Thursday, August 25, 2005
She still isn't moving much, but we're both very relaxed.
That's what counts. Although the weather channel predicts that today is supposed to be "sunny and warm" I can feel the humidity in the air and the sun is blocked by grey clouds so, who knows. If it dries I'll consider having her do some exercises or, we've got to go to the grocery, not Costco (although we'll probably do that this weekend), maybe she'll be interested in tripping out with me.
I let her sleep her fill yesterday. I awakened her at 1030 and she asked me to "leave" her "alone". I did. Still, she awoke at 1230, which isn't out of her schedule. She went to bed very late, almost at 0100 this morning. When she settled into her blue sun/moon printed sheets, the sheets MPS and her daughter picked out "special" for her because they are perfect for both day (sun) and night (moon) sleep, she asked, again, that I let her sleep "as long as I want" this morning. I agreed.
We had a very interesting evening, though. I don't know why I've never done this before but, last night, at the end of yet another day long web page rampage (this time I redesigned and redirected the 2000 Histories), it occurred to me that she might want to see our site on the computer. I placed the iBook on her table and began navigating through the sites, stopping here and there to explain what she was seeing. The print was too small for her to read so she insisted I read her selections that had interesting titles:
"Well, I'm amazed," she said. "So this is what you're doing when you're on that computer. I had no idea."
"Yep," I replied, "lately, that's about all I do on the computer."
She sat for a minute. "You know," she continued, "what you're doing, this is terrific. It's very important."
"I'm glad you think that," I said. "I think it's important, too, even if it's not being read much."
"It will be," she assured me.
"You know, Mom, it's not just me who's 'doing it'. I couldn't do this without you. You are who makes these journals important. They revolve around our life together. Do you mind that I'm so detailed and upfront?"
She fixed me with a serious stare. "Not at all. I doubt that anyone else is doing it to this extent. I feel good that you're doing this. Someone need to be doing it and I'm pleased that I'm a part of it."
Although I've talked about the journals before, teased her when we have a strange or bad patch that it'll end up on the web for millions of people to access, I guess she never understood the extent to which I meant it. When I showed her the journals last night I didn't expect her to be upset by them but I also didn't expect that she'd be as pleased as she is about what I'm doing with our life, nor did it occur to me that she would take pride in her part in this and consider the effort "important".
You just never know, do you?
I let her sleep her fill yesterday. I awakened her at 1030 and she asked me to "leave" her "alone". I did. Still, she awoke at 1230, which isn't out of her schedule. She went to bed very late, almost at 0100 this morning. When she settled into her blue sun/moon printed sheets, the sheets MPS and her daughter picked out "special" for her because they are perfect for both day (sun) and night (moon) sleep, she asked, again, that I let her sleep "as long as I want" this morning. I agreed.
We had a very interesting evening, though. I don't know why I've never done this before but, last night, at the end of yet another day long web page rampage (this time I redesigned and redirected the 2000 Histories), it occurred to me that she might want to see our site on the computer. I placed the iBook on her table and began navigating through the sites, stopping here and there to explain what she was seeing. The print was too small for her to read so she insisted I read her selections that had interesting titles:
- I read her the first journal entry I published which was about her confusion regarding our geographical status in relation to Mechanicsville, Iowa.
- I read her the most recent post containing the conversation we had about selling the house and moving to New Zealand.
She was amazed. "You really put everything in there, don't you?" - I often kid her, when I'm expecting her to have a bowel movement and asking her every time she goes to the bathroom if she thinks she might have one, that "the world awaits notification of your next bowel movement." I showed her the Mom's Daily Tests and Meds journal and, sure enough, she saw the BM notations in the daily titles and had me read a few of those reports.
She laughed. "Goodness," she said. "I wonder how many people read those?!?"
"Not many," I told her, "maybe 10 people a week, but they're available to about a billion people who are online throughout the world."
"Well, goodness, I wonder if anyone finds them helpful."
"I do," I replied.
She laughed. "Yes, I know you do!" - Although I usually read her each essay I post at the time of posting (I've been reading her most of my writing since I was a kid), she's never connected them with the web site so I showed her that journal. She noticed that the one "up" was the companion I wrote previous to the letter to SND that I published on the web after sending it to him (and reading it to her prior to sending it). She asked me to read the prologue essay to her and nodded vigorously throughout.
