Thursday, September 7, 2006
Things are still pretty touch and go.
I'm too anxiety ridden to repeat the details for today, September 6th, that is, but they're all over at The Dailies post for September 6th. Suffice it to say, it was a pretty weird day. I'm looking forward to Mom's doctor appointment next Tuesday, even as I'm dreading it.
Tomorrow we're going for her blood draw. I'll be spending most of the day after that making hotel arrangements and getting together all the stuff for the health review I'll be faxing to her doctor on Friday when I pick up the lab results. I'm not sure whether we'll get in a walkering session tomorrow, considering her state today. We'll see.
I'm pretty focused, now. I've gotten ahold of myself, enough, to decide to continue researching diabetic meds this weekend, although I think "something else" is going on, too, I just don't know what. I can't explain her incredible fluid shedding, which, today, appeared to affect her electrolyte levels, which I worked hard to push up throughout the day. Although her spirit remains strong, as does her will, she was pretty wasted today. I'm thinking, now, I'm just going to let her BG levels do what they will, maybe continue the walkering but that will depend on whether she continues to lose fluid almost as soon as it enters her body. If this continues, I'll go very, very easy on her from now through next Tuesday, when she has her appointment. Her blood pressure seems to be coming down, which doesn't surprise me, considering her body's sudden decision to let go of fluid. I've only taken it in the morning for the past two days, though. I haven't wanted to wrangle with her in the evening over it. It's much easier to take in the morning than in the evening.
Hoh. Well, we'll see what happens. This evening, while I was taking her BG before dinner, I suddenly burst into tears at her feet. I did the same thing this morning just before bathing her but managed to get myself out of the bathroom before she noticed. This evening, though, I was pricking her finger for blood when it happened. She stared at me. I explained my anxiety over her health to her and said something like, "Mom, something's going wrong, your health is failing, it looks like your having some kind of a crisis."
"Nonsense, child," she said, fairly snorting. "I feel fine! There's nothing wrong with me!" She couldn't remember the weakness she experienced most of the day; didn't connect her four hour nap, which might have gone on to five if I hadn't awakened her from an unusually deep sleep, with a health problem; wasn't at all concerned about how she was feeling.
Luckily, I was able to let it go, except that I told her that I was extremely relieved that we had a doctor's appointment next week, and not to be surprised if he decided he wanted to see us again much sooner than usual.
Otherwise, the evening went well. I did her hair. We watched the entire first season of Sex and the City, which we both enjoyed. I needed a reliable, entertaining diversion. So, it seems, did she.
As you may know, if you've read me long enough, my mother prays at night before going to bed. No, she doesn't get down on her knees, but she prays. I know her well enough to know that she never prays for herself, except on those few occasions when I tell her it's time for her to do this. Tonight, as she was sitting on the edge of her bed, after we had our usual bedtime conversation, before we kiss good-night, I told her it's time; she needs to pray for herself, tonight. I repeated this a couple of times.
She looked at me as though I was crazy, but she agreed and I could see that she meant to. I have a feeling when I ask her to do this, her prayer goes something like this:
Time for bed.
Later.
Tomorrow we're going for her blood draw. I'll be spending most of the day after that making hotel arrangements and getting together all the stuff for the health review I'll be faxing to her doctor on Friday when I pick up the lab results. I'm not sure whether we'll get in a walkering session tomorrow, considering her state today. We'll see.
I'm pretty focused, now. I've gotten ahold of myself, enough, to decide to continue researching diabetic meds this weekend, although I think "something else" is going on, too, I just don't know what. I can't explain her incredible fluid shedding, which, today, appeared to affect her electrolyte levels, which I worked hard to push up throughout the day. Although her spirit remains strong, as does her will, she was pretty wasted today. I'm thinking, now, I'm just going to let her BG levels do what they will, maybe continue the walkering but that will depend on whether she continues to lose fluid almost as soon as it enters her body. If this continues, I'll go very, very easy on her from now through next Tuesday, when she has her appointment. Her blood pressure seems to be coming down, which doesn't surprise me, considering her body's sudden decision to let go of fluid. I've only taken it in the morning for the past two days, though. I haven't wanted to wrangle with her in the evening over it. It's much easier to take in the morning than in the evening.
Hoh. Well, we'll see what happens. This evening, while I was taking her BG before dinner, I suddenly burst into tears at her feet. I did the same thing this morning just before bathing her but managed to get myself out of the bathroom before she noticed. This evening, though, I was pricking her finger for blood when it happened. She stared at me. I explained my anxiety over her health to her and said something like, "Mom, something's going wrong, your health is failing, it looks like your having some kind of a crisis."
"Nonsense, child," she said, fairly snorting. "I feel fine! There's nothing wrong with me!" She couldn't remember the weakness she experienced most of the day; didn't connect her four hour nap, which might have gone on to five if I hadn't awakened her from an unusually deep sleep, with a health problem; wasn't at all concerned about how she was feeling.
Luckily, I was able to let it go, except that I told her that I was extremely relieved that we had a doctor's appointment next week, and not to be surprised if he decided he wanted to see us again much sooner than usual.
Otherwise, the evening went well. I did her hair. We watched the entire first season of Sex and the City, which we both enjoyed. I needed a reliable, entertaining diversion. So, it seems, did she.
As you may know, if you've read me long enough, my mother prays at night before going to bed. No, she doesn't get down on her knees, but she prays. I know her well enough to know that she never prays for herself, except on those few occasions when I tell her it's time for her to do this. Tonight, as she was sitting on the edge of her bed, after we had our usual bedtime conversation, before we kiss good-night, I told her it's time; she needs to pray for herself, tonight. I repeated this a couple of times.
She looked at me as though I was crazy, but she agreed and I could see that she meant to. I have a feeling when I ask her to do this, her prayer goes something like this:
Dear Lord (I'm sure she uses "Lord" instead of "God"): My daughter Gail is concerned about my health again, bless her heart. I'm not worried, I'm sure everything is fine. She's asked me to pray for myself, though, so, consider this that prayer. I'm not sure what she thinks is wrong, I don't think anything is wrong, but if anything is, take care of it so that Gail can relax, settle down and things can get back to normal, again. She's very upset. She's managed to work herself into a tizzy over the last week or more. So, Lord, see what You can do to straighten things out so that she isn't upset, anymore. In Jesus' name, Amen.As far as I'm concerned, that's a fine prayer, the best she can do on her own behalf, and, the gods know, she's pretty maintenance free, so I'm sure it will be heard and answered. I'm satisfied.
Time for bed.
Later.
