Saturday, July 1, 2006

 

The cat leakage is stoppered...

...with infant-toddler gates across the offending areas. This turns out to be much, much cheaper than having doors designed, built and installed. I don't know what I was thinking, but that would have been a major decorating project.
    Taxes have been completed and, as it turns out, since the feds owed us a small and unusual refund, this year, by simply paying the same estimated taxes this year as last, we've ended up keeping up nicely with our taxes; we're even a couple hundred bucks ahead of ourselves. That's good news.
    The shopping trip was necessary but I'd forgotten about the three day parade (or, parade condition) going on downtown and at the rodeo grounds through July 4th. Great shopping, though. No one was anywhere I wanted to go. Not even at the feed store, which surprised me, since they're a major sponsor of the rodeo.
    On my fateful way through town, I noticed lots of people wheeling Ancient Ones around in chairs. Old age is a big deal, here. Aside from the fact that this area hosts an unusually high percentage of retirees, The Pioneer Nursing Home is located here, which houses all of Prescott's living pioneers. While I was waiting for revelers to cross, I briefly considered bringing Mom down to stroll through the festivities. I'll ask her, when she arises, which I'm leaving up to her, today, within reason. She'll probably say, "No," but, you never know. She might like the idea of being wheeled around a celebration. At any rate, we've got four days of celebration from which to choose.
    I'm sure there'll be fireworks sometime this weekend, or, maybe not. We're on severe fire restrictions. At any rate, if the area decides to hold them, I'm sure they'll be on a plain, probably in Prescott Valley, and I doubt we'll see them from here. We will hear gunshots, though, lots of them. Despite the fact that the forest service has posted electric signs on all forest roads, including ours, blinking NO SHOOTING. You don't have to legislate against that which no one does. Oh well. I just hope we get through it without a fire.
    I discovered that I apparently loaded the Appleworks database portion to death with the database for the Journals TOC. Thus, I am laboriously transferring this information to a spreadsheet, so it can be read into MYSQL in preparation for building the TOC page. In the meantime, I may go back and pick up some lost TOC ground. These sound like good projects for this weekend. I think it'll be low key, over all. Maybe one trip to the grocery, Mom invited but not required. Maybe I'll pick up some of those cranberry scones. Maybe I'll make some. Better idea. I need an orange. Maybe some lemon blueberry scones with allspice, I've got everything for those. What about cherry, what can I do with the dried cherries? Ah. Cherry Almond scones. Perfect. Maybe I'll make those when it starts raining.
    Mom's scalp could definitely use a few days' rest from hair cement. This weekend would be a good weekend to give her a couple of scrub downs and rest her scalp. And, this weekend might just be an excellent Easy Bean Soup with HoneyBaked Ham weekend; you have to hunt a little ways on from where the target lands you. The entire recipe is contained in the last paragraph of that section. It's that easy.
    Later.

 

