Mom & Me Four Archive

    I guess you could say I'm taking advantage of my mother's desire to sleep to get in some good TOC compilation time. She's roused twice, first time at 0930, gone to the bathroom and decided to head back to bed. I simply haven't stopped her.
    Ah. I hear her reconnaisance cough. I'm ready.

...and it began to get to her this afternoon. You know, over the last few days I haven't fought her. She's been allowed to sleep [almost] as much as she wants (which, in some cases, yesterday, for instance, was prodigious), eat or not as she wishes, and remain as immobile as she pleases. She's been sighing with relief for the last few days.
    Today she finally got suspicious. She slept until maybe around 1300. Up on her own. I met her in the bathroom. She complained that she didn't want a bath. I checked her bed and confirmed that a "short bath" would be in order. She tried to argue me out of it. I gave in. Long bath it is. No, she said, she'd much prefer a short bath.
    Three and a half hours after having awakened she gave me a devlish grin and said, "I think I'll go lay down for awhile."
    "I'll meet you in the bathroom," I said. No, "Can't you wait for another half hour? You've only been up for [some portion of four hours]. We've got to get you moving. That's it. Come on. You're not napping, we're going to get you out on the driveway..."
    "Do you think I she took a nap?" She was no longer grinning.
    "If you want to, go for it."
    "Do you think it's too early?"
    "The question is, do you?"
    "No, I guess not."
    "Well, then, all I have to say is, Nap, Nap, not Night, Night." This is something I always say to her when I kiss her before she lays into her nap.
    She headed in but seemed almost reluctant.
    She was back up again in about 15 minutes. I'd told her, in answer to her question, which she asks occasionally when she's a little hazy, "And where are you going to be," as I wished her "Nap, Nap, not Night, Night" that I'd be, "right here, in the living room, where you left me, doing the same things, probably in half light as I will have forgotten to turn on the living room lights."
    Anyway, she got up about 15 minutes into her nap to make sure I was "still here".
    "If you want to get rid of me, woman, you're going to have to evict me," I told her.
    She laughed. "No chance of that," she said.
    So, although she's not a whole hell of a lot more active than yesterday, the gears are turning and keeping her on her toes or, in her case, I guess, perched forward in her rocker. She's keeping herself guessing. Good.
    Later.

...that yesterday was a caddy-wampus day. Mom is still sleeping and, frankly, it wouldn't surprise me if she slept until around 1300 or so. She hasn't been up at all so it isn't going to be a case of her going back to bed numerous times. I haven't yet checked to see if her sheet is wet. So far it's not wet enough so I can see it peaking in on her.
    TOC in a new stage. This is the first post past the compilation point. Although I'll mark bits of these, if necessary, for inclusion in the index, these posts on will, hopefully, "enter themselves automatically" when I tag parts of them with radioactive isotopes. Oh. Sorry. Different project. You know what I mean. The emergence of the actual TOC may be a week or two (or more) off, but I'm there, now. "[I'm] swimming upstream to spawn." --Robin Williams, Inside the Actors Studio Interview
    I'm amazed that I stayed up when Mr. Man (our new kitten) started frisking me awake at 0730. But, you know, I thought about it, I was feeling pretty good, tired but pleasantly so. So, I decided, if I get up now I can run a few errands and still have a few hours to work on the TOC compilation.
    I'll probably do stats today. I'm assuming there will be an appropriate time to take them. I almost got in evening stats yesterday but somehow I forgot.

    Overnight Prescott has begun its yearly Greening. Our foremost tree is a little slow, this year. I'm not sure why. Our "Susan's", both Black-eyed and Yellow-eyed, have already broken ground this year. Lots of riparian grass in the back, almost a half foot high already. First crop of wild onions ready to harvest. Today is the first day I expect to have all windows and screened doors open all day long. Rain would be nice, but this is nice, too.
    This morning, on my way back from my last errand, I was idly anticipating the results of her next blood draw, which will occur at the end of this month, considering how the increased iron might affect her numbers and her spirit. I factored:

• That the iron is obviously making a difference to her digestion, she is having bowel movements every day, now, which may be a good sign, I don't know;
• Although just lately she's been sleeping a lot, she is definitely peachier when she's up, she can be easily shamed into "straightening up and flying right, or you're going to hurt yourself" so I know she has energy available;
• She has a history of iron supplements involving volatile reactions as her body gets used to them, especially when she was pregnant and they'd discover, yet again, that she was anemic;
• Who knows why but her kidneys are still working well, even under a little stress;
• She feels good;
• She's happy
• Her appetite for everything is good.

    As I was factoring, I noticed how easily I made the switch from "reading" Mom internally (during which I actually visualize her organs and what they might be doing, in color, I might add) to "reading" her externally; how I combine the two perspectives with one dual perspective, like her "peachy" skin color. I can't remember ever imagining anyone in such detail as I do my mother in order to keep tabs on her. I've done some rigorous "reading" of some people, particularly MDL, for long periods of time, but never to this extent and never so automatically. It's valuable to the caregivers' tasks to use these perspectives, almost wear them out. I wouldn't recommend it, though, in day to day acquaintanceships, not even, most of the time, in an intimate family circle. This, caring for Ancient Ones and/or The Infirm, it's a different kind of caregiving. That's for sure.
    Later.

