Mom & Me One Archive: 2002-2003

As of May 1, 2010...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Fri, 30 Apr 2010 04:20:00 +0000

...Blogger will no longer allow FTP publishing. Updates to this blog, which will probably be few to none, since this section of The Mom & Me Journals dot Net is, essentially, closed by time, can be found at http://momandmeonearchive.blogspot.com. This section of the journal will also remain at in it's domain directory, so accessing links should not present a problem.

If you've hung in here with me...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sun, 04 Jan 2004 08:21:00 +0000

...or have stumbled upon this site while searching you know that I've been, well, overwhelmed enough with the intensity of taking care of my mother through a recent back injury that I haven't been updating here, at all.
    Aside from having to quickly become more enveloped in my mother's life than I imagined I was gracefully capable of doing, I also ran into some technical problems with the software on this site that were driving me insane and decided, about the time of my mother's fall, to fix and redesign the site and look for another journaling site. I've found it. The address is here: The Mom & Me Journals dot Net. It is a continuation of this journal. Throughout the next few weeks this entire journal project will be restructured but will remain easy through which to negotiate. None of the material will be lost. I will be making much more frequent postings, probably lots shorter and much more stream of conscious and will be doing a lot of cleaning up around here.
    In the meantime suffice it to say that my mother is a challenge but is doing fine, relatively speaking. I'm not afraid that she is going to die in the night tonight, or any other night in the immediate future. She is much more mobile than she was the first few weeks after her initial fall. Her healing remains very, very slow and I'm still functioning as parts of her body. The present situation would be pretty weird to contemplate if it didn't seem so normal to me, now.
    I know I've mentioned to several people verbally although I don't know if I've mentioned it here, that I continue to be surprised, pleasantly but bordering on shock, nonetheless, at how well I'm handling this. I've always been afraid of something like this happening although I've imagined much worse: A major stroke, etc. If I'd been told ahead of time that this was coming I would have made the silent assumption that it would drive me crazy and I would fail the task(s and multi-tasking) set before me. So I'm glad I didn't know ahead of time. Thankfully, my attitude throughout has been stellar, much to my surprise, and this has been a big help.
    I have much more to report, but let me officially cross over to the continuation of this journal, back into regular updates as our journey continues. You'll notice above a prominent link to the continuation. That will remain permanent, as, I expect, will this post, since it will probably be the last made in this segment. This site will remain a history site will be the consolidation of all my history pages plus this serialization of this journal as an archive. You will notice in the next few weeks lots of shuffling of links and expanded link sections in order to cross-reference material. It will all be easy and all pages and sites now in existence will remain up and subject to updating and posting.
    Gotta go. See you around the corner.

What was the name of the place we used to live...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Mon, 17 Nov 2003 20:36:00 +0000

...Palmas del Sol?"
    Did you catch that? "...the place we used to live...". She asked this late this morning. Mesa is in the past for her now. This wrenches my heart a bit. I know both the quantity and the quality of emotional attachment she had toward that place. I also know how well she does here, how much she likes it, how easy it has been for her to divorce herself from the mobile home in Mesa.
    It's true that we have 100% more company up here and, as such, we see our people more often. The sun agrees with my mother and we have loads of it all winter. The colors, the view, the ambiance of our property all agree with her. The last four weeks have been very hard on her due to spraining her back but we're getting through that. I'm convinced, since it was due to my mother's too good generosity of nature that got her into this fix, that eventually something of a similar sort would have happened. Now I know not to do anything around her in which I really don't want her attempting to participate. Hard lesson to learn and initiate but worth it.
    I spoke with the acupuncturist earlier. I am very confident about the appointment we made with her for Wednesday morning at 1000. Mom is hanging in there. Her color looks good (better than yesterday; she attributes this to us having baked ham last night and this morning, one of her favorite foods) and her back is still "giving [her] fits".
    Sometimes, while sitting quietly, her creative memory will dump the file that tells her she is having back problems. She'll move suddenly or in a way her back currently deems unseemly and she'll cast me a look of surprise and say, "My back!" as though this is the first time it's done what she calls "grabbing".
    This has been going on long enough. The truth is, I was leaving whether I call the acupuncturist up to her because, at the moment her debilitation gives her very few choices including small things like whether or not to drink something, whether or not to eat, etc. Since her back will eventually improve and I can see some small improvement day to day I decided to let her call the shots on this one. She hasn't been completely against treatment. One of her favorite shows though, "Everwood", features a doctor who practices acupuncture. Since I have begun talking up treatment, the show has featured two episodes in which acupuncture is used. I think the sight of the needles took my mother aback. She is used to me talking about the "acupressure" techniques I use on the soles of her feet and what this stimulation does, but the needle/electronic stimulation surprised her. It took this last weekend of me watching her wince in pain when her back "grabbed" and me bursting into sobs for me to finally take her choice out of her hands and tell her that on Monday I was going to call and seek treatment.
    At this point, a brief history of how we came to seek out acupuncture is in order (dates exact, unless otherwise stated):