I continue to think pleasurably on our experience, yesterday,

with Brain Age...not so much the pleasure of the game, although it is fun and becomes more fun the further you go...more for my mother's pleasure in the game. I was hoping for "mildly interested". I got, in a day, close to "dedicated". Funny, when we initially sat down to do beading, she actually made a passing bracelet, clasp and all, while I got lost in sorting a multi-type bead spill. Once she made the bracelet she never wanted to do it again. The need for novelty, I thought. The night I debuted the stamping and card making supplies didn't go even that well. The debut occurred under optimimum conditions: Family company was here (although not the family member who suggested the stamping set), one of whom remembers our serendipitous "craft nights" at home, growing up, when Mom would try out a new craft for use in school, lay the elements on the table and invite us to have at it with her. That's what we were all doing that night with the card making and stamping supplies. MPS, MPNC and I all made startling cards. Mom pushed brightly colored paper and tubes of glue-on glittery things around and smiled and occasionally conversed, but didn't really participate. Alone, together, she tends to let others do the creative work, now, although she continues to enjoy being in the middle of the bustle.
    My favorite evening craft project from that era was acrylic sculpture. Mom had found a loosely devised kit at an art supply store that included wire and cans of transparent liquid acrylic in a variety of colors. We bent wire into shapes, dipped the shapes in the liquid acrylic which would hold and drip itself into beautiful standing sculptures...then let them dry and, well, do whatever you want with them. It seems like one of us made a pinwheel with that stuff. Another tried double dipping, color over color.
    I've never seen anything like it before or since. The liquid acrylic probably had lethal fumes, although it smelled seductive, like ammonia: You don't want to but the aroma makes you breathe it in.
    Mom would, among the other chores she was doing (shades of caregiving), also participate. I know that these are some of my fondest memories and I continue to anticipate more such "craft nights"; maybe not nearly as many, but just as fun. Luckily, we live in a crafty family. I've been wondering, lately, because she's mentioned it, if she might be interested in knitting and/or crocheting, again. We've got loads of unused yarn around.
    When activity, or, at least, the anticipation of increased activity, steps up a bit, I always find a Devil's Advocate sitting on my shoulder, reminding me not to get too excited. We're not talking The Recovery or Remission of Old Age and Inevitable Decline. I remember, when her obvious decline began, I was, first, startled, then angry, sure there were cures for what ailed her. It took me a long time to adjust my speed and attitude. Some of the credit should go to Mom. She has always insisted on a light medical touch. Although some would disagree, I think, in her case, she is right. I could, for instance, be having her evaluated for NPH. She is a fairly likely candidate. And, I would, if there weren't so many other reasons for her dementia and physical decline, as well as heightened surgery risk. And, too, if her spirit was affected by her dementia I'd consider further examinations. She could probably survive several very-uncomfortable-to-torturous scopings, but, you know, when the colonoscopist declares her Unfit for Scoping, well, step back, Loretta. If my mother were the type who embraced the highly invasive medical technology of our era I might be inclined to continue scoping. But, she's not so inclined, unless said technology causes no discomfort. I mean, let's face it. It's fucking scary to "wake up" during a merging of realities and discover yourself half naked on a gurney with a scope up your ass, moaning uncontrollably. No need to put Mom through that, again, unless the expected results far outweigh the "torture". And, yes, I could be more "proactive", more like a social director, scheduling her days, etc. I used to do that. But, you know, there have been subtle (and not so subtle) signals throughout the years that, at times, she's been ready to step back out of (so much) activity...that she likes her semi-solitude. So, you know, I go with the flow and remember The Wondrous FNP telling me not to invite unnecessary conflict over any inabilities I may have to "do the right thing". If we're both feeling good and satisfied with our lives and each other's company, that's the battle won.
    Well, you know, places to go, things to do, people to see...I think I'll put off Costco, though. She might be up to a trip early next week, right after the holiday and none of those supplies are urgent.
    Which reminds me...neither she nor I had any idea it was the Extended July 4th Weekend Holiday until we were rudely reminded last night, just before Mom retired. So, we have no plans, although I might order out for pizza one night. "Time[lessness], time[lessness], time[lessness], see what's become of me..." --apologies and thanks to Simon and Garfunkel. And, I think, Paula.
    Later.

Friday, June 30, 2006

 

And, no, it has not escaped me that...

...at this point in our nascent knowledge of the brain, ascribing the ability to assign an age to a sawbuck video game is the height of hubris. I think it's meant to be, however serious the original idea was. Brain Age's originator, of all people, is probably excrutiatingly aware that we are nowhere near declaring, with any certainty, of what a "healthy", "well-execised" brain of any age is capable. We have some ideas based on fast; slow; specific, narrow tasks; regulating complexity. But, we're still really out of our league in this.
    We still can not answer, with any certainty, the question, "Is the state of my mother's brain the best that she could have done? The best that her community could have made of her?" Nor does anyone yet have a definitive answer to these questions: "Am I harming, maintaining the status quo or helping my mother, mentally? Which should I be doing?"
    Bottom line? We're keeping the game.
    Later.

 

Mom decided, after dinner, to play a little more...

...Brain Age. This time she tackled yet another set of math calculations, then decided to do some reading aloud. Wow. What a difference from how she used to sound! She approached the task with confidence and, although her confidence was knocked around a little, it exited the ring under its own steam. She spoke very low (which doesn't matter on this one...the emphasis is on how fast you read it, although this aspect escaped Mom). She often hesitated or mispronounced words, thinking they were other words. She stumbled over learning how to automatically adjust for light while holding the LCD screen. I probably should have hooked her up to oxygen while she was reading aloud but didn't think about it, thus, when she finished, she was a little breathless. On the second to the last page, she held the stylus down on the "Next" button too long and skipped over the last page. Her confidence, though, emerged unscathed.
    The second time around with the device I noticed that after she works her brain for a little while she experiences a subtle euphoria, just as she would if she exercised her body; well, theoretically on that one; in fact, she no longer experiences immediate euphoria from physical exercise. She is more likely to experience physical tiredness...the euphoria, or, in her case, moving more easily, takes a few days to kick in and is so subtle you'd have to know what you were looking for to notice it.
    I worked ahead a little, just to see what kinds of exercises are added. Some of them she clearly won't be good at. Some of them I expect her to ace...drawing pictures of things, for instance. She notices detail well.

