Mom & Me Three Archive

...those lines are from one of my favorite James Taylor songs, "Letter in the Mail," about the death of a midwestern town. I couldn't get them out of my head, yesterday.
    After we've bathed and partially dressed Mom I leave her in the bathroom to lotion her arms, put on her glasses, watch, her bra and shirt. When she doesn't emerge within a few minutes I check on her. Usually she's lagging because she's having a bowel movement or she's "feeling slow" and daydreaming while she finishes dressing. Yesterday, when I opened the door, she was sitting on the closed toilet dangling her bra in the air by the clasp part and staring at it.
    "Does it have a spider on it?" I guessed.
    "A spider? Where?"
    "No, I mean your bra. Are you waiting for a spider to drop off it before you put it on?"
    "Oh, this," she said, giving the bra a shake. "I can't figure out what to do with this."
    I was startled but didn't let on. "Well, Mom, it's your bra."
    She stared me down. "Well, I know that," she declared, although I wasn't at all sure she did know it. "I just can't figure out what to do with it."
    I reached for the bra to examine it, thinking, maybe there's a hole in it or the hook is missing. "Well, it's looks fine to me. What are you referring to?"
    "Am I supposed to wear this?"
    Whoa. It's not uncommon for her to have mechanical problems putting on a bra but this was not a mechanical problem. "Here, I'll help you. It's a 'thing holder'," I joked, a phrase we use for bras that delights Mom, "remember? It's for holding these things," I pointed to her breasts, "so you don't attract too much paying attention around here. We just don't have enough change to handle the business, you know." I displayed it in front of her. "Put your arms through here. I'll latch it in the back."
    She laughed and, suddenly, a glimmer of sense lit her eyes. The identification and purpose of the garment were coming back to her. She slipped her arms through the straps as she has every day for decades, fitted the front to her "things" and I latched the back.
    "There. Do you need help with your shirt?"
    Once again, that look that told me I was overstepping my concern. "Why would I need help with that?!?"
    "Well, I don't know. You seem a little slow, this morning, awfully tired."
    She shook her head. "I am. I don't know why. I may not be up very long, today."
    I could feel tears welling in my eyes. I forced them back. "Well, it's been raining since I got up. It looks like it's settling in for the day. I don't blame you. I'll turn the heater on in your room. Seems like a good day to sleep, if you ask me."
    "Oh ho! I see you have plans!"
    "Well, not for sleeping. You know I love this weather."
    She shook her head. "I don't know where you get that. Must be your father."
    I leered. "I'm the Devil's spawn, Mom."
    "I don't think even the Devil likes rain as much as you do."
    We both laughed.
    Sure enough, after a late rising, she was back in bed by 1400 and slept until I forced her awake at 1700. By that time, although foggy and obviously in for a slow evening, she seemed fine. I couldn't resist, though. "Mom," I said, "you know what a bra is don't you?"
    Again. That look. "Why? Don't you?"
    "Yeah, but this morning you weren't sure what your bra was and couldn't figure out what to do with it."
    "Really." She seemed only mildly concerned. "Did you remind me?"
    "Yeah."
    "Well, good. I'm glad you're around."
    "Yeah, so am I. Otherwise, you might be wearing your bra around your head."
    "Or not wearing one at all."
    "That might be an enterprising move."
    We both laughed.
    The line that follows the two lines quoted in the title, above, is, "...that's how it dies."

...the redirect pages are set up, all sites accept comments, now, everything seems to be working okay as per the previous post, so I think I'll relax, awaken Mom from her nap, eat a late lunch, feel very good about what I've just done (even though there is much work left to do) and I'll probably be back...
    ...later.

    Yesterday I dot netted these journals! First, I'm running out of ISP space. Second, I've been thinking of doing this for some time but was scouring for the best domain and space deal I could find. Yesterday it dropped in my lap.
    The new location for this main journal and its subsidies, to which I am in the process of transferring all material, is The Mom and Me Journals dot Net. It will take awhile to transfer them over. I started with the smallest, least accessed one, Movies, Mom & Me.
    Obviously, transfer of everything is going to require a lot of work, including changing links, which may take up to a year, considering how many times I refer to my own material in these journals. In order to make sure that intrajournal links don't break, I'll be leaving the old material on the old servers until I'm sure all links are corrected, so you shouldn't get any broken links to the journal. Sitemeter and the Search Facilities will, of course, be changed, as well. On the above mentioned move I haven't yet done that, but will later today. I will also be substituting old index pages with an automatic redirect page which should take you to the new locations in three seconds. If not, the redirect page will contain a link to the new page.
    More good news about the transfer: Those journals in which I've had to delete comments will have them restored. Not that I get many comments but, well, I've got the space, now, to accommodate them.
    This move has also set back the production of the promised Table of Contents I'm setting up with links to areas of particular interest. I'd begun cataloguing links and now those links will need to be changed. As a part of the change, as well, all the material in Mom and Me One Archive will be moved into this journal as archived material. That will take awhile, as well.
    As the process continues, if there are any serious problems that crop up I'll notify you through this journal. In the meantime, It's almost time to awaken the Mom. I'll be back...
    ...later.

