an impromptu operatic lesson in death in life, when he stops, sneaks back to the door, considers knocking, then turns around, then turns back, then turns around and leaves chuckling at himself, I wondered if that scene was improvised: Like, they kept the cameras rolling after the official end of the scene and Washington remained in character and reacted to what had just happened.
It seems as though there was another movie in there, too, or maybe some Kung Fu The Complete First Season episodes. We are both, shamelessly and shamefully, getting into this show. The cover of The Complete Second Season promises an episode with Harrison Ford as a character actor. We haven't yet run across that one. I remain astonished at how mellow television was back when this show was originally aired, before 1973, I'm sure, because I remember seeing it on Guam. This was considered action TV at that time. It is not uncommon for an episode to float peacefully by while an event is being waded through, which inevitably turns out not to be nearly as violent as one can watch in the opening moments of, say, CSI: Crime Scene Investigations. I continue to remain amazed, as well, that, during a spate of fisticuffs remains the rule that impact is never filmed. Damage is shown, but impact is blurred or cut away from. Wow.
The day took place on a plateau. We had exactly the same food for dinner as breakfast. The day involved only two meals. Mom slept a lot. I read. And we watched two types of media on TV.
Her urine is already clearing up on this course of Levaquin, even though I continue to scrub out the toilet daily so that I can get a good shot at what her urine looks like throughout the day. I notice our water bill went up a dollar in the last month. That's probably all the extra flushes when I'm cleaning her toilet. Almost every day. I have hopes that this doubled up course of Levaquin will clear this infection, whatever it is, before we get around to finding out what it is.
I have been haunted by a constant litany, deposited into my brain during our last doctor's appointment: "She'll have more UTIs." Yes, I guess she will.
We'll probably have ham again for breakfast since I haven't yet frozen it. It is raining, as Seattle rain, so who knows when Mom will stir again. Maybe, by the time she awakens, I'll have something baked. Maybe not.
Later.
Wednesday, February 9, 2005
And, about today...hmmm...
...well, I'm not sure whether I was right about which 'pianist' movie Mom saw, but she was expecting a Liberace type of feature, not The Pianist, the movie we watched today. She was determined, though. She sat through "the whoooole thiiiiing". We stopped it a couple of times: First, so I could put the ham in the oven then so I could take it out and glaze it. Each time we broke the movie I asked Mom if she was sure this was the movie she thought she'd seen.
She couldn't be sure, she said, but she knew there were some concert scenes coming up soon. During the rolling of the final credits (which, if you've scene the movie you'll remember are run through an entire Szpilman concert) she looked at me as though to say, "See, I told you so!"
I'm actually glad we have the movie. I'll consider it the beginning of my Roman Polanski collection, which I'd forgotten when purchasing movies. I was very impressed, as usual, I might add, in Roman Polanski movies, with his ability to portray the horrible in such a way that we remember that it is horrible and why. I loved the "inside" German speaker's joke about Szpilman's name being the perfect name for a pianist. I was surprisingly sad to discover that the German officer who helped Szpilman probably died in a Russian concentration camp. I liked that the movie focused on this particular incident and spread out to the entire story from there, an exquisite parabola construction. Now I remember why I like Polanski movies.
We continue to struggle with Mom's UTI. To catch you up on discussion I've posted elsewhere, I've decided to take her off the Detrol during this antibiotic course, which will be 7 days of 500 mg Levaquin/day. I'll be giving both 250 mg pills to her at the same time. Within 3.5 days, even if she isn't bleeding from the urinary tract, which I'm sure she won't be, I'll be able to tell, from the clarity (or lack thereof) of her urine whether a urinalysis and represcription is indicated. If so we'll probably call the doctor Monday and try to have the tests done then. They may require an in-person appointment. We can do that. I continue to remain surprised at my recollections of how easy our last day trip to the doctor was.
Because I've been so concerned about the intransigiency of this UTI and how dragged out it makes Mom feel, tonight I said to her, gently, as she was settling into a reading position in bed, "Look, just in case, tonight is not a good night for you to die. I hope you're not planning on it."
She glanced up at me in genuine surprise. "Oh no! Not tonight! Not from this! I'm going to get better!"
Oh. Excuse me. Okay, then. Good!
Amazing how much spirit a reluctant, ancient body can contain. Sometimes, even my body doesn't contain the spirit hers does.
Oh, that we could all be perfectly protected when we need it most, yet feel as though we are perfectly free.
I guess that's what we look for in our religions, isn't it. Well, religion isn't where it comes from, folks. It comes from the circumstances and practice of human love and caring
So, I'm thinking there were other things I wanted to mention, but I can't remember them. Maybe I'll get to bed before midnight tonight. I want to be at the pharmacy as soon after 0800 (opening) as possible, so that I have the pills to plan into our daily pill regimen.