    In answer to Deb's confusion about the game "aging" the player [see comment for the second to the last post]: According to the game, the "optimum" age for the brain is 20 years. Thus, if you are using it for training, you are attempting to receive an age closer and closer to 20. Having your brain age graded as lower than your chronological age is "good", regardless of your age. Having it graded as higher than your chronological age is "bad"...in my case, considering that my "lowest" brain age score, 70, is almost one and a half decades higher than my chronological age, this is "very bad", indeed.
    As to Deb's concern about it being not quite suited to her mother, I would guess that there are a lot of the demented, including some who are demented-lite, for whom this would not be suitable. I have to say, if my mother had not expressed an interest in it (the expression of which she no longer remembers, but that's neither here nor there) when she originally watched the 60 Minutes segment, I don't think I would have considered it for her. As well, if I'd understood that the console was necessary and this is the pricey item, when I first noticed that the game was sold without a console I would have done a little more research and may not have gotten the game, even considering her expressed interest. Thus, while I had to make a snap judgment on suitability for my mother, I could, easily, have analyzed myself out of the purchase if I'd been my usual meticulous self. That would have been a shame, as she really likes the thing and may be able to play other games on it; although I will submit the games, prior to buying, to a very severe review.
    My guess, from what I now understand of the game is that many people, professionals included, might not have considered my mother a good candidate for the game. She can, after all, seem pretty spacey at times. And, I'd have to agree that some of the tests have proven and will prove to be beyond her. But, within her limitations she is feeling neither powerless nor disappointed when playing the game, so, in a complicated, convoluted way, it suits her. My guess, too, is that it will often be considered completely inappropriate for people for whom it may be only partially appropriate.

    Finally, I am not concerned about whether the game renders my mother brighter, more intellectually flexible, keeps her brain in as good shape as it can be. What I like about the game is that Mom is enjoying it. It's giving her a kick unlike anything she's experienced in a long time. This pleases me. This is what I was hoping for.
    In fact, her enjoyment of the game and it's ability to allow her to feel competent actually over-performed for her this evening. Within a half hour after having played the game the second time, she was feeling really good, really powerful. She decided, while I was out of the room doing some chores, to pick a bug up off the ground. She ended up sitting on the ground. When I reentered the living room she had not yet discovered that getting up was going to be a struggle.
    I stood in the dinette watching her as she explained how she'd gotten where she was. I knew she would not be able to get up on her own. She, however, hadn't yet realized this.
    "Well," I said, "let me help you."
    "No, no, no, no! If I can get down here, I can get back up! Don't help me!"
    "Okay."
    She struggled until she was on her hands and knees.
    "Can I help you, now?"
    "Don't try to pick me up! You can't!"
    "Well," I said, remaining calm, "Actually, I can pick you up, but that's not necessary. I want you to crawl over to the steps and scoot your butt onto the first one." These are low room entry steps.
    Which she did.
    I reached around her and pulled her up off the step. It took her about thirty seconds of hanging on to me to realize that her legs still worked.
    Although I didn't make a big deal out of this, I realized, immediately, where she'd gotten the confidence. From the game. We talked a little about Confidence Transference and the fact that having confidence in one's mind says nothing about how one's body is going to work.
    She agreed.
    I'm making a mental note to myself, though, to be especially vigilant for the first hour or so after she's played the game. If it hasn't exhausted her into thinking about a nap, maybe this would be a good time to get her out on the driveway moving around, distracting her from deciding to pick bugs up off the carpet.
    If this game becomes popular, it will be interesting to track its use through several different decades of the middle-aged and the elderly, following the progress of several different "types" of us, including those of us in states of dementia. One thing I've already figured out: Deciding if the game is "successful" will involve levels of subtlety not yet considered by its promoters.

 

Oh, I wanted to mention...

...I did not record the event of Mom meeting Brain Age for podcasting. I'm not sorry I didn't. The technical etiquette required to set up the console for Mom was enough. At any rate, there wouldn't have been much to record, except for the possibly hilarious conversation that went on between her and me while we were discovering that the oral game was not for her. Once she got it, which she did pretty quickly, it was very quiet in the room.

 

"Just exactly how much did this thing cost?"