During the latest episode of Everwood, which we watched Monday night, I heard something interesting: Two of the three physicians on the show witnessed a man in a car collide head on with a telephone pole. They immediately tended to him. During their on site examination one physician said to the other: "BP 110/50." The second physician responded, "Could be internal bleeding."
    As you know, this is a fairly familiar blood pressure for my mother, although not as familiar lately as has been the case. As well, she has a history of low blood pressure. She also "runs dry"; has all her life, which may be one of the reasons why her blood pressure has always tended to run low. And yet, it's true, too, she has iron deficiency anemia and periodically the doctors are sure she's bleeding inside, although all tests have shown conclusive evidence of lack of internal bleeding.
    Aside from this, the arena of Blood Pressure is undergoing some extreme controversy, at the moment, as can be followed through such avenues as Medscape newsletters. Its's a very confusing field, right now. And, in the meantime, we've got American Business trying to figure out how to make a fast back on the confusion and controversy.
    It's weird. You hear these things...
    So, you already know from The Dailies that Mom had an unexpectedly slow day, today. So did I. I'm not sure why. I felt relieved, incredibly relieved. I tried to tie it to resolving the taxes situation, which included a huge surprise, but I wasn't actually stressed about that. I mean, I was so relaxed today that I even took a nap for no other reason than it was a beautiful spring day, the house was well breezed, all windows were open, I was thinking how nice it would be to fall asleep on a lawn as I can remember doing when I was young...and before I knew it I was waking up from a quick, completely limp nap on the couch.
    Not sure what's happening tomorrow, which will actually be today. It seems like there are supplies we need, but I can't remember what. Maybe we don't need them tomorrow...
    ...later.

    I could get used to this!
    We had plans: Do Mom's hair, take Mr. Man for a walk, etc. Mom, though, was moving slowly and didn't want to do much. Didn't even want to concentrate on the relaxing required to do her hair.
    Have you noticed? Our hours are changing. Mom's morning looks like it's going to regularly start in the morning. I'm getting up much earlier than before, in part because I've got a kitten waking me up at the crack of dawn. I'm getting to bed earlier, too, though.
    Although it is uncustomary for this to happen to me, my mind is beginning to entertain itself with "Spring Home Improvement Projects". Both inside and out. I'm not sure how much "we'll" do. I do know I need to find another Mr. Everything. Our former Mr. Everything was "called by the Lord" to minister to a church in Winslow, AZ. I was very sorry to see him go, although I suppose "the Lord" needs gardeners in Winslow. I, personally, believe he has much more promise as Steward of the Earth rather than Steward of Souls but, you know, he has a certain eager savior zeal. I wish him well.
    Bizarre glitch with the taxes that has been straightened out to everyone's satisfaction.
    I'm feeling at loose ends, today.

• No urgent errands to run, although I'll probably go to the grocery later for half & half. Maybe not, though. It depends.
• Ham for breakfast, probably, but none for dinner, I think.
• I need to start freezing things.
• Need to bake a loaf of bread this afternoon.
• We've got two movies to watch.

    Mom specifically asked for one of them and under normal circumstances she would have enjoyed it: Word Wars, about the Scrabble championships. [Yes, Virginia, there is an official Scrabble site.] The other, Nashville, I wasn't sure she'd enjoy but I wanted to see it. She was noisily listless through our attempts to watch both. She was too grumpy and uncomfortable for me to forge ahead with "my" movie.

    I'm not concerned about what her mood will be today, though. It will be warmer, 100% less windy, I think, and, well, we have movies. She'll have forgotten that we even have them and they'll be a nice surprise for her. I think.
    Later.

    So, I got a full eight hours last night, despite not feeling like going to bed until about 0300 this morning. Yes, that means I awoke a little after 1100. As my mother was sitting on the edge of her bed sneezing.
    I wasn't in bad mood mode but wanted to try to avoid it. I dressed and hurried into her room.
    "Are you planning on going back to bed." It wasn't meant to be a question.
    Mom looked up at me, shocked. "Well, it looks as though I'm up, doesn't it?!?" As an aside, I have no reason to believe that she probably doesn't remember pulling herself into a sitting position on the edge of her bed.
    No matter. I try to scare her into going back to bed, even though I can clearly see that her bed is wet. It won't matter, I think, for an hour or so.
    Mom looks back at her bed. "I'm not getting back in there. It's wet."
    "Well, Happy Fucking Easter," I said. Even now as I type this I'm laughing uncontrollably. Totally inappropriate. I wasn't in a bad mood, I was feeling a bid impinged, that was all.
    Doesn't matter. Mom was having none of it. She snorted at me.
    "Look, Mom. I need a good hour before processing you. I need my coffee. I need my time alone. Nothing is ready. I need to set up a couple of things...
    "Well, then, let's get to it!"
    So, I did. None the worse for wear, I might add.
    So, the truth about Easter this year is, after three meals in a row featuring ham, I'm already hammed out. I'm sure my mother isn't, but, this morning, when I mentioned dinner, I suggested the already-roasted chicken we have in the fridge, rice, broccoli, Hollandaise sauce, fresh, and she agreed that, "...it might be nice to have something besides ham, tonight."
    And, the cherry pie. I freeze the rest of the Tiramisu and hope for the best.
    It feels like a genuine holiday, today. Very nice. Inside and out.
    Mom was up pretty early, as you may have guessed; exactly 12 hours after retiring. Ready to go. I think the extra iron is a good thing; although her hemoglobin had come up a point in two weeks on it's own. She's napping now. It's allowed. I notice that it is Sacred Nap Time for All Cats and Cat-like Creatures, of which my mother is surely one.
    She's been glued to the TV all morning. The National Geographic channel broadcast several of their Science of the Bible series, upon which Mom was hooked. She made it through the last before The Gospel of Judas, which she remembered having seen, offered her a graceful excuse for "a break".
    I'm slowly but surely catching up to myself in TOC cataloguing. I'm polishing off February, now. I'm excited.