- "Read me some more," she said.
I scanned all the journals for notable posts and read them. I prefaced this by reminding her that, "I report everything, Mom, the stuff we say and the stuff I think or I think you might be thinking, so don't be surprised at some of the comments."
"Child," she said, "you never fail to surprise me!"
I couldn't help it. I grinned. - I clicked into the Mother Poems site and refreshed her memory regarding the poem I'd written years ago for her, then read her a few of the others, not missing the "8 x 8 - 5 (33)" poem I'd written involving my impression of her during her sister's funeral rites.
"That's exactly how I felt," she said.
"Well, I'm amazed," she said. "So this is what you're doing when you're on that computer. I had no idea."
"Yep," I replied, "lately, that's about all I do on the computer."
She sat for a minute. "You know," she continued, "what you're doing, this is terrific. It's very important."
"I'm glad you think that," I said. "I think it's important, too, even if it's not being read much."
"It will be," she assured me.
"You know, Mom, it's not just me who's 'doing it'. I couldn't do this without you. You are who makes these journals important. They revolve around our life together. Do you mind that I'm so detailed and upfront?"
She fixed me with a serious stare. "Not at all. I doubt that anyone else is doing it to this extent. I feel good that you're doing this. Someone need to be doing it and I'm pleased that I'm a part of it."
Although I've talked about the journals before, teased her when we have a strange or bad patch that it'll end up on the web for millions of people to access, I guess she never understood the extent to which I meant it. When I showed her the journals last night I didn't expect her to be upset by them but I also didn't expect that she'd be as pleased as she is about what I'm doing with our life, nor did it occur to me that she would take pride in her part in this and consider the effort "important".
You just never know, do you?
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
It's the humidity.
I noticed it this morning when I awoke. I was, of course, thrilled with the thick air. I quickly checked the weather report. We're supposed to have thunderstorms this evening. My spirit danced. Then, during Mom's bath, I noticed she was doing some distressive mouth breathing. As I was getting her concentrator cannula I calculated together the humidity, her heavy breathing and what the woman at the oxygen company said about humidity and excess phlegm and realized, oops, that's what's been bothering her all along. The reason she had no problems yesterday was that it was a warm, dry day. While the monsoon continues to spurt back into our area she's going to continue to have heavy duty days. Sure enough aside from getting up late again (I let her sleep in) today, she had no energy, needed oxygen the entire time she was up and insisted on laying down for a nap rather than going to the drug store. Unfortunately, while we can put off Costco we couldn't put off the drug store. We used the last of her paper underwear today.
Still, it's better for her here than "down in the Valley, the Valley so low". The humidity is always higher there anymore, except maybe during the monsoon when both places are about equal, and the air quality is absolute shit and not improving.
There is a bank of thunderheads gathering in the southwestern sky. The air is so thick I'll bet you could bounce off it...I'm sure it's one of those bounces that has my mother in a prone position right now.
Last night Mom started what she thought was going to be a very sly conversation.
"We own this house up here, don't we?" she asked.
"Yes, Mom, we own it."
"And we don't own any other real estate, do we?"
"Nope, nor do we any longer own any faux real estate, like that mobile home in Mesa."
"So, we don't have to be here, do we? We could sell and move anywhere, couldn't we?"
I choked. Then I laughed. "Theoretically you're correct, Mom."
She eyed me suspiciously. "What do you mean, 'theoretically'?"
"Okay, okay. Let me spell it out for you. You've got that moving bug again, don't you?"
"Well, yes," she confirmed, her fingers working as though she was readying to scratch a fresh bite. "Don't you think it would be exciting to go someplace else?"
"Exciting for you, yes. Pure drudgery for me."
"Oh, but I'd help. I did most of the work when your dad and I moved, you know."
"Mom, I'm going to be straight with you. You are no longer capable, physically or intellectually, of doing the work. That's why I've been doing all our moving work for several years."
"Well, I don't know about that."
"Well, I do. We're finally settling in here. I don't want to do any of that work again, including the overwhelming additional work of supervising you while I'm doing all the other work."
She reared back in her chair and glared at me. "You don't have to supervise me."
An exasperated sigh. "What do you think I've been doing since 1996, Mom?" I thought about continuing thus, "You wouldn't even remember the intricacies of wiping your iron-shit laden bottom if I wasn't here," but thought the better of it. Let sleeping inner cats lie, I decided. I did, however, add, "This is where we live now. We're not moving anywhere, anymore. This is where you're going to die. That's that."