    Uh oh, I thought, here it comes. Mom had been quietly, concentratedly working her way through the non-vocal Brain Age initial test. I'd been attempting to watch over her shoulder but LCD screens weren't meant for communal viewing. I could see her writing the digital answers on the right screen to the simple math problems on the left screen. Sometimes she'd lean her fingernails against the screen and those would register as marks and incorrect answers; or her hand would shake a little trying to write with the stylus without leaning against the console, which she was holding upright in her left hand, the computer would misinterpret her scribble and would "mark" one of her responses wrong. She'd argue with it, then notice how the computer had interpreted her chicken scratch. I only had to clue her into this once, although she went through several trials and errors with it. In the meantime, of course, she was racking up time, but I didn't bother her about this.
    She finished the written test, sat back in her rocker and sighed. I thought the sigh was a satisfied one. Then, she asked The Cost Question.
    I didn't brush it aside. "All together, Mom, after the rebate comes through, including shipping, we will have spent $95.00."
    "Oh!" she said. "That's not bad! I'll tell you what. I'll give you the money and you get me one of these things."
    "Mom," I said, gently, "this one is yours. I bought it for you."
    "Oh! My goodness, child! How did you know I'd like this?"
    "Well, I wasn't sure, but it seemed like something you'd find interesting." It sounded like she was not connecting her yesterday viewing of the 60 Minutes segment (which I decided against showing again today). No need to remind her. The story is never as impressive as the actual experience.
    Getting started was a little iffy. Instead of going directly to "Daily Training", I thought it would be a good idea to choose "Quick Brain Age" (I think that's what it's called), in which nothing is written in stone. Good idea. We discovered, from the Brain Age test in that section, that audio answers were not going to work with Mom. Either she'd talk too much or her coughing and throat clearing would be interpreted as speech. At any rate, that particular test was beyond her (which, I imagine, says something about her actual brain age). The test consists of several names for colors written in one of four colors of type: Yellow, Red, Blue or Black. As the names for the colors come up, you are supposed to say the name of the color of the type. It took a lot of coaching for Mom to even get a glimmer of what was required. At one point I had so confused her that I wasn't sure whether she was actually seeing a colored screen or a black and white one. Anyway, from the experience on that test, which was frustrating for both of us, although she did pick up the skill of clicking through screens with the stylus rather well and accomodated quickly to clicking the upper right green button to continue, I realized that when she set up a profile under the "Daily Training" section, it would be best if she answered, when asked, that she doesn't speak. Rather than explain all this to her, I just clicked her through that. The math test was clearly more up her alley. She played it twice, noticeably increasing her facility with the stylus through both runs.
    "You know," she said, "someone could just fold this up and take it along in their pocket!"
    "You bet," I said. At this point I'm still not sure if she'll be able to play it unsupervised, but I don't care. She clearly loved it. "We'll get you squared away on it and you can play it anytime."
    "But, I still think we should get another. Don't you want this one?"
    "Mom, this allows for four players."
    "But what if I'm playing it and you want to play?"
    Oh! Yes! Excellent sign! "Mom, I've got all kinds of things I can be doing, computer things. Believe me, I won't begrudge you your time on it."
    Later, before laying down for a nap (just as a thunderstorm is preparing to sweep through our area), I mentioned that there are other games that can be played on this console.
    "Oh," she said, "I'd like to try some of those games."
    I'll just bet there are a few she'd enjoy and wouldn't find frustrating.
    A few technical aspects of the game for Ancient Ones and Those Demented:    When Mom realized that she was going to "get this thing" and enjoy it, she became so excited that, at one point, she shook. It was very gratifying! She used a lot of concentration, both in playing it and understanding what she was doing, thus, it exhausted her (mental energy is energy), but she decided to nap about in line with her usual nap time.
    Her experience with it, I am sure, has a great deal to do with her having Dementia-Lite, with emphasis on the "Lite", and, I think, also has something to do with her untroubled spirit in regard to her dementia, light or not. It occurred to me, as I watched her make sense of the tools, that one has to have retained some simple self-confidence to get satisfaction from a game like this. They also have to have a sense of "the marvelous" about them, still, a willingness to become excited about what exists and what's possible. My mother, too, has always been a "gadget" person, which is amazing considering that, until she went to college, all her living situations were primarily without electricity and running water. World War II, I think, created The Gadget Generation. My mother also has taken pride in collecting and operating technical gadgets ahead of me. She is beyond operating most of them even with assistance, now, but still sees the sense in them and the need for new gadgets. I'm, frankly, surprised and pleased that a fun gadget exists that she is going to enjoy and with which she'll be able to interact.
    I expect that, most of the time, anyway, light supervision will be required; I'll need to be aware of what she's doing in the game in case she gets stuck or doesn't realize she's at a crossroads.
    Oh, and, her brain age (the audio section became confused and couldn't measure her brain age)? 80. Younger than her age, the game said, but could benefit from some exercise. All in all, she did better than me!
    Later.

 

Almost 45 minutes ago...

