Friday, May 27, 2005
Yes, I've got stats to enter...yes, I'm behind.
Later.
The Bowl of Provocative Thoughts
Today, in a spark of inspired thinking, I came up with this device which my mother loves and to which she took like a duck to water.
The brand of detox tea she drinks fashions the bags at the end of a string with a paper tag on which are printed little sayings which are anywhere from inspirational to "gag-me" quality. Because the print is tiny I read that morning's saying to her and if she find it interesting we talk about its meaning while she drinks her tea. On my own I've been saving them because I had a hunch that she would, at some time, ask if I'd been doing this, which she did today.
When I gathered them up from the coffee-and-tea-and-cocoa-making part of the counter where I'd simply been leaving them scattered among the boxes and jars and machines, it occurred to me that we should put them in a container so that, when appropriate, either of us or visitors could reach into the jar and pull out a surprise provocative thought.
We riffed, a bit, on the possibilities. When my sisters and I were kids and we'd become annoyingly giddy, my mother would say, "I think someone needs to go to the bathroom." She was always right about this. We conjectured that when one or the other of us or a familiar visitor displayed a morbid or otherwise difficult trend we'd be able to say, "I think someone needs to visit The Bowl of Provocative Thoughts." I mentioned that this phrase is also an excellent euphemism for "toilet" and we were off and running.
We also decided that during MCS's next visit with her daughter, which will probably occur in a month or so, thinking up and writing down provocative thoughts to place in the bowl would be a great around-the-table-in-the-evening project. We usually do evening projects at the table when they visit.
The brand of detox tea she drinks fashions the bags at the end of a string with a paper tag on which are printed little sayings which are anywhere from inspirational to "gag-me" quality. Because the print is tiny I read that morning's saying to her and if she find it interesting we talk about its meaning while she drinks her tea. On my own I've been saving them because I had a hunch that she would, at some time, ask if I'd been doing this, which she did today.
When I gathered them up from the coffee-and-tea-and-cocoa-making part of the counter where I'd simply been leaving them scattered among the boxes and jars and machines, it occurred to me that we should put them in a container so that, when appropriate, either of us or visitors could reach into the jar and pull out a surprise provocative thought.
We riffed, a bit, on the possibilities. When my sisters and I were kids and we'd become annoyingly giddy, my mother would say, "I think someone needs to go to the bathroom." She was always right about this. We conjectured that when one or the other of us or a familiar visitor displayed a morbid or otherwise difficult trend we'd be able to say, "I think someone needs to visit The Bowl of Provocative Thoughts." I mentioned that this phrase is also an excellent euphemism for "toilet" and we were off and running.
We also decided that during MCS's next visit with her daughter, which will probably occur in a month or so, thinking up and writing down provocative thoughts to place in the bowl would be a great around-the-table-in-the-evening project. We usually do evening projects at the table when they visit.
We had one of those rip roarin' "Yes you can, goddamnit...
...yes you will, goddamnit" days today. It's days like these that cause me to question how much of my mother's short term/long term memory loss is self-selected. I don't think the majority of it is, but she has her moments...
As you know, over the last six days I've instituted formal modified therapy exercise sessions (and unusually regular doses of extra strength acetaminophen) every other day. We aren't yet walkering her during the inbetween days but we're getting there. She's taken the sessions well, done well, except that she's also increased the time she's sleeping. Because she's also been citing the Wondrous FNP's cautionary descriptions of how she will become more tired as time goes on, I've been reluctant to haul the woman out of bed and get her going. To be fair, some of these marathon sleep sessions have involved late nights, thus, on some she isn't sleeping a lot more than normal, but, well, over the last few days she's been putting it away like a sleep glutton. I find it curious and interesting in the extreme that she can remember what the FNP said about sleep (which my mother absolutely loves) without prompting.
After three days of my mother getting up, eating, peeing, turning around and heading back to bed while responding, "No, I'm not bored, I'm just tired," to my queries I finally had it today. Yes, she went to bed late last night, about 2300. Thus, I started teasing her awake at 15 minute intervals at 1100 this morning. I wasn't successful at getting her out of bed until 1300. Once we'd bathed her, she'd had breakfast and perused her latest tabloid, not two hours after arising she was taking off her glasses and positioning herself in her chair toward the bedroom.
"You're not going back to bed?!?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. I'm tired. The doctor (she considers the FNP her doctor) said this would happen."
I silently blocked her path for a good minute, gathering my, "Okay, this is it, I've had it" storm. Then, I spoke. "You know what, Mom? I remember what the FNP said, too, and I remember her entire explanation, chronic renal failure, anemia due to chronic disease, blah, blah, blah. But, Mom, you're nowhere near the end of this road. In fact, your last lab work, drawn exactly a week ago, showed that your anemia remains stable and normal for you even though it's dipped a bit and, surprise, surprise, your kidneys are absolutely fine! Your BUN wasn't even elevated, this time. You have absolutely no excuse for going back to bed except that you've made living in bed a habit and I've allowed it. Well, this is it, woman. No more. Not only are you not going back to bed, but I think this might be a good time to do your exercises."
She returned my lecture with an equally stern, equally displeased stare. "Why." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"Because. Just as the more you sleep the more you want to sleep, the more you move the more you'll want to move. Believe me, I'll know when sleeping until the cows come home is appropriate for you. It's not now and I know this because your lab work tells me so. Come on. We're going to do some moving, and I'm going to work you today. Prepare for Your Daughter the Drill Sergeant. You're taking advantage of my niceness, again, so I'm not going to be nice anymore."
She grumbled all the way, but she also followed my lead. I upped reps. I added a few exercises. She's not yet ready to do the standing ones but she's I suspect it won't be long until she is. She took it on the chin and came back swinging. After her post-session breather she was no longer interested in taking a nap. All her life she has sworn that when she exercises it makes her hungry so I was prepared for that. I offered her a bowl of mini dill pickles, in which she delighted. She, essentially, had two meals, breakfast and dinner, today, and two snacks, the pickles and some yoghurt. She spontaneously got in and out of her rocker more than usual to throw away her gathered Kleenexes. She didn't need to be herded to the bathroom every two hours because she discovered, on her own, at about those intervals, that she needed to go. She was thirstier than usual so not only did I not have to coax her to drink, she noticed her own thirst.
Moving is still good for her. It's not yet beyond her. She's got a few tricks left in her, and, it appears, a few more years in which to ply those tricks.