I'm trying to make sure she stays interested in food by making things we don't have often and making sure we have lots of ham, another one of which I roasted tonight, putting curry powder into the glaze again. With nuked yams. Tomorrow night we'll have corned beef, maybe hash if I remember to stop at the grocery and pick up a couple of potatoes on the way back from the pharmacy. She's really enjoying the yoghurt, which is good. A nice change of pace. We're keeping up with the olives. It seems that the olives, themselves, may do most of the work of 'needed fiber'. This is one of the ways I know this debilitation is temporary...none of her other functions are being affected. In fact, they are, in some cases, at all time highs in function.
I'm glad I can provide a very low key house for her. It has only recently occurred to me that this is good for her and something she deserves. I've been worried, as some of you may remember, that I am afraid I cannot (in part because of my nature) provide her with enough stimulation to make the most of her aging assets. But, you know, maybe a home centered around her is a good trade-off. She still gets stimulation and responds well to it. She just doesn't like to look for it anymore. So, this situation is good for her.
She's such a funny woman. Today I received an order, about a year's worth of special, very fragrant, very gentle hard milled soap specifically for bathing her. I was showing it to her and she was remarking on the aromas and the packaging. I started yakking about what a good deal I got on this stuff, ordering it online, then realized she was going to ask, "How much?" and would be listening to the answer through ears honed in the era of 5ยข equaling a good tip. So, you know, I told her. And, I tried to soften the blow. But she was stunned. It would have been as though I'd told you I had just bought a year's worth of 'fancy' soap at $100 a bar, and, by the way, what a bargain!
We got past that. I distracted her with the free samples included in the order.
I also bought a couple of azaela's that look like they've been spray painted. We are going to try to keep these alive.
And, we still have Citizen Kane and M*A*S*H, both of which I know will be hits because she's seen them.
So, oh yeah. There's one movie that I've been struggling about getting, lately, mainly because it's been available and really cheap and I slink guiltily past it every time I'm at Costco: Pretty Woman. This movie is one of Mom's guilty pleasures except that she doesn't feel guilty about it. She completely identifies with the heroine. It doesn't even bother her when the concierge (and, don't get me wrong, I love Hector Elizando) say's something about "a thing of beauty" and how it's hard to part with "it" and then the entire movie falls into perspective...but, you know, every time it's on TV and I'm mindlessly reading through the movies for her I kick myself in the butt when I mindlessly read this one and she watches it from somewhere after the beginning through to the end, yet again. Yeah, I guess I should get it for her. I know, from a romance story perspective, all about what a holy grail it is. It's just that I have trouble with the idea of subsidizing that kind of romance story perspective. But, my mother doesn't.
Well, if I'm going to make it into bed before midnight, I'd better start now.
Later.
She couldn't be sure, she said, but she knew there were some concert scenes coming up soon. During the rolling of the final credits (which, if you've scene the movie you'll remember are run through an entire Szpilman concert) she looked at me as though to say, "See, I told you so!"
I'm actually glad we have the movie. I'll consider it the beginning of my Roman Polanski collection, which I'd forgotten when purchasing movies. I was very impressed, as usual, I might add, in Roman Polanski movies, with his ability to portray the horrible in such a way that we remember that it is horrible and why. I loved the "inside" German speaker's joke about Szpilman's name being the perfect name for a pianist. I was surprisingly sad to discover that the German officer who helped Szpilman probably died in a Russian concentration camp. I liked that the movie focused on this particular incident and spread out to the entire story from there, an exquisite parabola construction. Now I remember why I like Polanski movies.
We continue to struggle with Mom's UTI. To catch you up on discussion I've posted elsewhere, I've decided to take her off the Detrol during this antibiotic course, which will be 7 days of 500 mg Levaquin/day. I'll be giving both 250 mg pills to her at the same time. Within 3.5 days, even if she isn't bleeding from the urinary tract, which I'm sure she won't be, I'll be able to tell, from the clarity (or lack thereof) of her urine whether a urinalysis and represcription is indicated. If so we'll probably call the doctor Monday and try to have the tests done then. They may require an in-person appointment. We can do that. I continue to remain surprised at my recollections of how easy our last day trip to the doctor was.
Because I've been so concerned about the intransigiency of this UTI and how dragged out it makes Mom feel, tonight I said to her, gently, as she was settling into a reading position in bed, "Look, just in case, tonight is not a good night for you to die. I hope you're not planning on it."