...I finished a conversation with a Prescott friend who has, serendipitously and recently, watched a small group of nursing home residents (all elderly) using Brain Age at the facility where she visits her mother. Some of the residents' relatives provided a few of them with the game and they formed a "Brain Improvement" club. My friend was interested so asked if she could sit in, watch the activity and ask questions. One of the residents even allowed her to set up a profile, in case she comes by and her mom is "asleep, again".
    She encouraged me to at least set up a profile for myself, before both my mother and I start fooling with the game, so that I'll know what to expect in terms of time to explain what she just saw and time to explain what she is about to see. Now that I've set up a profile, I understand what she means. A few of the very first screens flit by pretty fast. Once Dr. Kawashima starts explaining, though, the player has all the time she needs to understand instructions, go back and forth, etc. With my setting up of an initial user profile, all the miscellaneous console set-up is taken care of. Setting up a game profile is leisurely and gives you lots of room for mistakes.
    Then, the Actual Brain Age Test starts. It can be taken (and is offered) every time one starts the game and, my understanding is, any time one wants to check one's brain age. In case you're wondering, on my first try my Brain Age was 80. On my second try it was 70. On my third try it was 75. It should be noted that a few times I "got the color" (you'll know what I'm talking about if you've taken the test) right but it took the machine awhile to figure out that when I say, for instance, "Blue", I mean "Blue". Speech recognition is not this game's strong point, although I assume it gets better the more it hears the profiled speaker.
    I didn't go into a training session. I decided to wait for what I'm sure will be the surprise of Mom fooling around with this thing. I'm a bit concerned about the screen. There is a bleed-under screen effect that, if one doesn't hold the game right, can cause the current screen to "disappear" in glare and show an already accessed screen. I'm hoping this won't be too much of a problem. LCD screens are shitty that way. I'm surprised, in all these years of LCD screens, no one's addressed this problem.
    So, I'm sure we'll be trying it today.
    Later.

 

Even though Mom looked at the 60 Minutes segment...

...about Brain Age after she awoke from her nap, she decided she didn't want to try out the game tonight. She's a little under the wonderfully humid, volatile weather we're having, so I don't blame her. The segment showed several Ancient One senior citizens hunched over their game consoles touching screens with styli. As she watched, Mom imitated their behavior and, later, noted that they looked like "they were having fun". She's a little put off with the training angle. "It should just be fun," she said.
    I understand what she means. My mother and I (and, I think, my sisters, too, I think this is an intellectual quality my mother passed to us) are of the type of people who enjoy mental stimulation and challenge without a point. Thus, we can get our nose out of joint when it is suggested that someone else understands and can cater to our point. Further, neither of us needs to be challenged to find anything stimulating. Even though my mother has dementia, she "remembers" her habits of thought and her brain tends to select and deselect options based on how she remembers it used to operate. I'm not sure whether this is going to be a negative or positive thing. She is no longer capable of successfully operating in her preferred mode, but believing that she can might get her started.
    So, after breakfast tomorrow it is. In case you're wondering, I'm not having a hard time with Mom putting off her initiation into the game. I've been thinking, we've, rather, I've been making a big deal of this game. I need to settle down and remove myself from investment in any particular outcome. That way, any outcome will be interesting for me.
    Today, by the way, for Mom, was entrenched. She was annoyed that it was going to rain, then annoyed when it didn't rain hard enough to satisfy her. Although she refused any analgesics, I noticed that she seemed a little stiffer than usual and slipped her an adult aspirin with her breakfast, rather than an 81 mg-er. I don't know whether it helped.
    She was in a very good mood, though; even took some pleasure in being peeved at the weather and told a lot of "you and your dad"-"you and your granddad" stories. I always love those stories. They remind me that a preference for stormy, low pressure weather is significant and is pre-programmed...and, it makes me feel as though my eccentricities are stretched out over generations of people; what a treat to consider that one is putting one's personal spin on a family trait.
    Oh, I have to mention, when I set up "the other computer" so that Mom could watch and hear the television segment, she was more taken by the fact that she could watch TV on the computer than by the actual story. She likes the idea of a video library-at-large. Sometimes I think she stays around because she has been delighted by all the changes since she was born and is determined to experience a few more before she has to go on. True, she's taking her delights very slowly, now, but she hasn't yet lost her spirit of anticipation. I wonder if she ever will...
    ...later.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

 

If it isn't one thing...

