Tuesday, December 26, 2006
For those interested,
there's a detailed description of my mother's day, yesterday, over at The Dailies, including medication information. I have more to write on aspects more appropriate to this journal; maybe I'll take a moment to do a little more, here, now.
So, let's see. Christmas [and the Beads of Sweat -- thank you Laura Nyro]. No, it wasn't bad, although I did sweat through the morning routine. She was, as is usual for such an outing as yesterday's, very easy to rouse, once I stage whispered the highlights of our coming day. Her ability to come to on special days never fails to surprise me. She even looked bright eyed and bushy tailed. Her right eye was still a little wide from below, but not above. Her right knee seemed to function just fine, although she always wears some sort of mild knee brace, now, when she's up and around; never to bed or when she sprawls on the couch for a nap.
She had to be reminded more than a few times, "Who these people are." After maybe four repetitions, two in the bathroom during our short bath (she hadn't leaked through although, to her credit, she had awakened for a bathroom call at 0445), I told her, "You'll recognize them when you see them." I was right about this.
Whenever we visit, relatives or friends who seem like relatives, or anyone else, for that matter, she always takes on a "I'm a WAVE, I'm so cool, it's the 1940's and a cool time to be a live and a woman" attitude, especially if there are cigarettes. The more pleasurable the experience for her, the more exaggerated this personality. It's a delight to see her this way. You'd swear she was visiting while on leave from her squadron.
Lot's of times I play the straight buffoon to her generous employer role: She doesn't need me, but aren't I handy, although a little over solicitious; she's keeping me off the streets, see...not for my protection, but the protection of others. Yesterday, for some reason, this perspective didn't come up, but once: While I was cleaning up the bathroom after one of her changing-underwear foray's, I heard her say to MCF, off hand and with decided irony, something along these lines of: "Isn't that sweet, what she does for me." Translation: "I can't seem to get rid of her, so I put her to work."
I laughed out loud in the bathroom. With absolutely no irony.
MCF's house has a high dining table with bar stool sized chairs. Although they give Mom's knees a workout, she loves these chairs. She loves being elevated into and slightly above the crowd. They also work well with the peculiar hip cocking that goes along with her WAVE personality. And, astonishingly, she cannot only slide easily and securely off the chairs, but onto them, as well. She gets irritated, in fact, if someone tries to help along her slow but sure process of adjustment.
The ride down was not hard on her. The ride up was. I'm pleased to report, though, that the car seats in this particular car we rented, a Dodge Stratus, were completely comfortable. She didn't complain of hip pain either way, nor leg nor back pain. She did have some residual "back twinges" after working so hard to get into the house, but those disappeared as she relaxed. Her extremely casual positioning in her rocker, almost laying out, reminded me of a recent article I read, I think in the New York Times, that seems to be the only news I read even slightly these days, that a study by orthopedists (can't remember any of the citing details) that for people with back problems, particularly those related to the spine, "they" have found that this position actually stretches and eases the spine, sometimes irritating the tail bone, sometimes not. Since Mom no longer has a tail bone, I reflected that I now understand why this position is so comfortable and why, if her back is going to "give" her "fits", it's usually because I've directed her into sitting butt out, back held high. Ridiculous, I realize. She can't really hold up her back well, anymore, without much effort. I also realized that this is the cause of some of her breathing "problem" in the more formal position; because she hunches, upright, her lungs are compressed.
We were gifted with a major display of rich lotions, probably enough to last at least half a year. I actually, now, depend on Christmas to restock us with lotions. Mom has become refascinated with candles, too. I mentioned this recently to them. Turns out the daughter makes candles, very elegant, handsome, fragrant ones. We came home with a nice collection of those.