She glanced up at me in genuine surprise. "Oh no! Not tonight! Not from this! I'm going to get better!"
Oh. Excuse me. Okay, then. Good!
Amazing how much spirit a reluctant, ancient body can contain. Sometimes, even my body doesn't contain the spirit hers does.
Oh, that we could all be perfectly protected when we need it most, yet feel as though we are perfectly free.
I guess that's what we look for in our religions, isn't it. Well, religion isn't where it comes from, folks. It comes from the circumstances and practice of human love and caring
So, I'm thinking there were other things I wanted to mention, but I can't remember them. Maybe I'll get to bed before midnight tonight. I want to be at the pharmacy as soon after 0800 (opening) as possible, so that I have the pills to plan into our daily pill regimen.
I'm trying to make sure she stays interested in food by making things we don't have often and making sure we have lots of ham, another one of which I roasted tonight, putting curry powder into the glaze again. With nuked yams. Tomorrow night we'll have corned beef, maybe hash if I remember to stop at the grocery and pick up a couple of potatoes on the way back from the pharmacy. She's really enjoying the yoghurt, which is good. A nice change of pace. We're keeping up with the olives. It seems that the olives, themselves, may do most of the work of 'needed fiber'. This is one of the ways I know this debilitation is temporary...none of her other functions are being affected. In fact, they are, in some cases, at all time highs in function.
I'm glad I can provide a very low key house for her. It has only recently occurred to me that this is good for her and something she deserves. I've been worried, as some of you may remember, that I am afraid I cannot (in part because of my nature) provide her with enough stimulation to make the most of her aging assets. But, you know, maybe a home centered around her is a good trade-off. She still gets stimulation and responds well to it. She just doesn't like to look for it anymore. So, this situation is good for her.
She's such a funny woman. Today I received an order, about a year's worth of special, very fragrant, very gentle hard milled soap specifically for bathing her. I was showing it to her and she was remarking on the aromas and the packaging. I started yakking about what a good deal I got on this stuff, ordering it online, then realized she was going to ask, "How much?" and would be listening to the answer through ears honed in the era of 5ยข equaling a good tip. So, you know, I told her. And, I tried to soften the blow. But she was stunned. It would have been as though I'd told you I had just bought a year's worth of 'fancy' soap at $100 a bar, and, by the way, what a bargain!
We got past that. I distracted her with the free samples included in the order.
I also bought a couple of azaela's that look like they've been spray painted. We are going to try to keep these alive.
And, we still have Citizen Kane and M*A*S*H, both of which I know will be hits because she's seen them.
So, oh yeah. There's one movie that I've been struggling about getting, lately, mainly because it's been available and really cheap and I slink guiltily past it every time I'm at Costco: Pretty Woman. This movie is one of Mom's guilty pleasures except that she doesn't feel guilty about it. She completely identifies with the heroine. It doesn't even bother her when the concierge (and, don't get me wrong, I love Hector Elizando) say's something about "a thing of beauty" and how it's hard to part with "it" and then the entire movie falls into perspective...but, you know, every time it's on TV and I'm mindlessly reading through the movies for her I kick myself in the butt when I mindlessly read this one and she watches it from somewhere after the beginning through to the end, yet again. Yeah, I guess I should get it for her. I know, from a romance story perspective, all about what a holy grail it is. It's just that I have trouble with the idea of subsidizing that kind of romance story perspective. But, my mother doesn't.
Well, if I'm going to make it into bed before midnight, I'd better start now.
Later.
An "I was just thinking..." thought:
I wonder if the DetrolLA is interfering with the antibiotic. Or if it is causing these symptoms and not an infection...hmmm, well, no, nothing that I can point to. But, I think, while she is on this course of antibiotics, since I forgot her Detrol yesterday, I'll take her off it for the next 7 days. There has been no change in urinary habits while she's been on it for the past 2+ weeks. So, let's give her bladder a rest.
Surprisingly...
...I feel very mellow today.
The big news continues to be Mom's UTI.
My plan has changed after a surprise consult with Mom. Because I'd stayed up so late yesterday, I managed to turn off my alarm (which was set for 0700) in my sleep. I awoke at 0900, dashed around, showered and made coffee in preparation to go to Costco (it was necessary, today), all the while thinking:
As I walked in the door on return, Mom was walking into the bathroom. So, bath time was set. I unloaded the car, stripped her bed, turned off her machines, set up breakfast preparation, found and administered her First Thing Pills, took her through her drill as well, all the while threatening her with dire consequences if she ventured off the toilet and reminding her that I "just got back" and am doing four things at once, "...you can sit there for a minute or two and relax. It's warm. I've seen you do it before..."