"Well, I suppose so..." she was visibly disappointed.
"Look, Mom. I'll make you a deal. If someone comes out of nowhere, asks to buy the property, accepts an asking price of two million plus the tax we would owe the following year on the settlement, cash on the barrelhead, taking the house and the property as is, they do all the selling work, pay all the fees, get everything in order including our business shit and give us six months after the sale to relocate, we'll pack up, do everything that's necessary to make sure The Little Girl can go with us...
"Oh, of course. The Little girl goes with us."
...secure passports and move to New Zealand. How does that sound?"
"New Zealand!?! Why New Zealand?"
"Oh, I don't know. They have country and a climate zone similar to here, I've wanted to go there for awhile..."
"So have I," she interrupted.
"And I think we could live easily and peacefully there."
"So do I."
"Then, it's a deal?"
"It's a deal."
She was excited again, looking through our old picture atlas for pictures and information on New Zealand, making plans, talking about possible places and houses...completely ignoring the contingencies of the deal.
Funny, I thought she'd veto New Zealand for Iowa. Thank the gods that didn't happen!
More to report on the rewriting and transferring efforts: The index for Mom's Test Results has been leaned up, is snuggly in its new home and a redirect is in place in it's old home. When I speak of leaning up pages, there is a lot of redunancy Trellix produces that I simply left, for instance: Trellix splashes font tags all over in every unnecessary place it can find. If they didn't cause a problem I left them. What I removed were spacers, tables in tables in tables (one of Trellix's favorite tricks), all kinds of Meta shit, loads of non-breaking spaces (although there were a lot of imbedded non-breaking spaces that I left) and programmer notes. I considered tranforming the pages into CSS documents but that would have engendered too much work. Some pages, like the histories and the poem page, I will not be able to move without completely redesigning them: Those, within which I used Trellix's backgrounds, which don't come as whole meal deals but are assembled from ala carte elements, I'll leave where they are.
So, I think I'll traipse over and record some stats. Maybe I'll put those recipes in the food section, too. Then again, I'm developing screen-eye, so maybe I'll wait.
Later.
Still, it's better for her here than "down in the Valley, the Valley so low". The humidity is always higher there anymore, except maybe during the monsoon when both places are about equal, and the air quality is absolute shit and not improving.
There is a bank of thunderheads gathering in the southwestern sky. The air is so thick I'll bet you could bounce off it...I'm sure it's one of those bounces that has my mother in a prone position right now.
Last night Mom started what she thought was going to be a very sly conversation.
"We own this house up here, don't we?" she asked.
"Yes, Mom, we own it."
"And we don't own any other real estate, do we?"
"Nope, nor do we any longer own any faux real estate, like that mobile home in Mesa."
"So, we don't have to be here, do we? We could sell and move anywhere, couldn't we?"
I choked. Then I laughed. "Theoretically you're correct, Mom."
She eyed me suspiciously. "What do you mean, 'theoretically'?"
"Okay, okay. Let me spell it out for you. You've got that moving bug again, don't you?"
"Well, yes," she confirmed, her fingers working as though she was readying to scratch a fresh bite. "Don't you think it would be exciting to go someplace else?"
"Exciting for you, yes. Pure drudgery for me."
"Oh, but I'd help. I did most of the work when your dad and I moved, you know."
"Mom, I'm going to be straight with you. You are no longer capable, physically or intellectually, of doing the work. That's why I've been doing all our moving work for several years."
"Well, I don't know about that."
"Well, I do. We're finally settling in here. I don't want to do any of that work again, including the overwhelming additional work of supervising you while I'm doing all the other work."
She reared back in her chair and glared at me. "You don't have to supervise me."
An exasperated sigh. "What do you think I've been doing since 1996, Mom?" I thought about continuing thus, "You wouldn't even remember the intricacies of wiping your iron-shit laden bottom if I wasn't here," but thought the better of it. Let sleeping inner cats lie, I decided. I did, however, add, "This is where we live now. We're not moving anywhere, anymore. This is where you're going to die. That's that."
"Well, I suppose so..." she was visibly disappointed.