I am, of course, completely and constantly dilligent in looking for signs that I'll need to ease up here and there let her have a day of bedding her body, etc. But chronic renal failure (which I'm sure she has) is going to be a long, long path for her and she's only at the trailhead. I know this because, even after months of inactivity, her kidneys continue to rally. They're rallying now. I'm not going to make any grandiose pronouncements like, for instance, that I'll be able to convince her to travel to see relatives, etc. Maybe, but, then again, maybe not. I do know, though, that we're going to get her out again, and more, and that she will, in time and for awhile, enjoy it.
I've thought about this a lot. What it finally came down to is that I can either let her die by allowing her to take to her bed prematurely or set up circumstances so that she may die on her feet. Somehow, I think, once she regains the hang of it, she'll prefer the latter.
As you know, over the last six days I've instituted formal modified therapy exercise sessions (and unusually regular doses of extra strength acetaminophen) every other day. We aren't yet walkering her during the inbetween days but we're getting there. She's taken the sessions well, done well, except that she's also increased the time she's sleeping. Because she's also been citing the Wondrous FNP's cautionary descriptions of how she will become more tired as time goes on, I've been reluctant to haul the woman out of bed and get her going. To be fair, some of these marathon sleep sessions have involved late nights, thus, on some she isn't sleeping a lot more than normal, but, well, over the last few days she's been putting it away like a sleep glutton. I find it curious and interesting in the extreme that she can remember what the FNP said about sleep (which my mother absolutely loves) without prompting.
After three days of my mother getting up, eating, peeing, turning around and heading back to bed while responding, "No, I'm not bored, I'm just tired," to my queries I finally had it today. Yes, she went to bed late last night, about 2300. Thus, I started teasing her awake at 15 minute intervals at 1100 this morning. I wasn't successful at getting her out of bed until 1300. Once we'd bathed her, she'd had breakfast and perused her latest tabloid, not two hours after arising she was taking off her glasses and positioning herself in her chair toward the bedroom.
"You're not going back to bed?!?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. I'm tired. The doctor (she considers the FNP her doctor) said this would happen."
I silently blocked her path for a good minute, gathering my, "Okay, this is it, I've had it" storm. Then, I spoke. "You know what, Mom? I remember what the FNP said, too, and I remember her entire explanation, chronic renal failure, anemia due to chronic disease, blah, blah, blah. But, Mom, you're nowhere near the end of this road. In fact, your last lab work, drawn exactly a week ago, showed that your anemia remains stable and normal for you even though it's dipped a bit and, surprise, surprise, your kidneys are absolutely fine! Your BUN wasn't even elevated, this time. You have absolutely no excuse for going back to bed except that you've made living in bed a habit and I've allowed it. Well, this is it, woman. No more. Not only are you not going back to bed, but I think this might be a good time to do your exercises."
She returned my lecture with an equally stern, equally displeased stare. "Why." It wasn't a question, it was a statement.
"Because. Just as the more you sleep the more you want to sleep, the more you move the more you'll want to move. Believe me, I'll know when sleeping until the cows come home is appropriate for you. It's not now and I know this because your lab work tells me so. Come on. We're going to do some moving, and I'm going to work you today. Prepare for Your Daughter the Drill Sergeant. You're taking advantage of my niceness, again, so I'm not going to be nice anymore."
She grumbled all the way, but she also followed my lead. I upped reps. I added a few exercises. She's not yet ready to do the standing ones but she's I suspect it won't be long until she is. She took it on the chin and came back swinging. After her post-session breather she was no longer interested in taking a nap. All her life she has sworn that when she exercises it makes her hungry so I was prepared for that. I offered her a bowl of mini dill pickles, in which she delighted. She, essentially, had two meals, breakfast and dinner, today, and two snacks, the pickles and some yoghurt. She spontaneously got in and out of her rocker more than usual to throw away her gathered Kleenexes. She didn't need to be herded to the bathroom every two hours because she discovered, on her own, at about those intervals, that she needed to go. She was thirstier than usual so not only did I not have to coax her to drink, she noticed her own thirst.
Moving is still good for her. It's not yet beyond her. She's got a few tricks left in her, and, it appears, a few more years in which to ply those tricks.
I am, of course, completely and constantly dilligent in looking for signs that I'll need to ease up here and there let her have a day of bedding her body, etc. But chronic renal failure (which I'm sure she has) is going to be a long, long path for her and she's only at the trailhead. I know this because, even after months of inactivity, her kidneys continue to rally. They're rallying now. I'm not going to make any grandiose pronouncements like, for instance, that I'll be able to convince her to travel to see relatives, etc. Maybe, but, then again, maybe not. I do know, though, that we're going to get her out again, and more, and that she will, in time and for awhile, enjoy it.
I've thought about this a lot. What it finally came down to is that I can either let her die by allowing her to take to her bed prematurely or set up circumstances so that she may die on her feet. Somehow, I think, once she regains the hang of it, she'll prefer the latter.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Good Mood, Good Cop, Good Deal
Mom's bedtime was 2300 tonight, so it'll be 1100 tomorrow, if she doesn't awaken on her own before then.
I couldn't help it, I was curious to see if she was going to stand by her Bad Mood statements this morning. This evening, sometime after exercising, during one of the commercials on Dr. Phil (not one of her constant favorites but she'd caught a commercial last night that tonight's show was going to be about desperate husbands and she asked me to remind her to watch it tonight) I gently advanced.
"Mom," I asked, "do you remember your bad mood this morning?"
She gave me one of her tight lipped, no curls at the edges, "fuck you" grins. I wasn't sure if that meant, "Yeah, I remember...ya wanna make somethin' of it?" or "Bad Mood?!? Me?!?" but it didn't matter. I pressed on.
"You mentioned two things and I wondered if they reflect your true desires (I hammed it up on "true desires" to lighten the mood)."
"Well, if I said them, I'm sure I meant them."
"Well, let me run them by you, just in case. First, you said that you didn't like the home baked bread as much as store bought bread."
Her eyebrows shot up as though she was accusing me of lying.
I continued. "So, I was wondering, should I stop making bread in the bread machine?" She was munching on a piece of fresh 100% whole wheat bread, which turned out mighty fine, thank you, spread with home made raspberry honey butter, while I was asking her this.
"Heavens no, child!"
"You like it, then?"
"This is delicious!" I'd insisted that we both try a piece without anything followed by a piece with the spread.
"Okay. I'll probably make the potato bread this weekend."
"Mmmmm! Wonderful! [Her deceased sister] made awfully good potato bread, you know."
"I know. One of the very few regrets of my life was that I never asked her to teach me how to make it before she, you know, wasn't able to teach me, anymore."
"I know. I've made bread by hand but I've never been very good at it."
"I know."
She shot me another "fuck you" grin.
"Well, you know, I remember on Guam, sometimes it turned out and sometimes it didn't."
"Could have been the humidity, you know."
"Yeah, and it could have been that the flour was usually alive and the yeast usually wasn't."