When we finally settled down to her bath I began rattling off the Plan of the Day: Call doctor; get call back; take Augmentin; go pee in cup; come back; maybe then you can take a nap...
The recitation exhausted Mom. I could see it in her demeanor even though she looked well rested and pink. "We're going down to see the doctor today?!?"
"No, not today..."
"Oh. Good. That's the one in Phoenix. Good."
"We're going to the lab so you can pee in a cup."
She stared at me for some time. "Is there any way for you to handle this without me having to go out today? Or go down to the doctor?"
Hmmmm...shifting into my relatively new, Step Back, If There Is No Obvious Danger Involved, Let Go attitude: "Yeah...I could just refill the Levaquin, double you up on that for 7 days, see if that does the trick. I'll know about halfway through the course. If necessary, then, we can do the other stuff next week."
"Good. I don't know why but I'm tired today. I feel like I've been up all night."
"Well, I can only vouch for 1230 [when she went to bed] to 0345 [when I went to bed]. After that, you were under your own recognizance."
She smiled ironically at me and lifted her eyebrows as if to say, "Well, then, I guess we'll never know..."
So we're going to follow her plan even though I have a feeling the 500 mg Levaquin for 7 days isn't going to do the trick. She may have something other than e coli which responds better to another antibiotic.
She was only up for a couple of hours before she headed back to bed. I suppose I should take her temperature. I will when she awakens. Even if it's a little high, it shouldn't be too high because she's still on antibiotics. If it's more than a little high, we've got a problem.
So, other than that, I'm hanging out, doing laundry. It's cold today! Very sunny and very cold!
Later.
Okay. I should call the doctor when I get back, that way I know I'll be home when she returns the call...then, since the lab is open until 1730 and the doctor's office is open until 1600, I'll have a chance to get her in to pee in a cup before tomorrow, I've got enough Augmentin to last through tomorrow, if necessary I can always refill the Levaquin and double up on it until the urinalysis comes through, which should come through Friday midday, our FNP will be faxed the results, she'll decide what to prescribe (and whether to set up an appointment), hopefully she'll call the medication into our pharmacist up here (I think they've done that, before), I should be able to get her on it by Friday evening. If necessary while she's on it, because I'm sure it will be an antibiotic which means I'll have to watch out for her iron consumption, maybe I'll put her on two Niferex-150 tablets, morning and night, that should take care of the scheduling problem, even if she takes the new medication twice..."...and with all those words drumming a persistent "One-Two" rhythm in me I was up, showered, out and back by 1100 on the nose.
As I walked in the door on return, Mom was walking into the bathroom. So, bath time was set. I unloaded the car, stripped her bed, turned off her machines, set up breakfast preparation, found and administered her First Thing Pills, took her through her drill as well, all the while threatening her with dire consequences if she ventured off the toilet and reminding her that I "just got back" and am doing four things at once, "...you can sit there for a minute or two and relax. It's warm. I've seen you do it before..."
When we finally settled down to her bath I began rattling off the Plan of the Day: Call doctor; get call back; take Augmentin; go pee in cup; come back; maybe then you can take a nap...
The recitation exhausted Mom. I could see it in her demeanor even though she looked well rested and pink. "We're going down to see the doctor today?!?"
"No, not today..."
"Oh. Good. That's the one in Phoenix. Good."
"We're going to the lab so you can pee in a cup."
She stared at me for some time. "Is there any way for you to handle this without me having to go out today? Or go down to the doctor?"
Hmmmm...shifting into my relatively new, Step Back, If There Is No Obvious Danger Involved, Let Go attitude: "Yeah...I could just refill the Levaquin, double you up on that for 7 days, see if that does the trick. I'll know about halfway through the course. If necessary, then, we can do the other stuff next week."
"Good. I don't know why but I'm tired today. I feel like I've been up all night."
"Well, I can only vouch for 1230 [when she went to bed] to 0345 [when I went to bed]. After that, you were under your own recognizance."
She smiled ironically at me and lifted her eyebrows as if to say, "Well, then, I guess we'll never know..."
So we're going to follow her plan even though I have a feeling the 500 mg Levaquin for 7 days isn't going to do the trick. She may have something other than e coli which responds better to another antibiotic.
She was only up for a couple of hours before she headed back to bed. I suppose I should take her temperature. I will when she awakens. Even if it's a little high, it shouldn't be too high because she's still on antibiotics. If it's more than a little high, we've got a problem.
So, other than that, I'm hanging out, doing laundry. It's cold today! Very sunny and very cold!
Later.
The Mom just re-retired...