...turns out the gaming console has to charge, initially, for four hours. I should have opened it when it came...it would have been charged by the time Mom was awake, bathed, breakfasted and ready to pounce. As it is, she's napping now. Before she laid down she wanted to know "how much longer the thing has left to charge."
    "Two hours and twenty-three minutes."
    "Call me in two and a half hours, then."
    "That's an awfully long nap."
    "I'm going to need all the rest I can get to play the game!"
    "I should hope not!"
    We reviewed all the parts, took out the stylus and handled it and read the Brain Age instruction booklet after breakfast. The booklet is interesting in and of itself. It gives a brief history of the game, the theories upon which it is based, explains the types of exercises thoroughly, backs up what the exercise is supposed to do to one's brain with pictures, gives some very simple brain geography...Mom was fascinated with the booklet. So was I.
    She no longer remembers that she expressed interest in the game after having seen a segment about it on 60 Minutes a week and a half ago, so I'll play the segment for her on the computer before we begin so that she can see people playing it and adopt a proper gaming mindset.
    The game is preset in training mode, I guess you could call it. The instructions make it clear that once you have completed the exercises for a particular day you can repeat them but your score will not change nor will new exercises be introduced until the following day. Probably a good idea. The game also includes what I would call "pop quizzes", little "extra" exercises for fun and surprise.
    The game stresses, in particular, the brain benefit of reading aloud. Mom registered this and I saw, out of the corner of my eye, her eyebrows go up. I initiated a short conversation on her reluctance to read aloud, anymore (for many years, in fact). And, it's true, she hasn't practiced in awhile so it's as awkward to listen to as it is to do, but I think I'm going to encourage her to read aloud, at least a little, when we read in the evening. When we "watch" the Bible DVD she mouths the words as the narrator reads. I don't suppose this counts, but I find it reassuring that she's following along and remembers beloved passages from long ago.
    As part of the set-up for each "player", one must perform an interesting oral exam which is fully explained in the booklet; a simple mind trick. This involves speaking into the game, as well. There is a written alternate but Mom and I went over the exam in the book and she understands it well right after coaching. So, I'm a little anxious about how the set-up for Mom is going to go. I suppose we can delete and restart profiles as many times as we wish, if she doesn't snap to and understand what's going on the first time around when the computer speaks to her. I'm afraid she might rely on me to "translate", and that will surely screw up the audio training of the game that's going on in the background. We'll see how it goes.
    Above all, I want the set-up and first trial of the game to be as stress free and "fun" as possible. I should record it as a podcast. I hope I remember to do that.
    Later.

 

I'm having a horrible time publishing through Blogger.

    Just wanted to let you know. I finally got through a few minutes ago on one post that's been hanging around for several hours.
    I am one of their clients who is being affected by the stoppage in globally republishing a blog (used especially for changes in template), but this post publishing problem is a new one. I reported it a few minutes ago; couldn't find anything in their databases on it, and I checked my server. It's clear. I'm even on "the other computer", but that didn't help for a good half hour or so.
    It's approaching two. I'll be rousing Mom, soon, and telling her about the arrival of the game console. Should be interesting. I'm going to try to remember to ask her to do a "mental map" of her neighborhood, a la a suggestion by the author of The Yellow Wallpaper.
    Later.

 

Brain Age has arrived.

    Just.
    I'm not even going to open the shipping box until she awakens, has bathed and we're at a point in her morning routine where she can either handle or supervise the opening of the box. I've decided that we should both figure it out cold, in front of her, with her doing as many of the manipulations as possible. I have no idea what to expect.
    I'm not sure when she'll be up. Her light didn't go out until 0200 this morning. And, as I recall, hold on, let me check...well, I didn't mention it, but she had no nap yesterday; from 1300 - 0200 the following morning.
    I, however, have been napping a lot lately. Yesterday I got in three. I'm a little abashed by this, but I've been feeling like I've had something going on with my throat glands for a couple of days. When I decide I need to take a nap, that's it. In a couple of cases I even make myself a cup of coffee, while freshening Mom's; and napped, anyway. Since most of these naps are taking place either when Mom is up or close to when she's due to arouse, I sleep out in the living room, in full view, so to speak. Usually, this means that the slightest shuffle will awaken me. Not so, though, over the past three or so days. When I'm asleep, even on the couch, I'm out. I usually sleep deeply for about an hour, awaken, try to figure out what day and time of day it is, and Mom is usually up, checking on me with glances cast behind her rocker, saying things like, "So, you finally decided to wake up!"
    She's been very good about the odd meals, lately. I've been choosing light things, primarily what I like, requiring very little preparation. She's been up for it, pronouncing each medley, "Delicious! Just what I wanted." Considering that we're inextricably bound, recently, in summer weather this is nice. I'm good at summer meals. Although the recent afternoon rains have inspired me to consider making a few of my fruitcakes. Or, at least, another spice cake loaded with dried fruit and soaked with rum for a couple of days. I may do that today. Looks like we'll be getting rain, most of the afternoon, here, shortly.
    She's also been good about me sleeping, although I notice she's not taking any more or longer naps than usual. Late yesterday afternoon I conked out while she was watching Murder, She Wrote. I awoke, surprised, at 1901. Mom was still thoroughly engrossed in The Biography Channel (I must admit, they have sedately lurid programming; one of the higher rungs of tabloid journalism). It looked as though she'd gone to the bathroom on her own, as well...her paper underwear was hanging a little low. She'd finished her coffee. So, the first thing I did upon awakening was refill her cup and make me one.
    So, we'll wait on the game. I'm not going to make any prejudgments prior to both of us being exposed to it. Although her signature shows some loss of function due to loss of practice, I'm optimistic that she'll have no problem with a stylus.
    Later.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

 

Yesterday was a Spectacle Movie type of day.