We both laughed at the shared memories.
"What else?" she prompted.
I was surprised she prompted me. Exercise becomes her, even though she doesn't think so. "Well, you know, the Deadwood DVDs of the first season are due to arrive tomorrow. You said this morning that you didn't want to watch it anymore..."
Another sharp glance of shock. "I what?!? You must have misunderstood."
"No, I told you, you were in a bad mood."
"Well, I guess I really must have been. Of course I want to see the first season."
"And you want to keep the DVDs?"
"Of course!"
"The violence and the language really doesn't bother you?"
A last long, sly glance. "I've heard those words once before."
I posed innocence. "Really! I can't imagine where..."
"Why was I in a bad mood?"
"Oh, because you didn't want to walker around New Frontiers with me and I was insisting."
She looked back at the TV. "Oh. Well, that's a good reason to be in a bad mood."
"Yeah, I learned my lesson."
It was after this that our discussion of walkering, the whys and wherefores, took place, which I covered in today's exercise session post over at =>Moving =>Mom.
So, everything turned out okay. When I was thinking about it I realized that good psychological tactics between peers in a relationship (and, for all practical purposes, my mother and I are peers in living together) doesn't imply manipulation, successful or otherwise. If one of the relators is manipulating the other, then the manipulator doesn't consider the manipulated a peer. Sometimes, as in the case of a parent-to-child relationship, manipulation works, but, of course, once the child becomes an adult it does nothing but strain the relationship. As well, if the relators in any relationship have been acknowledging each other as peers, when manipulation begins relating stops, whether or not the one on whom the manipulation is being attempted is aware of this. Although I'd never consciously lingualized this to myself, I try to practice non-manipulative psychology, which involves truth telling and revisiting difficult and easy moments, all the time with my mother. It takes a greater amount of effort to practice this with someone who has short and long term memory blips but it's worth the effort. If I didn't do this I know our relationship wouldn't remain dynamic. It would stagnate in the Caregiver/Care Recipient Zone and both of us would be the poorer for it.
Other things are on my mind, observations I noticed tonight, other things I thought about, but, well, I've got my mind on tomorrow and I need to arise early, so...
...later.
I couldn't help it, I was curious to see if she was going to stand by her Bad Mood statements this morning. This evening, sometime after exercising, during one of the commercials on Dr. Phil (not one of her constant favorites but she'd caught a commercial last night that tonight's show was going to be about desperate husbands and she asked me to remind her to watch it tonight) I gently advanced.
"Mom," I asked, "do you remember your bad mood this morning?"
She gave me one of her tight lipped, no curls at the edges, "fuck you" grins. I wasn't sure if that meant, "Yeah, I remember...ya wanna make somethin' of it?" or "Bad Mood?!? Me?!?" but it didn't matter. I pressed on.
"You mentioned two things and I wondered if they reflect your true desires (I hammed it up on "true desires" to lighten the mood)."
"Well, if I said them, I'm sure I meant them."
"Well, let me run them by you, just in case. First, you said that you didn't like the home baked bread as much as store bought bread."
Her eyebrows shot up as though she was accusing me of lying.
I continued. "So, I was wondering, should I stop making bread in the bread machine?" She was munching on a piece of fresh 100% whole wheat bread, which turned out mighty fine, thank you, spread with home made raspberry honey butter, while I was asking her this.
"Heavens no, child!"
"You like it, then?"
"This is delicious!" I'd insisted that we both try a piece without anything followed by a piece with the spread.
"Okay. I'll probably make the potato bread this weekend."
"Mmmmm! Wonderful! [Her deceased sister] made awfully good potato bread, you know."
"I know. One of the very few regrets of my life was that I never asked her to teach me how to make it before she, you know, wasn't able to teach me, anymore."
"I know. I've made bread by hand but I've never been very good at it."
"I know."
She shot me another "fuck you" grin.
"Well, you know, I remember on Guam, sometimes it turned out and sometimes it didn't."
"Could have been the humidity, you know."
"Yeah, and it could have been that the flour was usually alive and the yeast usually wasn't."
We both laughed at the shared memories.
"What else?" she prompted.
I was surprised she prompted me. Exercise becomes her, even though she doesn't think so. "Well, you know, the Deadwood DVDs of the first season are due to arrive tomorrow. You said this morning that you didn't want to watch it anymore..."
Another sharp glance of shock. "I what?!? You must have misunderstood."
"No, I told you, you were in a bad mood."
"Well, I guess I really must have been. Of course I want to see the first season."
"And you want to keep the DVDs?"
"Of course!"
"The violence and the language really doesn't bother you?"
A last long, sly glance. "I've heard those words once before."
I posed innocence. "Really! I can't imagine where..."
"Why was I in a bad mood?"
"Oh, because you didn't want to walker around New Frontiers with me and I was insisting."
She looked back at the TV. "Oh. Well, that's a good reason to be in a bad mood."
"Yeah, I learned my lesson."
It was after this that our discussion of walkering, the whys and wherefores, took place, which I covered in today's exercise session post over at =>Moving =>Mom.
So, everything turned out okay. When I was thinking about it I realized that good psychological tactics between peers in a relationship (and, for all practical purposes, my mother and I are peers in living together) doesn't imply manipulation, successful or otherwise. If one of the relators is manipulating the other, then the manipulator doesn't consider the manipulated a peer. Sometimes, as in the case of a parent-to-child relationship, manipulation works, but, of course, once the child becomes an adult it does nothing but strain the relationship. As well, if the relators in any relationship have been acknowledging each other as peers, when manipulation begins relating stops, whether or not the one on whom the manipulation is being attempted is aware of this. Although I'd never consciously lingualized this to myself, I try to practice non-manipulative psychology, which involves truth telling and revisiting difficult and easy moments, all the time with my mother. It takes a greater amount of effort to practice this with someone who has short and long term memory blips but it's worth the effort. If I didn't do this I know our relationship wouldn't remain dynamic. It would stagnate in the Caregiver/Care Recipient Zone and both of us would be the poorer for it.
Other things are on my mind, observations I noticed tonight, other things I thought about, but, well, I've got my mind on tomorrow and I need to arise early, so...
...later.
Good Mood, Bad Cop, Bad Mood
Mom was feeling great when I awoke her. She was a little slow because I didn't wait for her to wake up on her own. Last night I said, "I've got an idea. I'm concerned about how much you're sleeping. I'm not freaking out about it but I think it might help our efforts to get you moving if you slept a bit less at night. You can still nap in the afternoon if you want. But I think when you go to bed I'll awaken you exactly 12 hours after your light goes out if you're not already up. How does that sound to you?"
"Good. Good. I think I can handle that."