...after tossing and turning and deciding she'd gone to bed too early. We talked a bit then watched another Kung Fu episode. She may, indeed, have been too well rested to retire early, tonight. I also know that she is being agitated by an unfortunate incident that occurred today. I decided to do a jacket laundry, something I do once a year if there appears to be no reason to do it before. I pulled all the jackets out onto the floor in front of Mom and me to give her a sense of participation and started going through the pockets. In one of the pockets of Mom's beloved light pink jacket was an empty pack of the cigarettes she used to smoke.
We were forced to go through the story of her quitting, again, setting it in time and place and circumstance; we reviewed the advantages to her and to me since she's quit.
When these fits occur she remembers having smoked "earlier today" or "yesterday". Today, she remembered smoking "last week" and, stretching it a little, she's almost right. She smoked all afternoon and evening the day we went to see her doctor and visited MCF & Family.
I want those of you who love my mother to know that if I thought it didn't matter whether she smoked I'd let her smoke. I allowed it for a long time. I'd also let her continue if the emotional component of quitting was hard for her to bear and outweighed the physical benefits. As it turns out, the emotional component, for her, was just an occasional itch. The physical component was taken care of during three weeks of hospital care.
I have often fantasized that I will know within a week, maybe a month, when she will die. At that time, if I understand that she will be more enjoyably engaged smoking cigarettes and talking away the days in memory with me then that's what we'll do. When it no longer matters anymore whether she smokes and there is no reason to consider its presence an irritant to her then I think it will be appropriate for my mother to be holding a cigarette and blowing smoke when St. Peter taps her on the shoulder.
We were forced to go through the story of her quitting, again, setting it in time and place and circumstance; we reviewed the advantages to her and to me since she's quit.
When these fits occur she remembers having smoked "earlier today" or "yesterday". Today, she remembered smoking "last week" and, stretching it a little, she's almost right. She smoked all afternoon and evening the day we went to see her doctor and visited MCF & Family.
I want those of you who love my mother to know that if I thought it didn't matter whether she smoked I'd let her smoke. I allowed it for a long time. I'd also let her continue if the emotional component of quitting was hard for her to bear and outweighed the physical benefits. As it turns out, the emotional component, for her, was just an occasional itch. The physical component was taken care of during three weeks of hospital care.
I have often fantasized that I will know within a week, maybe a month, when she will die. At that time, if I understand that she will be more enjoyably engaged smoking cigarettes and talking away the days in memory with me then that's what we'll do. When it no longer matters anymore whether she smokes and there is no reason to consider its presence an irritant to her then I think it will be appropriate for my mother to be holding a cigarette and blowing smoke when St. Peter taps her on the shoulder.
Tuesday, February 8, 2005
Well, damn! I laid down just before 1600...
...and that was all she wrote until a little after 2000. Do I feel better? A little. I'm propped up with ibuprofen. And coffee. Is Mom okay? Indubitably. She scrounged lunch for herself, which included (but was probably not limited to) 8 oz yoghurt and about a quarter of a quart jar of MCS's Bread and Butter pickles. I'm smiling as I write this. I wouldn't even guess about her blood sugar, and I didn't bother with stats before dinner. Didn't bother to fix dinner. Went for fast food, instead. The problem with rural, primarily tourist towns is that on a Tuesday (oh, shit, tomorrow's garbage day) night in the winter apparently KFC closes down their kitchens ("We're out...we're out...I only have one of those...") an hour before closing their window. That's okay, though. We were long overdue for some real junk food.
So, I added a search engine to the movie site. There is a link to the right, as well, at the bottom of my growing list of internal, egocentric links.
I've concocted my UTI plan. I could have done some of it today except that I guess I needed to be sick and sleep four hours, instead. Call doctor's office tomorrow and ask for FNP. Probably wait for return call. Advise status of UTI, make sure the blanket order has been faxed to the Prescott lab, consult on triggering that order for a urinalysis tomorrow, continue with Augmentin 437.5 mg tomorrow, 291.33 mg the following day unless we are written a different prescription, consult on whether to just double up on the Levaquin (inadvisable, I did that for 3 days and it had little effect) or put her on something stronger, ask for a call to the Prescott pharmacy, go pick up pills. The prescription will probably be written sometimes Thursday, since my guess is that the doctors' office will wait for the analysis of her urine.
Mom doesn't feel sick, doesn't act sick except she's more tired than usual, but that is only by a little bit. I, however, am being knocked for an unexpected loop by this cold, or allergic reaction to something, or, I don't know. Of course, I was up late last night. But awoke very late this morning.
So, since I awoke (probably from before I awoke) the song "Something's Coming", from the original Broadway cast album of West Side Story has been playing around through my head. Hmmm..."Who knooooows..."