...that we exercised yesterday, and she didn't handle it well. Details are in the previous link and the Bedtime Stat report for this date.
    Otherwise, it was a pretty good day considering that it rained all day long. Although I'm loving this weather, including the thick air and the grey light, Mom is not a happy camper. I notice, with excited anticipation, that our monsoon will probably last another good week. Mom notices this with disgust.
    To remind myself, the New York Times Sunday Magazine published an interesting article about death last Sunday, about which I intend to ruminate here when I can carve out a little time. If you get a chance, read it.
    Later.

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

...although I'm still working it and a little beyond exhaustion. The last of the work connected with the trip will happen tomorrow morning. Traveling overnight with my mother, even within the state, involves an incredible amount of work and attention before, during and after the trip. My mother slept well Thursday night, although only 10 hours. I did not. Friday night at the hotel we both slept badly; I, because she did. Although we rented a handicapped room, the water coming into the shower area must have been from a different hot water tank than that coming through the faucet tap. I discovered this while taking a barely lukewarm shower Friday night. Saturday morning, when I had to awaken Mom at 0500 to get her bathed, fed and pilled before MPS arrived at 0645 and I left at 0700, Mom and I bathed her, as usual, from the sink, but in quarters that were distinctly less convenient than her bathroom at home.
    Before I left I told MPS that Mom could sleep as much as she wanted but neglected to tell MPS that this was because Mom hadn't gotten much sleep (for her) in the past few days. Thus, when I returned a little before 1600 MPS was in a state of shock over how much sleep Mom was able to "put away".
    MPS was also unprepared for how much Mom would leak, even though I tried to convey this information. I guess she didn't believe that it was absolutely necessary to check Mom every two to three hours during the day, even if she slept a lot, just to make sure she didn't leak through onto her clothes (I'd brought three sets, not including her night clothes, for a stay of just over 24 hours) and onto the bed. Thus, when I arrived back at the motel, Mom had leaked through all her changes of clothes and onto the sheets of the clean bed. I ended up having to dress her in wet clothes to take her back up the mountain. Fortunately, the set from the day previous was only wet around the calves, although, since they'd been in the dirty clothes bag, they were wet from both water and urine.
    Mom did eat well, slept well and very much enjoyed spending time with MPS. I discovered, though, as I recorded here even before the trip, that traveling with Mom is constant work of a nature that isn't routine. Aside from the constant work while attending to Mom, last night, although I was dog tired, I had to remain up until about 0200 just to do three extra loads of laundry so the machines would be ready to receive her regular bed and bath laundry this morning. And, of course, when caring for an Ancient One it is best to put everything used in travel back in its place as quickly as possible after returning home.
    I suppose if we traveled more it would become fairly routine and not seem like extensive work but, the truth is, I don't think we'll do this. Both Mom and I discovered that she is no longer well adapted to living out of a motel and, as she mentioned, she doesn't like me very much when I am in constant work mode. I don't blame her. She knew that I'd paid for two full nights and, soon after MPS left, expressed great concern about the eventuality of us staying the second night. I assured her several times that we were going home almost immediately. When she realized that I was packing the car she expressed extreme relief. Overall, because she enjoyed visiting with MPS, she was pretty mellow about the entire affair but, much to my relief, she was glad it was over when we stepped into our home last night.
    We seem to be able to handle day trips well. Overnighters, though, are no longer a good idea. We talked about this last night over dinner and neither of us is bothered by this.
    Today, although I automatically arose at 0500 this morning (I couldn't help it, and couldn't get back to sleep) and my day was punctuated with bursts of frenetic energy alternating with deep troughs of tiredness, Mom looked good and felt good; so good that I decided to put her through a formal exercise routine, the surprising results of which you can access at the immediately previous link. Her blood pressure, though, has been running unusually high all day, which I discuss in today's posts over at Mom's Daily Tests & Meds.
    Later.