October 25, 2003, 1330: Mom falls backward and sprains her back. She immediately rolls over, pulls herself to a sitting position on a low step, says she isn't hurt, then her back grabs as she leans forward.
She insists "nothing is broken", although her only experience of broken bones is decades old and is a tail bone that wasn't detected for years and, when detected, was removed, also decades ago. She is, though, moving around, the wind was not knocked out of her, she is in obvious pain but "ambulatory" so, for better or worse, I accede to her wish not to go the ER.
Monday morning, after a bad Sunday, I overrule her preference to stay out of the ER.
    "They won't do anything, just send me home with pain killers, and I don't want that."
    Which is exactly what they did. I couldn't lift her and she was so stiff and sore I wasn't sure she could move in any way she hadn't been moving over the last 36 hours. I called an ambulance, called her doctor in Mesa and we went to the ER. The stay was a little over 2 hours. They stimulated her back electronically and did a few things to her that caused her to vomit. She vomited a little fresh blood, their ministrations caused her exceeding discomfort, they did a poor job of cleaning her up, gave her a prescription for Vicodin and sent her home. With me. In great pain.
    It seems that the fresh blood was from the large amounts of ibuprofen I'd been feeding her over the weekend and that morning but the vomiting wasn't from that. However, I learned my lesson quickly. Despite the high occurrence of constipation on Vicodin and my mother's tricky-at-best bowels, I decided to give her the Vicodin. It caused extreme dopiness, which made it difficult to keep her moving as the physical therapist suggested, only barely dulled the pain, made it even more difficult to keep her hydrated, which was already more of a chore than usual and she did not feel good or look good on it. During the first week and a half of intense pain, though, I kept her on it, although judiciously.
At this point our supply of Vicodin ran out and so did suppliers. I spent this week and a half finding out that it would be impossible for us to find appropriate, and appropriately timed, physician follow-up in this town, her Mesa doctor was unwilling to treat or prescribe over the phone, our only recourse for any kind of follow-up was the ER again or Urgent Care and we both knew exactly what would happen at either of these places. In the meantime I had secured her a "new patient" appointment with a highly recommended physician here, for, unfortunately, December 1st. Now we were stuck with Time and only Time as the healer and Mom's bowels were impacting.
I administered an enema to Mom on November 5th. Although it sounds intolerable coupled with the pain of a sprained back, something told me that it would offer immediate relief. It did. It alleviated a lot of pressure, did not cause any more pain, and her spirits improved immensely.
Time does heal but sometimes not quickly enough. A friend in Prescott recommended acupuncture about two weeks ago. I talked it up and Mom sounded game until she saw the episodes of "Everwood" in which acupuncture was used. Although she is not known to be afraid of needles it gave her cause to rethink the treatment.
Two weeks hence, in utter frustration, I am now dictating the treatment.

    This afternoon, as I can, I'm going to begin updating this site and will be adding a second tier to it, the url to be published later today, probably. I'm going to slowly phase out using this auto-sitebuilder Earthlink provides and start hand crafting my pages and uploaded them via FTP. That should help keep my count straight. I've also found two new possibilities for blogging software, both of which I intend to try on the new site. I'll let you know when to switch over and provide a great big link to the continuing portion of this website. Parts of it may migrate back and forth from time to time but I will keep you updated here and on changes.
    It's good to be back.
    Later.