    Know what I mean? Started very early. Unexpected, plentiful rain during the latter half of The Agreed Upon Day (meaning, beginning around noon). Mom slept through the development of the sky, then awoke as the first drops began to fall. No walkering, of course...too cold and wet. But, no nap, either. We considered going through boxes (we consider this almost every day) but decided another day would a better box day. I managed to get Mom interested in a game of Sorry but once she'd won the first game she was finished.
    "This is a day for a spectacle movie, Mom," I suggested.
    "Oooh! Yes! And popcorn!"
    "And cocoa? Chocolate mint?" I asked.
    "Oh, maybe later. Coffee will be fine."
    I burned the popcorn. It's supposed to be impossible to do this with those auto-bags if you follow the instructions. Most likely, though, this popcorn is old. I was tempted, about three months ago, to buy a case of popcorn. Now I know why I stopped doing that several years ago. On the one hand, there is little as salivarily tempting as popping corn. On the other, the smell of burnt popcorn makes you feel as though you'll never eat popcorn again. Even Mom agreed with this. So, no popcorn.
    After considering The Ten Commandments, Gone With the Wind and All That Jazz, we decided on Amadeus. Perfect choice. Sometimes Mom remembers that she's seen it; yesterday afternoon, Amadeus was a new movie and she watched it intently. Caught every nuance; almost laughed out loud at some lines. At the end she said, "That wasn't really about Mozart, it was about that other fellow."
    This little bit of alertness tempted me to try to get Mom involved in some out loud reading, then I suggested an informal exercise session. Not interested. She just wanted to sit and zone out on her military and ranger shows. I guess alertness works for only so long.
    Rain is supposed to develop again today; for the next several days, in fact, with an interval on Saturday.
    I'm feeling good. The news, by the way, is that the Nintendo DS Video Gaming System will be arriving sometime tomorrow, by Fed Ex. Good. Maybe I'll get a chance to visit with my Fed Ex lady, who, with her husband, takes care of her in-laws at home.
    Blogger seems to be having some trouble publishing just about anything, lately. I started trying to publish this post yesterday evening, and am still trying to publish it, today. Once again...
    ...later.

Monday, June 26, 2006

 

The Brain Age Duuuhs

    When the package arrived, I have to admit, it seemed odd to me that even a handheld gaming console was coming in a padded envelope. Oh well, I thought, that's what you get with microchips. Then, when I opened the case for Mom I could no longer remain silent: "What is this?!? This isn't a game console!"
    Mom pulled my arms down and stared into the case. "That's one of those game chips."
    I can't believe I didn't know this. "You mean, you have to buy the console separately?!?"
    Mom looked at me as though she was kind enough not to say, "You didn't know that?"
    So, I've ordered a Nintendo DS Video Gaming Console (the official name), best price I could find, rebated (I have good luck with rebates) amazingly low shipping. We'll be receiving it within 2 - 12 days.
    We're both disappointed. My mother confused "console" with an old, old, old game set-up she got to help entertain grandkids. I remember shooting ducks and skeet on it. I was surprisingly good. Anyway, she thought we could use that. I knew better and, besides, I have no idea where the various pieces of the old, old, old game are. I'm sure, though, this tiny microchip, from which you can barely read the name of the game, would not operate in whatever "console" she has. She is agitated by this thought, though, and the game case is in front of her to remind her. Maybe I'd better move it.
    Not sure how the evening is going to unfold. Not even sure what we're going to eat tonight.
    Later...
    ...maybe.

 

Brain Age has arrived.