So at 1030 this morning I was running my finger teasingly down her arm and whispering, "Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Hudson, you're ride's here." I love to wake her up with a variety of calls.
It took her some minutes to get her hand over the bed for blood glucose testing but once that was done she was up 'n at'em. Bathing was a breeze. We joked a bit, as usual, about my "obsession" with looking at her pee when she rises for me to wash her torso and back.
As I was finishing off the bacon, cutting into the perfectly baked loaf of bread machine bread and slipping it in the toaster I mentioned that I thought today would be a good day for a short walkering jaunt. "I've got to go to New Frontiers, Mom. You need some more aloe vera gel, we could use some more Peach Detox tea, it's probably the store where I'll find vital gluten for the wheat bread and we could pick up a potato for the potato bread you want to try. It'll be a short trip, it's a small store. I think it might be a good trip for a little walkering, today. How does that sound?"
Ooooh...should'a', could'a', would'a'...she gave me that "Watch you're mouth, girl" look and said, curtly, "We'll see..."
I let my voice vanish into dead air. Give her some time to ponder it, I thought.
Maybe 10 minutes later she said, "You know that TV show you've been watching lately at night?" Her voice was gruff. Her chin jutted toward the side window. She was avoiding eye contact with me.
I know this woman through and through, so I knew which one she meant, especially since she referred to it as the show I'd been insisting on "watching lately". I could see the storm gathering so I decided to play it light and innocent, even though I knew what was coming. "Deadwood, right?"
"Yes. I don't like that show. I don't want to watch it anymore."
I was partly amused and partly irritated. I decided to play irritated for her. "Really! Well, that's news, seeing as how a week ago you couldn't get enough of it, had me running all over town trying to find someplace where I could rent the first season, asked me to order it, which I did, and made me write down when the last episode was going to show so we wouldn't miss it."
"I guess I didn't know what I was doing."
Bad Mood City appeared to be approaching. I let it go, sort of. I couldn't resist, "Well, it's on it's way. It should be delivered tomorrow. So, I guess I'll see if I can return it or sell it to [the video store here that buys videos from customers]."
"Good."
We settled back into silence. I served breakfast. While we were eating I mentioned, "Damn, there's nothing that tastes quite like fresh bread. I wonder what it is...the yeast, maybe, or the lack of chemicals..."
"I don't care for it," she said, chewing on a hunk.
"Hmmm...that's interesting. Yesterday you tried to get me to make the wheat bread recipe without the gluten because you didn't think you could wait until today for it."
"I was probably talking off the top of my head."
"So, you're saying, you prefer store bought bread?"
"That's right."
We'd hit Second Street in Bad Mood City.
"Okay. No more fresh bread. No problem."
Mom fished for the bread recipe booklet and hid between the pages. After a few minutes she looked back out the dinette window and said (not asked, mind you), in a sour voice, "Can you tell me why I bought this house?"
At that point I had to laugh. So, I did. "Mom," I said, "you're in a bad mood. Yes, I can tell you why you bought this house, but the only time you ask that question is when you're in a bad mood and you don't like anything, including the house, and you're trying to manufacture an opening so you can tell me how much you hate the house and whatever else has gotten your goat!"
She looked down at the table and turned another page in the booklet. "Well," she said, implying the opposite, "maybe you're right."
"Okay," I said, "I know what the problem is. You don't want to do any walkering today."
Her head swiveled toward me in surprise. "No, I don't. But that doesn't have anything to do..."
"Yeah, Mom, it does. Don't worry. I've got the message. And I've read it. You don't have to go to the store with me today. We'll do your hair and I'll go to the store while it's drying."
She relaxed and took another bite of toast. "Good. Today just isn't the day for it."
I chuckled. "No, I can see that."
She took another bite of toast. "Good bread," she said. "Didn't you say you're making another loaf this afternoon?"
So, my guess is, if I tread lightly, we won't be selling the first season of Deadwood, either. Nor the house. And, we won't be doing any walkering soon.
Later today I mentioned that I thought we should at least do another round of exercises.
She made a face but agreed.
"Maybe you need to work up to walkering again, you think?"
She nodded.
"Not a problem." And, it isn't. Better, at this point, to let her decide what she wants to negotiate.
Later.
"Good. Good. I think I can handle that."
So at 1030 this morning I was running my finger teasingly down her arm and whispering, "Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Hudson, you're ride's here." I love to wake her up with a variety of calls.
It took her some minutes to get her hand over the bed for blood glucose testing but once that was done she was up 'n at'em. Bathing was a breeze. We joked a bit, as usual, about my "obsession" with looking at her pee when she rises for me to wash her torso and back.
As I was finishing off the bacon, cutting into the perfectly baked loaf of bread machine bread and slipping it in the toaster I mentioned that I thought today would be a good day for a short walkering jaunt. "I've got to go to New Frontiers, Mom. You need some more aloe vera gel, we could use some more Peach Detox tea, it's probably the store where I'll find vital gluten for the wheat bread and we could pick up a potato for the potato bread you want to try. It'll be a short trip, it's a small store. I think it might be a good trip for a little walkering, today. How does that sound?"
Ooooh...should'a', could'a', would'a'...she gave me that "Watch you're mouth, girl" look and said, curtly, "We'll see..."
I let my voice vanish into dead air. Give her some time to ponder it, I thought.
Maybe 10 minutes later she said, "You know that TV show you've been watching lately at night?" Her voice was gruff. Her chin jutted toward the side window. She was avoiding eye contact with me.
I know this woman through and through, so I knew which one she meant, especially since she referred to it as the show I'd been insisting on "watching lately". I could see the storm gathering so I decided to play it light and innocent, even though I knew what was coming. "Deadwood, right?"
"Yes. I don't like that show. I don't want to watch it anymore."
I was partly amused and partly irritated. I decided to play irritated for her. "Really! Well, that's news, seeing as how a week ago you couldn't get enough of it, had me running all over town trying to find someplace where I could rent the first season, asked me to order it, which I did, and made me write down when the last episode was going to show so we wouldn't miss it."
"I guess I didn't know what I was doing."
Bad Mood City appeared to be approaching. I let it go, sort of. I couldn't resist, "Well, it's on it's way. It should be delivered tomorrow. So, I guess I'll see if I can return it or sell it to [the video store here that buys videos from customers]."
"Good."
We settled back into silence. I served breakfast. While we were eating I mentioned, "Damn, there's nothing that tastes quite like fresh bread. I wonder what it is...the yeast, maybe, or the lack of chemicals..."
"I don't care for it," she said, chewing on a hunk.
"Hmmm...that's interesting. Yesterday you tried to get me to make the wheat bread recipe without the gluten because you didn't think you could wait until today for it."