Wow. 10/17/03 was my last post.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Mon, 17 Nov 2003 16:17:00 +0000

    Although I haven't checked (I should and I will after posting this), as I recall things were going well. The reason I wasn't posting was because the two of us were becoming quite active, almost social, in fact. Mom's health was doing well, she was getting out someplace with the aid of oxygen every day, we were beginning to "go out to eat" more, which is one of my mother's favorite social pastimes...
    Then, on October 25, 2003, at about 1330, Mom fell and sprained her back. It was a part of her character that most people would consider "good" that did her in. My mother is A Helper. She cannot resist the urge to offer a hand. On that day we were anticipating the delivery of a television that my mother would actually be able to see and hear. I had lifted our old TV, weighing a bulky but easily managed 35-40 lbs., and had swiveled away from the coffee table off of which I'd lifted it. My mother had been watching all the preparations from a chair in the dinette. Suddenly she was at my side offering to "help" me.
    "No!" I yelled, in various versions, such as, "I've got it!" and "Get away!" And, sure enough, as my mother simply reached underneath the TV the muscles in her lower back grabbed and she fell flat on her, well, back.
    Yes, it is sprained, lower lumbar region, right side worse than left but no bones are broken. I took her to the emergency room in medical transport and brought her home in our LUV truck. She's been in pain of varying degrees since. Finding medical follow-up has been frustrating. Our only choices seem to be taking her back to the ER or taking her into Urgent Care. No private doctors have been available for immediate follow-up although we have made a "new patient" appointment "not a follow-up to your mother's current problem" the appointment-maker advised me twice, with a highly recommended new doctor in the area. Earliest we could get in? December 1st, 2003.
    She was on Vicodin, both 500 & 750 mgs, for almost two weeks. When we ran out, keeping her on 600 mg ibuprofen every 5 hours when she's up seems to be doing exactly what the Vicodin did without the constipation that finally required me administering a much resisted yet relieving enema to my mother.
    We continue to have problems with severe watershed when she is sleeping although it is abating in comparison with the first week to week and a half. She is moving more, although not much more. She is staying up more, although not much more. And she is always in pain, always wincing from a random back spasm.
    I've been trying to get her to assent to seeing a highly recommended acupuncturist in the area. Although she's not prejudiced against alternative medicine, she's taken some alternative treatments from me well, the idea of having needles stuck in her has not appealed to her and she has believed that she can handle this and it will get better day by day. This weekend, though, I broke down and started sobbing when I simply couldn't take the physical evidence of her pain anymore. I told her, no more choices (I'd been hanging onto letting her make this one choice, as she, presently, has very few choices left to her while I companionate her through this healing). I'd be calling the acupuncturist on Monday.
    My mother must have been psychically engineering the call behind the scenes. The acupuncturist is in Tuesday through Friday, 0800 - 1700.
    I'm very excited about the possibilities. At one point, which my mother forgot, I told her I'd sign up for treatment of something if she would and I'd go first so she could see whether or not I perished. Although I finally discovered the source of the carpal tunnel syndrome I've developed over the last few months (the way I massage my mother's feet) and changed it, the original bizarre development continues and makes other things difficult so I could have that treated. I think, though, that my mother may have forgotten this unsuccessful lobbying technique of mine. If she doesn't mention it I'll wait and see how her treatments go, or, for that matter, whether the acupuncturist will feel she can help my mother. It has occurred to me that she may have nothing to offer my mother. I hope I'm wrong about that.
    I've been taking fairly regular blood sugar readings. Those still need to be posted. I'm considering switching to HTML by hand, with which I am fairly handy and restarting the log like that. I think I won't continue to get the inaccurate "over published" notice if I hand build and ftp my site. I am, as well, trying out a few other web log facilities. I will probably switch. In addition I will not be getting rid of past information but adding it with the new. Not, however, through an auto site builder. So I may very well open up a totally new site shortly with this site remaining as history.
    We'll see. My intense involvement with my mother, essentially becoming her body, is pretty draining of both time and energy. I expect this to alleviate but I'm not sure when. It will surely continue to affect the work I'm able to do on this site.
    As well, as a reminder to myself, I have other things to report about sisters and friends and medical communities, which I'll attempt to do...
    ...later.

Company, company company.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Fri, 17 Oct 2003 07:02:00 +0000

Company's not the only reason I've been here much less frequently to post but it's one of the major reasons. This time though, this year, I've taken well to all the company, which is good because we have one more company ridden week to go.
Other reasons for not posting anything:

Mom is decidedly more active (for her) and it is relatively easy to get her out and about so I've been taking advantage of this. As usual, she tends to think going out is a good idea then resists when it comes to getting ready. Once we're out, though, she's a live wire for the rest of the day and often finds it unnecessary to nap in the afternoon.
I'm feeling much more settled, now that we've decided to get rid of the house in Mesa and settle down. I've been working the house and the yard like crazy and immediately jump into every urge I have to do this.