"Look, Mom. I'll make you a deal. If someone comes out of nowhere, asks to buy the property, accepts an asking price of two million plus the tax we would owe the following year on the settlement, cash on the barrelhead, taking the house and the property as is, they do all the selling work, pay all the fees, get everything in order including our business shit and give us six months after the sale to relocate, we'll pack up, do everything that's necessary to make sure The Little Girl can go with us...
"Oh, of course. The Little girl goes with us."
...secure passports and move to New Zealand. How does that sound?"
"New Zealand!?! Why New Zealand?"
"Oh, I don't know. They have country and a climate zone similar to here, I've wanted to go there for awhile..."
"So have I," she interrupted.
"And I think we could live easily and peacefully there."
"So do I."
"Then, it's a deal?"
"It's a deal."
She was excited again, looking through our old picture atlas for pictures and information on New Zealand, making plans, talking about possible places and houses...completely ignoring the contingencies of the deal.
Funny, I thought she'd veto New Zealand for Iowa. Thank the gods that didn't happen!
More to report on the rewriting and transferring efforts: The index for Mom's Test Results has been leaned up, is snuggly in its new home and a redirect is in place in it's old home. When I speak of leaning up pages, there is a lot of redunancy Trellix produces that I simply left, for instance: Trellix splashes font tags all over in every unnecessary place it can find. If they didn't cause a problem I left them. What I removed were spacers, tables in tables in tables (one of Trellix's favorite tricks), all kinds of Meta shit, loads of non-breaking spaces (although there were a lot of imbedded non-breaking spaces that I left) and programmer notes. I considered tranforming the pages into CSS documents but that would have engendered too much work. Some pages, like the histories and the poem page, I will not be able to move without completely redesigning them: Those, within which I used Trellix's backgrounds, which don't come as whole meal deals but are assembled from ala carte elements, I'll leave where they are.
So, I think I'll traipse over and record some stats. Maybe I'll put those recipes in the food section, too. Then again, I'm developing screen-eye, so maybe I'll wait.
Later.
All redirects that are necessary on all medical tests...
...are done and published. I haven't checked out all the changed links but I will. The only "problem" will be if I published a targeted link to a test portion in one of the journals. Before I catch these links and change them the target will take you to the entire test rather than to the portion to which the link appears to be directing you. Hopefully, those who are using these links will think I messed up and will scroll to the portion in which they're interested. All targeted links on the main Mom's Test Results index page have been fixed to target the tests' new home, though.
No, I haven't awakened Mom yet. I'm heading in there now. I think I'm taking a partial vacation day again. Oh well. She'll survive.
No, I haven't awakened Mom yet. I'm heading in there now. I think I'm taking a partial vacation day again. Oh well. She'll survive.
I'm not going to make it over to the food site.
I did the cooking and baking and notating I'd planned but I also decided to finish redesigning all the tests listed at Mom's Test Results except for the old blood glucose reports. Those, I think, I'll let sit for awhile. I want to keep that layout anyway for the historical interest and they don't really need to be redesigned internally until I get ready to move them to the new main site, which won't be for awhile.
Yes, everything I made for dinner was delicious. Once again, the blueberries were not ripe enough but I prefigured this and added extra sugar and cornstarch. The ham salad was spectacular. Maybe tomorrow I'll get over to the food site and report those recipes and how and why they came about. I have two not so secret ingredients I add whenever I'm working with blueberries that makes the blueberries jump and say "Hey! I'm not just delicious, I'm superb!"
Funny what a difference having a pulled together identity on the web makes to me as far as working with these Mom & Me. Visitorship hasn't increased and probably won't but having the particular dot net identity that I've chosen has helped intellectually, emotionally and spiritually pull together all my "Mom" efforts. Previously all my Mom journals seemed like nothing more than scattered, peculiar blogs. Now, here we are: The Mom & Me Journals, at your and my service.
My next project will be bringing together the Table of Contents. First I'll finish setting it up and publish what I've got so far. It's not going to be fancy with menus and such; just a straight forward "look and click" format. I have already devised subject areas. I haven't decided if each area will have its own page. Maybe. I want to encourage people to click, though, and I've noticed that if I have to pull down menus or click into yet another page before I can get to where I want to go I'm often liable not to click at all. My guess is that I'm not the only one who reacts this way to veils and lace on a site. After initial construction I'll add all the disparate parts to it and begin combing through this journal from the beginning to catalog important posts and fix broken links.