So, I added a search engine to the movie site. There is a link to the right, as well, at the bottom of my growing list of internal, egocentric links.
I've concocted my UTI plan. I could have done some of it today except that I guess I needed to be sick and sleep four hours, instead. Call doctor's office tomorrow and ask for FNP. Probably wait for return call. Advise status of UTI, make sure the blanket order has been faxed to the Prescott lab, consult on triggering that order for a urinalysis tomorrow, continue with Augmentin 437.5 mg tomorrow, 291.33 mg the following day unless we are written a different prescription, consult on whether to just double up on the Levaquin (inadvisable, I did that for 3 days and it had little effect) or put her on something stronger, ask for a call to the Prescott pharmacy, go pick up pills. The prescription will probably be written sometimes Thursday, since my guess is that the doctors' office will wait for the analysis of her urine.
Mom doesn't feel sick, doesn't act sick except she's more tired than usual, but that is only by a little bit. I, however, am being knocked for an unexpected loop by this cold, or allergic reaction to something, or, I don't know. Of course, I was up late last night. But awoke very late this morning.
So, since I awoke (probably from before I awoke) the song "Something's Coming", from the original Broadway cast album of West Side Story has been playing around through my head. Hmmm..."Who knooooows..."
Oh, you know what? Forgot to mention...
...I haven't checked the links over at the movie site. It's underwhelming popularity appears to be giving me a generous window within which to do this. Remain patient. I was careful but I'm sure there are errors somewhere.
I'm pretty pleased with my effort, over at the movie site...
...listed in the links to the right, but nobody's visiting. It's kind of entertaining for me, much like the effort was.
Today is one of my worse days. I didn't awaken until 1047. Really late for me. My head was draining fluids from every orifice except my ears. I was coughing and sneezing and congested...oh my! Nothing really bad, just annoying. Low energy, although once I started my chores I flew through them and did extra.
I was dejected, but not surprised, to discover the continuance of my mother's UTI about which I've written at the aforeconstructed link, which lands you at today's breakfast review. I no longer freak as I did the first time she had one but I'm not happy. This is serious. I've begun to formulate a plan. I'll probably call her FNP tomorrow. The plan may have to involve an appointment down there, but maybe not, between her newly established monthly urinalyses up here and phone contact she may be able to prescribe for whatever this one is. I have just been assuming it's e coli. Perhaps it's not. I'm sure we'll get past this. I'm just not in the mood for it today.
She's napping now. I may go in for a nap. I may not. I'm not sure. I took some ibuprofen. I'm not sure why but I feel better, although a little numb. Anyway, I think what we have left of the Augmentin, which she took at the beginning of this particular UTI [yes, that's how long it's continued] that will buy us some time to get a lab result and prescribe correctly. I swear, I am my mother's unlicensed, unacknowledged medical Primary Care Provider! I think I liked it the other way better, where someone else with a degree did this, but you know, there's a reason why we're now doing this and until that reason is addressed, those of us who give avocational but very formal care to loved ones will be the care recipients' PCPs.
I think I can get a nap in. Maybe I can get The Little Girl to sleep with me. Sleeping with kitties is always healing.
Today is one of my worse days. I didn't awaken until 1047. Really late for me. My head was draining fluids from every orifice except my ears. I was coughing and sneezing and congested...oh my! Nothing really bad, just annoying. Low energy, although once I started my chores I flew through them and did extra.
I was dejected, but not surprised, to discover the continuance of my mother's UTI about which I've written at the aforeconstructed link, which lands you at today's breakfast review. I no longer freak as I did the first time she had one but I'm not happy. This is serious. I've begun to formulate a plan. I'll probably call her FNP tomorrow. The plan may have to involve an appointment down there, but maybe not, between her newly established monthly urinalyses up here and phone contact she may be able to prescribe for whatever this one is. I have just been assuming it's e coli. Perhaps it's not. I'm sure we'll get past this. I'm just not in the mood for it today.
She's napping now. I may go in for a nap. I may not. I'm not sure. I took some ibuprofen. I'm not sure why but I feel better, although a little numb. Anyway, I think what we have left of the Augmentin, which she took at the beginning of this particular UTI [yes, that's how long it's continued] that will buy us some time to get a lab result and prescribe correctly. I swear, I am my mother's unlicensed, unacknowledged medical Primary Care Provider! I think I liked it the other way better, where someone else with a degree did this, but you know, there's a reason why we're now doing this and until that reason is addressed, those of us who give avocational but very formal care to loved ones will be the care recipients' PCPs.
I think I can get a nap in. Maybe I can get The Little Girl to sleep with me. Sleeping with kitties is always healing.