    Today (Thursday) we went for flu shots. The line was long but the county health people were extremely helpful and provided two chairs for Mom, one two thirds of the way down the line and one close to the beginning. I kept an eye on her and her oxygen while I moved us up the line. Most of the time I was out of her sights but she was in mine. This gave me a chance to observe her "in her element" without my presence affecting her behavior. I believe she was the oldest person there. Everyone who passed her in line talked to her. Her eyes glittered with delight at the chance to do some up close people watching and people chatting. As I watched her I was reminded of the book club friend of mine who, when I mentioned that my mother was "ancient", corrected my description by telling me Mom actually came across as alert, proud and of generous spirit, obviously a one-time beauty who was used to being noticed and approached and who continued to think of herself in this way. I had a great time observing her and chatting up people in line, myself.
    I know I have a lot to make up here. I'm not completely finished fixing the pages that this auto-site builder mangled, I have a good half month of blood glucose levels to record, can't really remember how I've altered her med administration from day to day although I've been doing that all along and now have a new medical toy, a wrist blood pressure monitor. I've only taken her BP once and it seemed in line with what she normally reads at the doctor's office. I will be starting a fairly regular reading and recording of her blood pressure once I'm able to get back to this site on a regular basis. In the meantime, we're doing well, both of us, life is busy and good and I am exhilarated and grateful.
    Thankyou.

I'm back, sort of...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Wed, 15 Oct 2003 23:53:00 +0000

...to a short purpose but intend to be back later this evening or tomorrow after flu shots. The purpose is this:

I am curious about the person who pulled the following search on this site, last week: "anemia related to glucophage use". I would very much like to find out what you've heard of this and what your experience and/or information is. If you come back to this site please contact me through my email address at the bottom of the page or through the guest book, in which you can leave either a public or private message. I searched it within my sight as well to see if I had used this phrase. I hadn't but this is a subject I am very curious about and would like to see if you have heard of this anywhere but on this site. Thank you, in advance, if I should catch you.

Later.

We've fallen hard, today, out of visit week.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sat, 11 Oct 2003 06:50:00 +0000

MCS & BIL are headed back to Colorado. I wish Mom and I were able to take two days on the road to drive out of visit week and contemplate, in the womb of road noise, all that happened. Instead, we're reeling from the drop back into our two-sided life.
There is much to report including updated blood glucose numbers. There are gaps in my recording and lots of blips out of normal range but none of this affected my mother's high merriment, deep satisfaction and wry vitality throughout the week. Some important decisions were made about living arrangements that I'll cover as I catch up over the next few days. Tonight I just want to mention that a very successful visit week is over, I haven't forgotten this site and more reports will be forthcoming.

My mother said something curious, thought provoking and peculiar, today.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sat, 04 Oct 2003 07:00:00 +0000

    I'll cover the context later when I'm not so tired but I want to record what she said as exactly as I remember it before losing more of it in sleep than I've already lost in wakefulness and exhaustion.
    This is, unfortunately, a paraphrase, but very close to the original:
    "All these moves I've made and none of them has been an upgrade."
    We were speaking, specifically, of houses. We were arguing about houses, heatedly discussing whether we could still afford two houses (me speaking financially, although she accused me of speaking emotionally; her speaking emotionally, although she denied this). It was then that she dropped this bomb on me, a bomb with a variety of explosive effects: A bomb with several separately timed release segments.
    I have known since, it seems, forever that my mother has a dream home. She has had bits and pieces of it in some of the houses she's inhabited. We had, on Guam in one of our homes, "Quarters A-2" (so named because it had once, just after WWII, been the commanding officer's quarters) an almost industrial sized kitchen, for instance, with loads of cupboard, pantry and counter space and a large attached utility room. She loved these areas. Most of our family's life went on in the kitchen. My mom's and dad's farm in Wichita Falls, Texas, also had such a kitchen with a somewhat more recessed dining room and loads of other rooms which my mother loved but with which she and my father did nothing. It was also a "farm house" which my mother loved. Her dream home is part farm house in that it is on a farm but is more a type of split level ranch style mansion/home featured in the late, great, evening soap "Dallas", a program which she loved chiefly because of the Ewing's home.
    I have memories of my father and her collaborating on detailed floor plans of her (yes, "her"; I think my father adopted his because she had one) dream home.
    Certain aspects of her dream home have changed over the years. She now dreams of homes much like the classic "Victorian style" (not to be confused with Victorian) historical homes surrounding a one mile or so circumference of Prescott's Courtyard Square.
   I know she's never had her dream home.
    The point of me mentioning this, though, is that, until today I never knew how badly she has wanted this home of hers and how far she feels she is and, apparently, has always been from it.
    Knowing this has already had more than a few repercussions on my wondering about her, our companionship, and our lives together (which will remain together until she dies if I don't precede her in disability and death).