Although raconteur-ish, yesterday, Mom was also visibly tired all day, although she faked it well. I think her impromtu, long nap on the sofa in front of the TV surprised her, but this is an optimal napping environment for her, molded during long years of taking an hour's nap in the afternoon while we, her children, were arriving home from school and livening up the house. She would turn the TV on because she knew one of us would turn it off and she'd awaken. Yesterday, the rest of us ignored the TV, so it remained on. Once she awakened, though, and rejoined the noisy, cozy social life at the table, including overseeing a Canasta card game, she slipped back into her 40's costume.
I had unusually high hopes for this visit, I discovered about 12 hours prior to the trip. It seems I was counting on it to wash away some of my caregiver angst. Actually, I was expecting it to wash away all of it. This didn't happen. But I was able to relax in a way I'd forgotten I could and that, I'm finding, has worked wonders, particular in revival of spirit. Beneath my high hopes, as well, lurked a dread that I would be disappointed. How much, after all, spiritual or not, can be accomplished in a 6.5 hour visit?
I was, though pleasantly surprised, and remain so. My energy is surprisingly high. The surprise is, I didn't realize it had dropped so low. Thus, I found myself sketching plans for at least one spring visit, perhaps another later spring visit of them to our property to plant bulbs. My suggestions were met with enthusiasm...no set plans, though.
We discovered, as we approached our driveway from the street, that I had inadvertently left our small, fiber optic tree on all day. It was dark when we saw it, clearly, twinkling through the window. We were delighted.
I wonder when I absolutely have to have the car in. I've got a few in-town errands to run and using that car would be very nice. I'll call at 0800. It still has plenty of gas.
I want to:
Hmmm. Well, I guess...
...oh, yeah, a Merry Christmas was had by all. And, Mom didn't ask after [long time live in friend of family], "And, now, who was that nice young girl that left before dinner?" Nor did she questions MCF's and MCFS[ister]'s relationship, as she usually does. Of course, she been on increased iron since the last time we saw them. It seems to have reduced her dementia by about a third. Amazing what effect appropriate physical attention can have on the brain.
So, anyway, yeah...
...later.
So, let's see. Christmas [and the Beads of Sweat -- thank you Laura Nyro]. No, it wasn't bad, although I did sweat through the morning routine. She was, as is usual for such an outing as yesterday's, very easy to rouse, once I stage whispered the highlights of our coming day. Her ability to come to on special days never fails to surprise me. She even looked bright eyed and bushy tailed. Her right eye was still a little wide from below, but not above. Her right knee seemed to function just fine, although she always wears some sort of mild knee brace, now, when she's up and around; never to bed or when she sprawls on the couch for a nap.
She had to be reminded more than a few times, "Who these people are." After maybe four repetitions, two in the bathroom during our short bath (she hadn't leaked through although, to her credit, she had awakened for a bathroom call at 0445), I told her, "You'll recognize them when you see them." I was right about this.
Whenever we visit, relatives or friends who seem like relatives, or anyone else, for that matter, she always takes on a "I'm a WAVE, I'm so cool, it's the 1940's and a cool time to be a live and a woman" attitude, especially if there are cigarettes. The more pleasurable the experience for her, the more exaggerated this personality. It's a delight to see her this way. You'd swear she was visiting while on leave from her squadron.
Lot's of times I play the straight buffoon to her generous employer role: She doesn't need me, but aren't I handy, although a little over solicitious; she's keeping me off the streets, see...not for my protection, but the protection of others. Yesterday, for some reason, this perspective didn't come up, but once: While I was cleaning up the bathroom after one of her changing-underwear foray's, I heard her say to MCF, off hand and with decided irony, something along these lines of: "Isn't that sweet, what she does for me." Translation: "I can't seem to get rid of her, so I put her to work."
I laughed out loud in the bathroom. With absolutely no irony.
MCF's house has a high dining table with bar stool sized chairs. Although they give Mom's knees a workout, she loves these chairs. She loves being elevated into and slightly above the crowd. They also work well with the peculiar hip cocking that goes along with her WAVE personality. And, astonishingly, she cannot only slide easily and securely off the chairs, but onto them, as well. She gets irritated, in fact, if someone tries to help along her slow but sure process of adjustment.