Whew! Well, that was exhilarating!
I just finished our up-to-the-minute catalogue of dvds over at Movies, Mom and Me. No one's more surprised than I. I learned a lot from doing it and became so intrigued I couldn't stop until I reached the end.
So, anyway, how's Trix?
We had a bit of a tense encounter this evening. I still do not understand where it came from, how it developed, why it happened. Most of the day we spent in our own reveries: Me doing this and chores and getting tax papers together; she reading her new gossip magazines as though she was expecting a pop quiz. Mom did not sleep overly much, stayed up until after 2300 tonight. Although there was no tension between us, very little conversation took place.
Around 2200 she headed into the bathroom. I was folding laundry. I stopped what I was doing and followed her in. Sometimes she does and sometimes she doesn't, but, tonight, she did: She decided to preserve her dignity by making more than light of my solicitiousness, making fun of it. More often than not I do not feel attacked or invaded by her strategies to preserve her dignity in a delicate situation. Tonight, though, I was overtaken by the urge to 'set her straight'. Let me think, for a minute, try to remember some of the stuff I said, with an edge, mind you, although not a very sharp edge. I wasn't angry, I was just spouting for only the gods know what reason. Anyway. I remember saying something about how what I do is neither funny nor oversolicitious, it is what keeps her alive and comfortable and safe. If it were silly I would not have been doing it for the last 11 years. I have learned, over these years (I repeated the number of years several times) to do only what is necessary. The older one becomes, the more that becomes necessary. Blah, blah, blah.
My mother bore it well, leaning out of my way, physically, almost against the shower door, looking at me as if to wonder, "I thought she stopped having periods...". She did, bless her heart and shrivel mine, apologize for making light of my contribution to her life and our life together. I'm glad she did this, even though it made me feel like a shit. It also alerted me that she'd heard what I'd said, considered it, and decided that some of it, not the hysterical stuff but some of it, had merit.
She has always been a hard woman to ruffle.
So, I made some notes throughout the day, hold on...
I'll probably get to them sometime tomorrow.
You know, I'm aware that my level of involvement in what I'm doing with my mother, through and because of this collection of journals, approaches the masturbatory, at times. However, I am, you know, driven to do this, and do this I will. In surprising, often extraneous, detail.
Later.
So, anyway, how's Trix?
We had a bit of a tense encounter this evening. I still do not understand where it came from, how it developed, why it happened. Most of the day we spent in our own reveries: Me doing this and chores and getting tax papers together; she reading her new gossip magazines as though she was expecting a pop quiz. Mom did not sleep overly much, stayed up until after 2300 tonight. Although there was no tension between us, very little conversation took place.
Around 2200 she headed into the bathroom. I was folding laundry. I stopped what I was doing and followed her in. Sometimes she does and sometimes she doesn't, but, tonight, she did: She decided to preserve her dignity by making more than light of my solicitiousness, making fun of it. More often than not I do not feel attacked or invaded by her strategies to preserve her dignity in a delicate situation. Tonight, though, I was overtaken by the urge to 'set her straight'. Let me think, for a minute, try to remember some of the stuff I said, with an edge, mind you, although not a very sharp edge. I wasn't angry, I was just spouting for only the gods know what reason. Anyway. I remember saying something about how what I do is neither funny nor oversolicitious, it is what keeps her alive and comfortable and safe. If it were silly I would not have been doing it for the last 11 years. I have learned, over these years (I repeated the number of years several times) to do only what is necessary. The older one becomes, the more that becomes necessary. Blah, blah, blah.
My mother bore it well, leaning out of my way, physically, almost against the shower door, looking at me as if to wonder, "I thought she stopped having periods...". She did, bless her heart and shrivel mine, apologize for making light of my contribution to her life and our life together. I'm glad she did this, even though it made me feel like a shit. It also alerted me that she'd heard what I'd said, considered it, and decided that some of it, not the hysterical stuff but some of it, had merit.
She has always been a hard woman to ruffle.
So, I made some notes throughout the day, hold on...
I'll probably get to them sometime tomorrow.
You know, I'm aware that my level of involvement in what I'm doing with my mother, through and because of this collection of journals, approaches the masturbatory, at times. However, I am, you know, driven to do this, and do this I will. In surprising, often extraneous, detail.
Later.
Monday, February 7, 2005
So, yet another edition of...
...Movies, Mom and Me has been published. I don't know about you guys but I'm having fun with this.
I am bracing for tomorrow: Her first day off the antibiotic course. I hope this got it. I will probably, again, obsessively, clean her toilet.