"I was probably talking off the top of my head."
"So, you're saying, you prefer store bought bread?"
"That's right."
We'd hit Second Street in Bad Mood City.
"Okay. No more fresh bread. No problem."
Mom fished for the bread recipe booklet and hid between the pages. After a few minutes she looked back out the dinette window and said (not asked, mind you), in a sour voice, "Can you tell me why I bought this house?"
At that point I had to laugh. So, I did. "Mom," I said, "you're in a bad mood. Yes, I can tell you why you bought this house, but the only time you ask that question is when you're in a bad mood and you don't like anything, including the house, and you're trying to manufacture an opening so you can tell me how much you hate the house and whatever else has gotten your goat!"
She looked down at the table and turned another page in the booklet. "Well," she said, implying the opposite, "maybe you're right."
"Okay," I said, "I know what the problem is. You don't want to do any walkering today."
Her head swiveled toward me in surprise. "No, I don't. But that doesn't have anything to do..."
"Yeah, Mom, it does. Don't worry. I've got the message. And I've read it. You don't have to go to the store with me today. We'll do your hair and I'll go to the store while it's drying."
She relaxed and took another bite of toast. "Good. Today just isn't the day for it."
I chuckled. "No, I can see that."
She took another bite of toast. "Good bread," she said. "Didn't you say you're making another loaf this afternoon?"
So, my guess is, if I tread lightly, we won't be selling the first season of Deadwood, either. Nor the house. And, we won't be doing any walkering soon.
Later today I mentioned that I thought we should at least do another round of exercises.
She made a face but agreed.
"Maybe you need to work up to walkering again, you think?"
She nodded.
"Not a problem." And, it isn't. Better, at this point, to let her decide what she wants to negotiate.
Later.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
No exercise session today, formal or informal...
...although I've promised her one tomorrow, which promise she greeted with a wry, crooked grin. Her knees were really bothering her today; from the session, I'm sure. Otherwise she seemed okay. She said her arms didn't hurt although she didn't use them much. She was not into moving, today. For the second day in a row, though, she didn't take a nap, which is amazing in itself.
I asked her today how she felt about moving more and getting stronger so she would feel like getting out, more. "Don't you want to go around with me?" I asked.
"Oh, sometimes, maybe."
"Does it bother you to spend so much time at home?"
She shot me a very surprised look. "No! Not at all!"
Whoops! I guess we're entering a somewhat more advanced state of advanced age!
"Well," I said, "you always seem to enjoy when we do get out together, like when we go for your blood draw or I pester you into going to the store with me."
"Well, yes, I do."
"Maybe you'd like to do that a little more. Maybe we could plan some outings just to get out. The Farmer's Market will be starting soon at the square, if it hasn't already started."
"Isn't that early in the morning?"
"Well, yeah, if you want to have the pick of the produce."
"Maybe we can get our produce at the store this summer."
Sly woman.
It's hard to tell. The more she moves the more energetic she feels. I know yesterday's session was a shock to her. She hasn't done anything quite that strenuous for a long time even when she has occasionally accompanied me to the grocery in the last few months. Could be we're past surprises but it seems that every time I expect no more surprises she has yet a few in store for me.
I was apparently an awfully busy bee today, so busy that she pleaded with me to "come sit down" a couple of times while she was watching TV. So I would, then I'd notice that the fan needed cleaning or remember that I needed to thaw the hunk of ham for ham salad, etc. We played a couple of games of Sorry which I suggested just to get her to move from one room to another and negotiate the steps a couple of times. For the most part, though, her body was incorporating all her work from yesterday, I think.
For the first time since we began getting her oxygen from a local supplier we couldn't wait for our regular Thursday delivery. I had to pick up some extra tanks at the office. I know I mentioned it in the post yesterday but I wanted to make sure that those of you who know my mother well know that this isn't cause for concern. We've been using very little tanked oxygen primarily because she uses it mostly when she's moving. Initially, the more she moves, the more we use, then after a certain period of lots of movement we begin using less, again, because her aerobic capacity increases. Although only yesterday's exercise session was strenuous, I realized, when I broke the seal on her last M-6 yesterday, that she's been moving more than I realized. I think the reason it hasn't been registering with me is that the more she moves the busier I become. Although she hates acknowledging this, her movement requires more strenuous vigilance on my part.
Before starting this post I checked into the essay section and realized that I have almost more drafts than published essays. Maybe this weekend I can spend some time finishing them. Lately, I find myself going to bed and finishing them in my head, so it's definitely time to flesh them out.
Our neglected, low growing cactus has burst into bright red bloom this year, just within the last 48 hours.
The a/c hasn't been necessary yesterday or today. Mom likes the warmth and I have a bit of a problem with moving from a/c to the outdoors; body shock, I guess. Tomorrow should be a repeat of today, then we'll be cooling down while the atmosphere prepares for thunderstorms this weekend. What a wonderful summer this is turning out to be.
To bed. I'm ready.
Later.
I asked her today how she felt about moving more and getting stronger so she would feel like getting out, more. "Don't you want to go around with me?" I asked.
"Oh, sometimes, maybe."
"Does it bother you to spend so much time at home?"
She shot me a very surprised look. "No! Not at all!"
Whoops! I guess we're entering a somewhat more advanced state of advanced age!
"Well," I said, "you always seem to enjoy when we do get out together, like when we go for your blood draw or I pester you into going to the store with me."
"Well, yes, I do."
"Maybe you'd like to do that a little more. Maybe we could plan some outings just to get out. The Farmer's Market will be starting soon at the square, if it hasn't already started."
"Isn't that early in the morning?"
"Well, yeah, if you want to have the pick of the produce."
"Maybe we can get our produce at the store this summer."
Sly woman.
It's hard to tell. The more she moves the more energetic she feels. I know yesterday's session was a shock to her. She hasn't done anything quite that strenuous for a long time even when she has occasionally accompanied me to the grocery in the last few months. Could be we're past surprises but it seems that every time I expect no more surprises she has yet a few in store for me.
I was apparently an awfully busy bee today, so busy that she pleaded with me to "come sit down" a couple of times while she was watching TV. So I would, then I'd notice that the fan needed cleaning or remember that I needed to thaw the hunk of ham for ham salad, etc. We played a couple of games of Sorry which I suggested just to get her to move from one room to another and negotiate the steps a couple of times. For the most part, though, her body was incorporating all her work from yesterday, I think.