    Mom's down for her nap. The UPS guy rang while she was in the bathroom on the way to the bed. I brought the package in and let her try to open it, even though I knew she wouldn't be able to get into it. It's hers after all. Let her enjoy as much of the initial excitement as she can and invite me to get involved as she needs me. So, of course, I ended up ripping the envelope (it comes in an 8 x 10 padded envelope) open. She looked it over. Noticed it was "hot. I hope this didn't ruin it."
    I hope not, too.
    She's excited, but not enough to eschew a nap. What was I thinking?!?
    So, we'll be trying it out tonight, after her lunch, before her dinner. I'm, hmmm...less than expectant...very curious, I guess. Each time I've talked about the game since we saw the segment about it, she's had to ask what I'm talking about. When it arrived I had to retell the entire Brain Age story to her.
    I got her out on the driveway. She was fighting it, though. It looks as though we're going to have a couple of days of volatile weather, including, of course, atmospheric pressure. Mom was pretty sure, after breakfast, which was over by 1300, that she wasn't interested in a walkering, but gave in. I think she was right. She ached the whole way out and the whole way back, although nothing specific. I asked her several times if her back or knee (right one) were bothering her. They never did. When we got to the outer end of the driveway, she sat down on her walker and told me I could wheel her back.
    I laughed. "Well, I can in the wheel chair. But, you'll have to get up, with my help, to get back down in it, and you'll need to get up to get in the house."
    I was blocking her sun. She squinted up at me. "Too much trouble."
    She made it back to the house and sighed, long and hard, when she was seated, once again, in her rocker. She wasn't gasping for breath. I think her body just wasn't interested, today. She looked good and ruddy, though. Stood tall during her bathing. Resisted well.
    So, we'll wait until she gets up. Despite her body's reaction to the stormy weather, her mind seems to be doing well, today. She was up three hours and forty-five minutes before she felt like she needed a nap.
    I'm a little under the weather, too, but nicely so. It's been cloudy on and off, today. Humidity and dew point are high. Not monsoon high, but afternoon thunderstorm high. The air is thick. Temperature up here cooler than expected. The cats got out again today and I decided, I'm not freaking at all. Mr. Man came in as soon as he noticed me noticing him. The Little Girl was out for about forty-five minutes before she turned up on the back deck, signaling that she was ready to be let in. All I can say is I'm glad her appointment is tomorrow. I'm resigned that, one way or another, they're both Outward Bound, now. I'm going to keep them in as much as possible, but they need to be protected when they're out.
    I'm concerned that my mother will become so used to seeing them out that she'll forget that they are indoor cats. The Little Girl has already gotten in the habit of letting us know when she wishes to go out, whether she finds a way out or not, as though she is due these special privileges. I'm afraid Mom will automatically open the door for her, instead of making her stealthly work for it.
    Ah, well. If they get out again, well, they'll be protected, as much as is possible. If they become really used to it, I suppose I should consider a kitty door.
    We don't have bears but we have mountain lions; aggressive little foxes; blind, charging javalina; a number of desert predatory birds; not to mention the lesser problem of skunks, large, beautiful, woolly, brave rodents. Makes me shudder.
    I'll check back...
    ...later.

 

Okay. This is getting frustrating.

    I wrote an Addendum: $25.00 to the I Can't Get It for You Wholesale essay this morning. It's posted (at the first of the two immediately previous links). It's added to the template of origin. I can't seem to get Blogger to completely publish this site's template, though, so the essay resists showing up in the links section.
    So, I'm forced to publish a post, here, to at least get it on the most recent version of the template. Assuming Blogger is publishing at all, at the moment.
    It's going to be a cloudy, humid, cool-er day today. Good outlook for thunderstorms this afternoon. I don't think we'll be using either the front room window a/c or the evap cooler today. Neither would be affective; the a/c would be irritating. Yet again, the atmospheric pressure is active. I'll let Mom sleep in until noon, her 12-hour sleep mark, if she isn't up earlier. I think I'll be staying in, cleaning up a few more essays. Maybe today would be a good day to muse about my family's caregiving history.
    So, here goes. Let's see if the link publishes.
    Later.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

 

"Their slow metabolism in the cold helps them grow older, and bigger."

    This is a quote, from a PBS episode of Nature about the evolution of sea life Under Antarctic Ice, a program Mom and I are watching as I type.
    The above quoted sentence reminded me that I often think that one of the reasons Mom enjoys longevity is because she lives slow and hibernates when she perceives it to be cold. Makes sense on several levels, actually. I was startled, though, and vindicated, that what I wonder about is a legitimate detail of evolutionary theory; albeit in under ice animals.
    I often think of Katherine Hepburn in this context. I understand (and, this may be a misunderstanding) that, in her prime, she used to insist that she needed 14 hours of sleep a day.
    I've been finishing and adding essays. When I think I'm done for the duration, I'll stop and bring your attention to them, although they are stacking up over in the links section.
    Later.

 

I just published another essay...

...How To Be Where You Are. It also appears to the right in the Links Section. It's been on my mind for awhile. I might be pulling out more starts and finishing them today. Seems like a good day to do that.
    Later.

 

For those of you awaiting a report on Brain Age and my mother...

...I just checked the shipping manifest. It is due to arrive on Monday, 6/26/06. It is coming UPS. Our UPS guy always saves our area for last, so we could receive it anywhere from 1600 to 1800. It will be opened and tried immediately upon arrival; if Mom isn't up, I'll get her up. I may not get around to posting a review of our first experience with it until the following day, though, depending on how engaging the instrument is.
    I'm also doing a little catching up. There was a period when Blogger was up and down so much the comment facility was rarely available, middle of June. I just added two comments and one response to the first comment onto a 6/08/06 post to which they referred. They are available at the bottom of the post. The first comment and the response is about dementia and diabetes.
    I also updated the Blood Pressure Averages as far as I can. Her BP seems to be under better control, lately.
    Just piddly stuff. I may be doing some more before I close down my evening.
    Maybe...
    ...later.

All material copyright at time of posting by Gail Rae Hudson

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