The ride down was not hard on her. The ride up was. I'm pleased to report, though, that the car seats in this particular car we rented, a Dodge Stratus, were completely comfortable. She didn't complain of hip pain either way, nor leg nor back pain. She did have some residual "back twinges" after working so hard to get into the house, but those disappeared as she relaxed. Her extremely casual positioning in her rocker, almost laying out, reminded me of a recent article I read, I think in the New York Times, that seems to be the only news I read even slightly these days, that a study by orthopedists (can't remember any of the citing details) that for people with back problems, particularly those related to the spine, "they" have found that this position actually stretches and eases the spine, sometimes irritating the tail bone, sometimes not. Since Mom no longer has a tail bone, I reflected that I now understand why this position is so comfortable and why, if her back is going to "give" her "fits", it's usually because I've directed her into sitting butt out, back held high. Ridiculous, I realize. She can't really hold up her back well, anymore, without much effort. I also realized that this is the cause of some of her breathing "problem" in the more formal position; because she hunches, upright, her lungs are compressed.
We were gifted with a major display of rich lotions, probably enough to last at least half a year. I actually, now, depend on Christmas to restock us with lotions. Mom has become refascinated with candles, too. I mentioned this recently to them. Turns out the daughter makes candles, very elegant, handsome, fragrant ones. We came home with a nice collection of those.
Although raconteur-ish, yesterday, Mom was also visibly tired all day, although she faked it well. I think her impromtu, long nap on the sofa in front of the TV surprised her, but this is an optimal napping environment for her, molded during long years of taking an hour's nap in the afternoon while we, her children, were arriving home from school and livening up the house. She would turn the TV on because she knew one of us would turn it off and she'd awaken. Yesterday, the rest of us ignored the TV, so it remained on. Once she awakened, though, and rejoined the noisy, cozy social life at the table, including overseeing a Canasta card game, she slipped back into her 40's costume.
I had unusually high hopes for this visit, I discovered about 12 hours prior to the trip. It seems I was counting on it to wash away some of my caregiver angst. Actually, I was expecting it to wash away all of it. This didn't happen. But I was able to relax in a way I'd forgotten I could and that, I'm finding, has worked wonders, particular in revival of spirit. Beneath my high hopes, as well, lurked a dread that I would be disappointed. How much, after all, spiritual or not, can be accomplished in a 6.5 hour visit?
I was, though pleasantly surprised, and remain so. My energy is surprisingly high. The surprise is, I didn't realize it had dropped so low. Thus, I found myself sketching plans for at least one spring visit, perhaps another later spring visit of them to our property to plant bulbs. My suggestions were met with enthusiasm...no set plans, though.
We discovered, as we approached our driveway from the street, that I had inadvertently left our small, fiber optic tree on all day. It was dark when we saw it, clearly, twinkling through the window. We were delighted.
I wonder when I absolutely have to have the car in. I've got a few in-town errands to run and using that car would be very nice. I'll call at 0800. It still has plenty of gas.
I want to:
- Pick up cranberry scones;
- stop by office supply, get appropriate envelope for the history of my mother's private stock, mail that to MCS;
- OJ pick-up not necessary;
- staples pick-ups not necessary;
- no Rx's due for refill;
- plenty, with variety, to eat;
- oh, yeah, make some Ranch dip for the veggies;
- sausage this morning, again? no, bacon;
- let Mom sleep until, oh, maybe start checking on her every half hour from noon on;
- anticipate slooooow arousal but be prepared for small surprises.
Hmmm. Well, I guess...
...oh, yeah, a Merry Christmas was had by all. And, Mom didn't ask after [long time live in friend of family], "And, now, who was that nice young girl that left before dinner?" Nor did she questions MCF's and MCFS[ister]'s relationship, as she usually does. Of course, she been on increased iron since the last time we saw them. It seems to have reduced her dementia by about a third. Amazing what effect appropriate physical attention can have on the brain.
So, anyway, yeah...
...later.