I may not go anywhere, today. It's rainy. I'm enjoying it. I have no idea what we'll have for dinner. Maybe potato soup with additions, including sausage, and garlic bread.
Some things I want to remember to do
...later.
I am bracing for tomorrow: Her first day off the antibiotic course. I hope this got it. I will probably, again, obsessively, clean her toilet.
I may not go anywhere, today. It's rainy. I'm enjoying it. I have no idea what we'll have for dinner. Maybe potato soup with additions, including sausage, and garlic bread.
Some things I want to remember to do
- reread and possibly quote part of an enforced monologue with a distanced friend
- maybe enter another edition in the movie section, maybe I'll start that now, and work on it until Mom awakes; we're having ham, which is quick and easy. Damn good stats last night, by the way. I'm encouraged.
- Hmmm...I will have to go out once today...maybe during her nap. I can pick up another loaf of sourdough at the same time.
...later.
I notice, with irony...
...that the active journal on the extension that hosts =>Moving =>Mom also hosts Movies, Mom and Me. I guess that's Ancienthood catching up with one. I still have hopes for more movement, but I've made peace with whatever happens.
Today, sleep happened, much of it, for all denizens of this household. I don't know what happened to me. I subconsciously clued Mom, when she laid down for a nap, that I might try to catch a nap, too, so if she wanted to snooze deep, that was fine with me. I laid down about three and didn't arise until a little after 1800. Mom said she'd been up for awhile, but it didn't look like it; she hadn't yet attempted to find food by the time I awoke.
Anyway, obviously, both of us slept through lunch, especially since we both had an "early" breakfast. So, we had breakfast (and I had coffee) for dinner. We spent the evening watching The Forgotten, after which, as the credits rolled, we looked at each other and said, simultaneously, "What was that about?!?" Better forgotten.
She went to bed early, again, for her and for me. Her urine still appears to me to be cloudy, but maybe that's the toilet. It's possible that the toilet water is corrupted with all the stuff I use to clean it often.
So, I'm sitting here trying to decide whether to go to bed right away or stay up for awhile, make myself some (decaf) chocolate raspberry mocha and maybe enter another 10 movies.
Later.
Today, sleep happened, much of it, for all denizens of this household. I don't know what happened to me. I subconsciously clued Mom, when she laid down for a nap, that I might try to catch a nap, too, so if she wanted to snooze deep, that was fine with me. I laid down about three and didn't arise until a little after 1800. Mom said she'd been up for awhile, but it didn't look like it; she hadn't yet attempted to find food by the time I awoke.
Anyway, obviously, both of us slept through lunch, especially since we both had an "early" breakfast. So, we had breakfast (and I had coffee) for dinner. We spent the evening watching The Forgotten, after which, as the credits rolled, we looked at each other and said, simultaneously, "What was that about?!?" Better forgotten.
She went to bed early, again, for her and for me. Her urine still appears to me to be cloudy, but maybe that's the toilet. It's possible that the toilet water is corrupted with all the stuff I use to clean it often.
So, I'm sitting here trying to decide whether to go to bed right away or stay up for awhile, make myself some (decaf) chocolate raspberry mocha and maybe enter another 10 movies.
Later.
Sunday, February 6, 2005
So, yes, I guess I'd better officially launch...
...Movies, Mom and Me. If any of you have checked in since the unofficial debut, I've been experimenting, have found that this particular template has an interesting and obtuse idea about what to do with tables, so devised another method of linear listing. There is an alpa index in the links section to the left of the movie "synopses" which will be updated as is the journal. Once our initial estate of movies is entered, I don't expect it will update itself too soon.
It will probably be awhile before I enter the listing of movies we wish we owned. Paralell, almost, there are only three movies, so far, that I Wish I Would Have Rented, Instead, those being: The Clearing, Born on the Fourth of July and Sneakers. They were all better in the remembrance.
Mom started her day early and is now napping early. Rain is supposed to come in this evening. Snow still clings to the part of our backyard in shadow, so, although in general the ground has not frozen this year, it has frozen in northern shaded patches. I've noticed this as I've driven my crazy backroad, through-the-woods routes through this town-city.
Later.
It will probably be awhile before I enter the listing of movies we wish we owned. Paralell, almost, there are only three movies, so far, that I Wish I Would Have Rented, Instead, those being: The Clearing, Born on the Fourth of July and Sneakers. They were all better in the remembrance.
Mom started her day early and is now napping early. Rain is supposed to come in this evening. Snow still clings to the part of our backyard in shadow, so, although in general the ground has not frozen this year, it has frozen in northern shaded patches. I've noticed this as I've driven my crazy backroad, through-the-woods routes through this town-city.
Later.