I'll also be adding Redirects all over the place as I transfer almost everything to the main site. I'll be doing a little more page redesigning of those pages created on Trellix to get the bulk out. All of the tests were cut by at least half their size without sacrificing any information and they all look much better.
I'm ready to slow down, though. The impetus has relaxed. The site's "here". It's not going anyplace. There will be, I know, some mini-surges along the way but nothing like what I've been doing since I dot netted us a few weeks ago. I'm now flowing steadily. As my mother would say, "That should keep you out of trouble for awhile."
No exercises today but Mom looked good, felt good and was in good spirits. I've decided we're going to the drug store tomorrow instead of Costco. We need a few things there, too. We can put off our trip to Costco at least another day or so and the drug store is much less intimidating for Mom, thus she is more likely to wander up and down the aisles, usually getting stuck in the card aisle, humor section.
I'm improving by the minute. I guess I just have bad days sometimes and going with them gets me through them faster than if I balk and try to be "The Good Caregiver" when I'm feeling neither good nor caring.
Well, goodness, it looks like I can get to bed before 0100 tonight!
Later.
Yes, everything I made for dinner was delicious. Once again, the blueberries were not ripe enough but I prefigured this and added extra sugar and cornstarch. The ham salad was spectacular. Maybe tomorrow I'll get over to the food site and report those recipes and how and why they came about. I have two not so secret ingredients I add whenever I'm working with blueberries that makes the blueberries jump and say "Hey! I'm not just delicious, I'm superb!"
Funny what a difference having a pulled together identity on the web makes to me as far as working with these Mom & Me. Visitorship hasn't increased and probably won't but having the particular dot net identity that I've chosen has helped intellectually, emotionally and spiritually pull together all my "Mom" efforts. Previously all my Mom journals seemed like nothing more than scattered, peculiar blogs. Now, here we are: The Mom & Me Journals, at your and my service.
My next project will be bringing together the Table of Contents. First I'll finish setting it up and publish what I've got so far. It's not going to be fancy with menus and such; just a straight forward "look and click" format. I have already devised subject areas. I haven't decided if each area will have its own page. Maybe. I want to encourage people to click, though, and I've noticed that if I have to pull down menus or click into yet another page before I can get to where I want to go I'm often liable not to click at all. My guess is that I'm not the only one who reacts this way to veils and lace on a site. After initial construction I'll add all the disparate parts to it and begin combing through this journal from the beginning to catalog important posts and fix broken links.
I'll also be adding Redirects all over the place as I transfer almost everything to the main site. I'll be doing a little more page redesigning of those pages created on Trellix to get the bulk out. All of the tests were cut by at least half their size without sacrificing any information and they all look much better.
I'm ready to slow down, though. The impetus has relaxed. The site's "here". It's not going anyplace. There will be, I know, some mini-surges along the way but nothing like what I've been doing since I dot netted us a few weeks ago. I'm now flowing steadily. As my mother would say, "That should keep you out of trouble for awhile."
No exercises today but Mom looked good, felt good and was in good spirits. I've decided we're going to the drug store tomorrow instead of Costco. We need a few things there, too. We can put off our trip to Costco at least another day or so and the drug store is much less intimidating for Mom, thus she is more likely to wander up and down the aisles, usually getting stuck in the card aisle, humor section.
I'm improving by the minute. I guess I just have bad days sometimes and going with them gets me through them faster than if I balk and try to be "The Good Caregiver" when I'm feeling neither good nor caring.
Well, goodness, it looks like I can get to bed before 0100 tonight!
Later.
Monday, August 22, 2005
I must be feeling better. I'm baking.
And cooking. My Knock-'em Alive Blueberry Cobbler and Ham Salad for tonight. In fact, I'm feeling so good that I'm making notes with the intention of visitng the Caring. About Food. site, at long last again, late this evening, to report my recipes and do a little journaling about food and Ancient Ones.
Mom's doing exceedingly well today. Except for during her night-sleep I haven't felt the need to put her on oxygen all day, including during her bath, as she hasn't been mouth breathing or exhibiting any signs of pulmonary distress. Hallelujah! I think maybe it was the excessive humidity that was scrambling her breathing, as my friend at our oxygen supplier suggested. Maybe a bit of a cold, too, but if she had a cold she's over it.