For the first time since we began getting her oxygen from a local supplier we couldn't wait for our regular Thursday delivery. I had to pick up some extra tanks at the office. I know I mentioned it in the post yesterday but I wanted to make sure that those of you who know my mother well know that this isn't cause for concern. We've been using very little tanked oxygen primarily because she uses it mostly when she's moving. Initially, the more she moves, the more we use, then after a certain period of lots of movement we begin using less, again, because her aerobic capacity increases. Although only yesterday's exercise session was strenuous, I realized, when I broke the seal on her last M-6 yesterday, that she's been moving more than I realized. I think the reason it hasn't been registering with me is that the more she moves the busier I become. Although she hates acknowledging this, her movement requires more strenuous vigilance on my part.
Before starting this post I checked into the essay section and realized that I have almost more drafts than published essays. Maybe this weekend I can spend some time finishing them. Lately, I find myself going to bed and finishing them in my head, so it's definitely time to flesh them out.
Our neglected, low growing cactus has burst into bright red bloom this year, just within the last 48 hours.
The a/c hasn't been necessary yesterday or today. Mom likes the warmth and I have a bit of a problem with moving from a/c to the outdoors; body shock, I guess. Tomorrow should be a repeat of today, then we'll be cooling down while the atmosphere prepares for thunderstorms this weekend. What a wonderful summer this is turning out to be.
To bed. I'm ready.
Later.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Check it Ooouuut!
We had our first formal exercise session in eight months early this evening! All things considered, she did good. You might want to check out my comments after the recording of the exercises we did (and didn't do).
I've had a satisfyingly domestic day, today. First, of course, the lab report. Then I finally figured out what was wrong with the bread machine, fixed it and made a perfect loaf of bread, the first of many to come. I sawed off a left over moulding from when our house was reconstructed inside after the Water Heater Flood of 2000 to fit the front of Mom's rocker so that it would remain stationary when she sits and stands. I've done a myriad of little domestic chores while Mom has watched me and Animal Planet. We reinstituted formal exercise sessions. Mom didn't feel the need to take a nap, today. I successfully negotiated her CHF mini-crisis and am pleased to say that she's doing fine. If you want to read about its resolution, check out the Tests & Meds site for today's postings. I'm feeling very warm and relaxed and good.
I'd planned on doing a bit more journal writing tonight, primarily over in the essay and food sections, but I'm tired and happy and ready for bed.
Tomorrow morning I'm going to call our oxygen supplier to see if I can pick up a few extra M-6 tanks and up our regular Thursday order. Looks like we're finally going to be needing some more.
Later.
Night.
I've had a satisfyingly domestic day, today. First, of course, the lab report. Then I finally figured out what was wrong with the bread machine, fixed it and made a perfect loaf of bread, the first of many to come. I sawed off a left over moulding from when our house was reconstructed inside after the Water Heater Flood of 2000 to fit the front of Mom's rocker so that it would remain stationary when she sits and stands. I've done a myriad of little domestic chores while Mom has watched me and Animal Planet. We reinstituted formal exercise sessions. Mom didn't feel the need to take a nap, today. I successfully negotiated her CHF mini-crisis and am pleased to say that she's doing fine. If you want to read about its resolution, check out the Tests & Meds site for today's postings. I'm feeling very warm and relaxed and good.
I'd planned on doing a bit more journal writing tonight, primarily over in the essay and food sections, but I'm tired and happy and ready for bed.
Tomorrow morning I'm going to call our oxygen supplier to see if I can pick up a few extra M-6 tanks and up our regular Thursday order. Looks like we're finally going to be needing some more.
Later.
Night.
Test Results
Here you go, if you're curious:
Blood Draw Date 5/20/05; CBC; BMP
Urinalysis Collection Date 5/20/05
She's obviously holding her own. Her hemoglobin is a point lower than last month. In fact, all her anemia indicators have dropped a bit but I'm not worried. I continue to consider that her PCP would consider her stable. Her BUN is normal, surprise, surprise and hallelujah. Her urinalysis shows that we've conquered her latest UTI.
Unless there's something I'm not catching, it looks as though there will be no reason for us to see the doctor before next month's routine catch-up. Good!
I noticed that I mistyped something when I entered her 4/13/05 report but can't find the original at the moment so I'll fix that later.
I checked Mom's feet this morning while she was sleeping (which she's still doing) before I headed out to pick up her lab report. It looks as though her body hasn't completely released the excess water but we're getting there. I'll be able to get a better idea when she's up on end. If her body is still insisting on retaining water I'll give her another 20 mg furosemide.
She seems to be feeling good. Her eyes were open when I checked her. She even insisted that she'd still be awake when I returned from the lab (which is about a 15 minute round trip from here) and asked that I get her up. When I returned, though, she was sleeping again and didn't hear me gently calling her so I'm letting her sleep in.
Yet another hot (relatively speaking; certainly not as hot as in Mesa) day. Yesterday I finally turned on the a/c in the afternoon for a couple of hours to take the edge off the living and dining area. I'm watching the local weather as I post. Yesterday's forecast predicted that today would be warmer but we've got a nice breeze going so I'm thinking that it may be the same or cooler. Ah, here we go, let's see: Yesterday's actual downtown was 93, which means we were in the high 80s. Today, the high is predicted to be 92; still high 80's up here. The heat index is usually about 6° lower than the predicted temperature downtown, probably a bit more up here. Ooooh! Looks like we're going to have isolated thunderstorms this weekend! Cool! Literally! 75° is predicted for Sunday, 81° for Saturday. That means we'll be in the high 60's to low 70's, respectively!
We watched the Crufts Dog Show last night. Mom's decided that she wants either a Pharaoh (I think it's because she likes the name; she's always been fascinated by Egyptology) or a standard Dachshund, like Fritz, our Dog of Legend from my childhood. Every time we watch the dog shows I reconsider us having a dog and every time I reconsider I realize, no, not a good idea. Mom understands, luckily. Last night when we talked about it (again) and I mentioned that I'd be the one taking care of the dog (dogs are much higher maintenance than cats), negotiating the adjustment period between The Little Girl and whatever dog joins our family, trying to manage three or more dog walks a day and/or having an electronic fence installed around our property, making kennel or sitter arrangements when we go to the Valley for her appointments, etc., she didn't counter me like she usually does. "You're right," she said, "it would be impractical."
I still consider, too, in the far reaches of my mind and spirit, that, maybe, someday, while Mom is alive, having a dog might work. I don't know, we'll see.
I'm trying to root an unusual flower and a bush cutting from the batch of cut flowers I got at Costco last week. I'm not sure I'll have much luck but I thought I'd give it a whirl. I'm becoming very good at keeping cut flowers alive and thriving in their display vases. Surprisingly, the purple accent flowers, the ones that are often dried and grow on flattened stalks, are putting out more blooms in the vase...tiny white ones. It seems, although my thumbs are black and my mind is distracted when trying to tend to rooted flora (rooted plants are better off, in fact, if I leave them alone), I seem to have a talent for encouraging the best from plants that are obviously approaching their demise. Hmmmm...