I think I'll record her Breakfast Stats and take a look at the tests I haven't leaned up and transferred to see what's in store for me.
Later.
Mom's doing exceedingly well today. Except for during her night-sleep I haven't felt the need to put her on oxygen all day, including during her bath, as she hasn't been mouth breathing or exhibiting any signs of pulmonary distress. Hallelujah! I think maybe it was the excessive humidity that was scrambling her breathing, as my friend at our oxygen supplier suggested. Maybe a bit of a cold, too, but if she had a cold she's over it.
I think I'll record her Breakfast Stats and take a look at the tests I haven't leaned up and transferred to see what's in store for me.
Later.
"[I'm the] MAY-knee-ack, MAY-KNEE-ack"
"on the [website]". All blood tests have been leaned and replace their previous incarnations. I still have the urinalyses, imaging tests and pathology report to go and a little work to do on the glucose reports indexed at Mom's Test Results, but those are pretty simple and should be easily dispatched. As it is, my butt's falling asleep so I'm not going to linger here too much longer; I need to get up and move. I want to mention, though: As I was leaning the pages I couldn't help but scan the blood test results from 7/27/00, the first (by date) recorded blood test. Damn, we've come a long way! Forgive me for mentioning this yet again but we've come this long way with very little "help" from doctors:
It's funny. Especially over these last, oh, 36 "bad" hours or so, especially, too, in the face of my horrible harassment of my mother over the issue of exercise and my "ungentlemanly" exhaustion over the constant monitoring of food, pills and fluid intake, I've wondered, as I always wonder during "bad patches", what good I am really doing my mother. I tend to jump to the conclusion that I am doing her no more good than a nursing home could do for her. Going over these tests has opened my eyes and helped me recover a bit of my flagging sense of value to my mother's life. I feel better since having put myself through this marathon test transfer.
I still feel like I need a day or so of "vacation" to completely recover. Today I'm letting Mom sleep in again while I grab some isolated peace. I'll probably take stats here and there. Maybe, depending on whether I feel as though I can back off internally and externally and let her do her thing however she wishes (taking into account that movement of any kind is good for her), we may have an exercise session. I'm not yet up to hauling her to Costco (my automatic use of the word "haul" tells me this). I know myself well enough to know that I'll probably run roughshod over her hunched pushing of the walker and have no sympathy when she complains about her back hurting so I think it's best that we put that trip off another day.
We talked about canes again last night. After an initial auto-refusal then a little dance to the song entitled, "I Know Someday I'll Probably Need a [insert type of mobility device, in the case a Cane] When I Go Out, But Not Yet", after which I said, "You know, Mom, you shifted a little heading into the bathroom, tonight, I'm thinking you could probably use a cane around the house, too," she considered the possibility from a more felicitous point of view. When we see her doctor in late October/early November I think I'll seek an Rx for a cane. Her walker and wheelchair are not prescription, they were the generous gifts from friends who'd lost the people who used these devices, so Medicare will cover the cane and, since it will be a prescription cane, we can have it fitted to her specifications. She could, of course, use it now, but she won't use it unless she is convinced that it's useful to her and doesn't undermine her dignity. So, we'll work on the proper attitude between now and then.
Funny, funny woman...such an honor to consider that she "belongs to me". If I decide I want to take Life as far as she continues to take it, I could ask for no better inheritance than her genes and her example with which to take it.
I think I'll hoist myself off the floor, tiptoe into her room and see where she is as far as arising is concerned.
Later.
- I was the one who imperceptibly nudged Mom toward better eating habits and these habits resulted in the felicitous changes in her blood glucose, hemoglobin A1c and cholesterol levels, with dangerous help from metformin, which I finally dumped, and some slight help from glipizide.
- I was the one who discovered the correct type of iron that supplements her well enough to keep her from having, so far, more than one transfusion; I also have been managing her antioxidant levels well enough so that she no longer reads way over on iron and her kidneys pancreas and liver are doing fine, thank you.
- I'm the one who, with only a few easily surmounted blips, has been managing her hydration levels so that her electrolytes remain steady and well placed.
It's funny. Especially over these last, oh, 36 "bad" hours or so, especially, too, in the face of my horrible harassment of my mother over the issue of exercise and my "ungentlemanly" exhaustion over the constant monitoring of food, pills and fluid intake, I've wondered, as I always wonder during "bad patches", what good I am really doing my mother. I tend to jump to the conclusion that I am doing her no more good than a nursing home could do for her. Going over these tests has opened my eyes and helped me recover a bit of my flagging sense of value to my mother's life. I feel better since having put myself through this marathon test transfer.
I still feel like I need a day or so of "vacation" to completely recover. Today I'm letting Mom sleep in again while I grab some isolated peace. I'll probably take stats here and there. Maybe, depending on whether I feel as though I can back off internally and externally and let her do her thing however she wishes (taking into account that movement of any kind is good for her), we may have an exercise session. I'm not yet up to hauling her to Costco (my automatic use of the word "haul" tells me this). I know myself well enough to know that I'll probably run roughshod over her hunched pushing of the walker and have no sympathy when she complains about her back hurting so I think it's best that we put that trip off another day.
We talked about canes again last night. After an initial auto-refusal then a little dance to the song entitled, "I Know Someday I'll Probably Need a [insert type of mobility device, in the case a Cane] When I Go Out, But Not Yet", after which I said, "You know, Mom, you shifted a little heading into the bathroom, tonight, I'm thinking you could probably use a cane around the house, too," she considered the possibility from a more felicitous point of view. When we see her doctor in late October/early November I think I'll seek an Rx for a cane. Her walker and wheelchair are not prescription, they were the generous gifts from friends who'd lost the people who used these devices, so Medicare will cover the cane and, since it will be a prescription cane, we can have it fitted to her specifications. She could, of course, use it now, but she won't use it unless she is convinced that it's useful to her and doesn't undermine her dignity. So, we'll work on the proper attitude between now and then.
Funny, funny woman...such an honor to consider that she "belongs to me". If I decide I want to take Life as far as she continues to take it, I could ask for no better inheritance than her genes and her example with which to take it.
I think I'll hoist myself off the floor, tiptoe into her room and see where she is as far as arising is concerned.
Later.
Sunday, August 21, 2005
On the upside...
...rewriting and transferring the tests is so easy and quick that I've done quite a few of them in very little time.
On the downside: Since yesterday's exercise session I've been having a horrible, horrible "day". I'd say I need a break but, of course, none is forthcoming. About the only time today I was in a mood that couldn't be considered stony was when Mom and I decided to watch the movie that came for free with In Good Company; Wimbledon. It isn't a movie I'd have bought after renting if I didn't have to, but we both enjoyed it, especially the photography during the matches. I'll probably trade it in at our local "trade dvds" place, but it helped lighten my mood for a few hours this afternoon.
Sometime during the worst of my mood today I realized that when I begin going through all the material I've typed into Mom & Me Too perhaps I'll see a pattern to what sets me up for my bad moods and figure out how to control for better moods.
Had a bad night, too. Slept restlessly even though I moved over to the floor, where I usually sleep well when I can't settle down. God. I don't know. I just don't know.
Mom's been okay. She's been ignoring me since last night, which is good. I guess she knows I'll work my way out of it. Eventually. At any rate, no exercise session today. No Costco. She's happy.
Guess I'll "go" transfer some more tests. Amazing how many test results I've got for her. Then..."guess I'll go eat some worms..."
On the downside: Since yesterday's exercise session I've been having a horrible, horrible "day". I'd say I need a break but, of course, none is forthcoming. About the only time today I was in a mood that couldn't be considered stony was when Mom and I decided to watch the movie that came for free with In Good Company; Wimbledon. It isn't a movie I'd have bought after renting if I didn't have to, but we both enjoyed it, especially the photography during the matches. I'll probably trade it in at our local "trade dvds" place, but it helped lighten my mood for a few hours this afternoon.
Sometime during the worst of my mood today I realized that when I begin going through all the material I've typed into Mom & Me Too perhaps I'll see a pattern to what sets me up for my bad moods and figure out how to control for better moods.
Had a bad night, too. Slept restlessly even though I moved over to the floor, where I usually sleep well when I can't settle down. God. I don't know. I just don't know.
Mom's been okay. She's been ignoring me since last night, which is good. I guess she knows I'll work my way out of it. Eventually. At any rate, no exercise session today. No Costco. She's happy.
Guess I'll "go" transfer some more tests. Amazing how many test results I've got for her. Then..."guess I'll go eat some worms..."