Well, I think I'll go check on The Mom. The Little Girl is anxious to awaken her, now. I'm expect to be writing more, today...
...later.
Blood Draw Date 5/20/05; CBC; BMP
Urinalysis Collection Date 5/20/05
She's obviously holding her own. Her hemoglobin is a point lower than last month. In fact, all her anemia indicators have dropped a bit but I'm not worried. I continue to consider that her PCP would consider her stable. Her BUN is normal, surprise, surprise and hallelujah. Her urinalysis shows that we've conquered her latest UTI.
Unless there's something I'm not catching, it looks as though there will be no reason for us to see the doctor before next month's routine catch-up. Good!
I noticed that I mistyped something when I entered her 4/13/05 report but can't find the original at the moment so I'll fix that later.
I checked Mom's feet this morning while she was sleeping (which she's still doing) before I headed out to pick up her lab report. It looks as though her body hasn't completely released the excess water but we're getting there. I'll be able to get a better idea when she's up on end. If her body is still insisting on retaining water I'll give her another 20 mg furosemide.
She seems to be feeling good. Her eyes were open when I checked her. She even insisted that she'd still be awake when I returned from the lab (which is about a 15 minute round trip from here) and asked that I get her up. When I returned, though, she was sleeping again and didn't hear me gently calling her so I'm letting her sleep in.
Yet another hot (relatively speaking; certainly not as hot as in Mesa) day. Yesterday I finally turned on the a/c in the afternoon for a couple of hours to take the edge off the living and dining area. I'm watching the local weather as I post. Yesterday's forecast predicted that today would be warmer but we've got a nice breeze going so I'm thinking that it may be the same or cooler. Ah, here we go, let's see: Yesterday's actual downtown was 93, which means we were in the high 80s. Today, the high is predicted to be 92; still high 80's up here. The heat index is usually about 6° lower than the predicted temperature downtown, probably a bit more up here. Ooooh! Looks like we're going to have isolated thunderstorms this weekend! Cool! Literally! 75° is predicted for Sunday, 81° for Saturday. That means we'll be in the high 60's to low 70's, respectively!
We watched the Crufts Dog Show last night. Mom's decided that she wants either a Pharaoh (I think it's because she likes the name; she's always been fascinated by Egyptology) or a standard Dachshund, like Fritz, our Dog of Legend from my childhood. Every time we watch the dog shows I reconsider us having a dog and every time I reconsider I realize, no, not a good idea. Mom understands, luckily. Last night when we talked about it (again) and I mentioned that I'd be the one taking care of the dog (dogs are much higher maintenance than cats), negotiating the adjustment period between The Little Girl and whatever dog joins our family, trying to manage three or more dog walks a day and/or having an electronic fence installed around our property, making kennel or sitter arrangements when we go to the Valley for her appointments, etc., she didn't counter me like she usually does. "You're right," she said, "it would be impractical."
I still consider, too, in the far reaches of my mind and spirit, that, maybe, someday, while Mom is alive, having a dog might work. I don't know, we'll see.
I'm trying to root an unusual flower and a bush cutting from the batch of cut flowers I got at Costco last week. I'm not sure I'll have much luck but I thought I'd give it a whirl. I'm becoming very good at keeping cut flowers alive and thriving in their display vases. Surprisingly, the purple accent flowers, the ones that are often dried and grow on flattened stalks, are putting out more blooms in the vase...tiny white ones. It seems, although my thumbs are black and my mind is distracted when trying to tend to rooted flora (rooted plants are better off, in fact, if I leave them alone), I seem to have a talent for encouraging the best from plants that are obviously approaching their demise. Hmmmm...
Well, I think I'll go check on The Mom. The Little Girl is anxious to awaken her, now. I'm expect to be writing more, today...
...later.
You might want to check into...
...the posts I made today over at Tests and Meds this evening, the lastest post and the one immediately preceding. We're dealing with a sudden, stubborn bout of water retention which is signaling an episode of congestive heart failure. I explain, in the aforementioned posts, how I'm dealing with it. This is the first semi-serious problem we've had since our appointment on January 24th with The Wondrous FNP and I'm pleased to report that I'm not freaking. With each passing day since that appointment I find myself calmer and more sure of myself in reacting to my mother's habits and dealing with her health. Truly, not a day goes by but what I don't bless that woman and wish her very, very well.
I've got a couple of essays coming up shortly, I hope: Two issues that have been teased in the last couple of days. I'd planned to write about them tonight. I even drank coffee late in order to stay up but it's been a long, busy, thought provoking day and I'm tired, despite the infusion of caffeine. My plan is to set the alarm, in case the coffee causes a restless sleep tonight, so that I can hot foot it to the lab and pick up Mom's results from her latest blood draw and urinalysis.
I didn't come up with any fancy-schmancy reporting form for the FNP. I kept it to a simple table so I can't see any reason to publish a separate form for copying. Surely any of you who would be interested in such a form know how to construct a simple two column table in your word processing software. I've already faxed the information to the FNP, including a readout of her blood glucose and blood pressure measurements since January 24th.
Here's Mom's Health Review: 5/23/05, in case you're interested:
Blood Pressure:
Seems to be no change but I’m concerned about her systolic and would like to discuss, during her next appointment, the possibility of increasing her lisinopril to 5 mg in the evening, since morning seems to be when her systolic is highest. Her blood pressure, as well, tends to rise when she has a urinary tract infection and when she’s on antibiotics so I’m happy to wait a month to see what happens.
When I’m taking her morning blood glucose I try to avoid taking her blood pressure as it’s easy to irritate her in the morning (and taking her blood pressure really irritates her), she’s moving a lot then and I usually get high blood pressure readings.
Blood Sugar:
Doing well. When it goes really high (say 150 to low 200’s) there's always a reason: Pancakes in the morning when we have company; dessert or fruit at lunch rather than dinner, i.e., the 170 on 5/20 was a left over piece of chocolate cake eaten at breakfast from the previous day’s birthday celebration for one of her daughters. I try to keep sugar consumption to the evening meal since her body manages to digest it readily overnight and her blood glucose is usually normal (or close to normal) when she awakens.
Urinary Issues:
Medicated for a urinary tract infection from 5/13/05 - 5/19/05: “Cashed in” the PRN prescription for Levaquin and administered it as follows: 1 dose daily with lunch (to avoid mixing with her iron) of two 250 mg pills for a 500 mg dose once a day. Infection caught, this time, before she began bleeding. It appears that the antibiotic course worked. Because of this I delayed her monthly blood draw/urinalysis until the day after the antibiotic course ended. I figured it would be more valuable then.
One refill on Levaquin remains. I don’t expect to have to use it before seeing you again.
Hydration:
Doing well on this though it remains tricky. I don’t think her urinary tract infection was a result of dehydration but rather bacterial infection from scattered fecal matter, which is typical.
Energy Level:
Improving slowly, typical of warmer weather. She is moving a little bit more than during the winter and sleeping somewhat less.
Skin Condition & Circulation:
Excellent, including extremities. I continue to monitor this throughly during her daily bath.
Appetite & Diet:
Both excellent. I’ve eased up and am adding fruit, especially seasonal berries, this spring, simple desserts (ice cream, etc.) occasionally and pancakes with berries and maple syrup in the morning, usually when we have company but sometimes just because I know she likes them.
She is also eating more sandwiches since her blood glucose seems to be handling these better.
Dementia:
Remains stable, confined to short and long term memory confusion and forgetting how to perform common tasks like using the microwave, turning on machines, etc.; no improvement and no decline.
Will & Spirit:
Both high and strong.
Medication:
Remains the same as last report, other than the antibiotic course for the UTI.
Took two extra strength acetaminophen tablets twice last week before napping, once for upper back “twinges” and once because her right knee was “bothering” her.
No other temporary changes.
Bowel Movements:
Remain regular, easily eliminated, loaded with iron, about 24 - 48 hours apart. No constipation, no diarrhea, no loose or hard stools, no leakage.
Blood Draw & Urinalysis:
I should be able to pick up my copy of the results on 5/23/05. I’m expecting good results, as we haven’t had any obvious, difficult health problems since the last round.
If there is anything that causes you concern that I don’t pick up on, please contact me at the phone number and/or address on the second page of this fax entitled “Patient Information”. Otherwise, I plan on having her next draw done on June 17th, 2005. Next week I’ll be calling to schedule an appointment with you for the week following that blood draw or whatever later time is convenient for you. My expectation is that this will be a routine appointment for prescription review and renewal, general health review, etc.
Oops, that's right, that left over piece of chocolate cake was eaten at breakfast, not lunch. I need to change that over at Tests & Meds.
The review is wordier than I'd planned but I'm getting better.
Later.
I've got a couple of essays coming up shortly, I hope: Two issues that have been teased in the last couple of days. I'd planned to write about them tonight. I even drank coffee late in order to stay up but it's been a long, busy, thought provoking day and I'm tired, despite the infusion of caffeine. My plan is to set the alarm, in case the coffee causes a restless sleep tonight, so that I can hot foot it to the lab and pick up Mom's results from her latest blood draw and urinalysis.
I didn't come up with any fancy-schmancy reporting form for the FNP. I kept it to a simple table so I can't see any reason to publish a separate form for copying. Surely any of you who would be interested in such a form know how to construct a simple two column table in your word processing software. I've already faxed the information to the FNP, including a readout of her blood glucose and blood pressure measurements since January 24th.
Here's Mom's Health Review: 5/23/05, in case you're interested:
Blood Pressure:
Seems to be no change but I’m concerned about her systolic and would like to discuss, during her next appointment, the possibility of increasing her lisinopril to 5 mg in the evening, since morning seems to be when her systolic is highest. Her blood pressure, as well, tends to rise when she has a urinary tract infection and when she’s on antibiotics so I’m happy to wait a month to see what happens.
When I’m taking her morning blood glucose I try to avoid taking her blood pressure as it’s easy to irritate her in the morning (and taking her blood pressure really irritates her), she’s moving a lot then and I usually get high blood pressure readings.
Blood Sugar:
Doing well. When it goes really high (say 150 to low 200’s) there's always a reason: Pancakes in the morning when we have company; dessert or fruit at lunch rather than dinner, i.e., the 170 on 5/20 was a left over piece of chocolate cake eaten at breakfast from the previous day’s birthday celebration for one of her daughters. I try to keep sugar consumption to the evening meal since her body manages to digest it readily overnight and her blood glucose is usually normal (or close to normal) when she awakens.
Urinary Issues:
Medicated for a urinary tract infection from 5/13/05 - 5/19/05: “Cashed in” the PRN prescription for Levaquin and administered it as follows: 1 dose daily with lunch (to avoid mixing with her iron) of two 250 mg pills for a 500 mg dose once a day. Infection caught, this time, before she began bleeding. It appears that the antibiotic course worked. Because of this I delayed her monthly blood draw/urinalysis until the day after the antibiotic course ended. I figured it would be more valuable then.
One refill on Levaquin remains. I don’t expect to have to use it before seeing you again.
Hydration:
Doing well on this though it remains tricky. I don’t think her urinary tract infection was a result of dehydration but rather bacterial infection from scattered fecal matter, which is typical.
Energy Level:
Improving slowly, typical of warmer weather. She is moving a little bit more than during the winter and sleeping somewhat less.
Skin Condition & Circulation:
Excellent, including extremities. I continue to monitor this throughly during her daily bath.
Appetite & Diet:
Both excellent. I’ve eased up and am adding fruit, especially seasonal berries, this spring, simple desserts (ice cream, etc.) occasionally and pancakes with berries and maple syrup in the morning, usually when we have company but sometimes just because I know she likes them.
She is also eating more sandwiches since her blood glucose seems to be handling these better.
Dementia:
Remains stable, confined to short and long term memory confusion and forgetting how to perform common tasks like using the microwave, turning on machines, etc.; no improvement and no decline.
Will & Spirit:
Both high and strong.
Medication:
Remains the same as last report, other than the antibiotic course for the UTI.
Took two extra strength acetaminophen tablets twice last week before napping, once for upper back “twinges” and once because her right knee was “bothering” her.
No other temporary changes.
Bowel Movements:
Remain regular, easily eliminated, loaded with iron, about 24 - 48 hours apart. No constipation, no diarrhea, no loose or hard stools, no leakage.
Blood Draw & Urinalysis:
I should be able to pick up my copy of the results on 5/23/05. I’m expecting good results, as we haven’t had any obvious, difficult health problems since the last round.
If there is anything that causes you concern that I don’t pick up on, please contact me at the phone number and/or address on the second page of this fax entitled “Patient Information”. Otherwise, I plan on having her next draw done on June 17th, 2005. Next week I’ll be calling to schedule an appointment with you for the week following that blood draw or whatever later time is convenient for you. My expectation is that this will be a routine appointment for prescription review and renewal, general health review, etc.
Oops, that's right, that left over piece of chocolate cake was eaten at breakfast, not lunch. I need to change that over at Tests & Meds.
The review is wordier than I'd planned but I'm getting better.
Later.