It doesn't look as though anyone in the world has noticed...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Thu, 02 Oct 2003 04:55:00 +0000

...that recently I haven't posted every day and I'm a few days behind on recording blood glucose numbers on Mom. I've been taking them. It's just been a very busy couple of days for several reasons, not the least of which is that I am preparing for a much anticipated visit from MCS & BIL. The visit will be quite active and intense. MCBIL is going to help me out with some much needed minor home repairs in both our houses. I expect that they will be very curious about Prescott and ready to savor the area with my mother and me. We also have lots to talk about including the possible sale of the home in Mesa and a permanent move up here. My journal entries, blood glucose reports and fixing of this website will continue to be highly erratic for exactly the next week and a half.
I'll be checking in as I can, posting as I can, but, mostly, enjoying the very active period coming up shortly.

I am very tired, tonight...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Mon, 29 Sep 2003 08:03:00 +0000

...but I wanted to post some significant events of the last few days.
    Yesterday, although I allowed Mom to rise late, I had a purpose. I decided the previous evening to begin in earnest my plan of getting her out at least once a day, as she is again showing signs of wanting to spend all day and all night in bed. So, I did, with much protest from her. I also bugged her about drinking fluids all day long. As we made our way through Pet Smart and Costco (both brief visits, the entire trip with oxygen, and me relenting at Costco and letting her sit out my search for our last of three items), I managed her cart handling (to which she tends not to pay attention) like a kindly drill sergeant. She wanted me to walk before her and she'd follow but I told her that when I walk ahead of her she doesn't watch her cart and where she's going, she watches me and slams into both things and people, so we'd walk together. We had one more place to go after Costco, the local grocery to pick up a few items. She was clearly tired though, and hungry, wanting the burger and onion rings I mentioned (I wasn't actually able to get her out until very late in the day...she balked the entire day away), so I allowed her to sit the trip out in the car, went for ice, was gone maybe 10 minutes.
    When I returned to the car she'd had a shitting accident. I wasn't surprised. On our way home I was low key about it. As I drove, though, internally my frustration level rose to a heretofore unreached peak. By the time we arrived home I was no longer a kindly drill sergeant, I was somewhat closer to the drill sergeant in Full Metal Jacket. I decided I'd had it. I needed her cooperation to get her going and I wasn't going to take no for an answer.
    I hit her with my best shot. After I'd cleaned her and unloaded the car I directed her to the dining room table and ordered her to sit. The following is a paraphrased version of what I told her, no holds barred.
    "Look," I began. "I'm angry about this shitting accident, today. There was no excuse for it. It was, again, a result of your insistence on not moving, not even sitting upright, insisting on going to bed, insisting on walking away from full bathtubs, insisting on doing absolutely nothing to improve your life. I've had it. I am no longer sympathetic to your lethargy. I'm not interested in cleaning up any more of your shitting accidents unless they are absolutely necessary, and this one was absolutely unnecessary. There was no dietary reason for it. There is no disease that can be blamed for it. It was strictly a result of your lethargy. I'm not going to allow this anymore. From now on, until you've figured out what's good for you, I'm going to determine that. You think you're stubborn. Well, lady, let me tell you, when I get frustrated and angry I'm hell on wheels and you can set your watch by that. I'm not going to be sympathetic anymore. I don't care how stubborn you can be, I'm not going to let you crawl back into bed anymore. I'm not going to allow you to wallow in boredom. I'm not going to let you refuse to do everything that you need to do. I've had it up to here (indicating a level, with my hand, high over my head), so much so that I've been thinking over the last few days that maybe I need to put you in a nursing home. But, you know, that would only be good for me, not for you, so that's not going to happen. I can guarantee you though, from this day forward, if you have any ideas about wasting the rest of your life in bed and shortening it like that, you're going to wish you were in a nursing home. I've finally realized that you don't need sympathetic kindness, you need someone to kick your ass and I just pulled my boots on and I'm ready. When I say 'jump', from now on you had better jump or I'm going to kick you into a jump until it gets to the place where you want to jump on you're own. At this point you are perfectly capable of turning toward life, you're just being lazy now and I'm not going to let that continue. It's bad for you, it's bad for me, and it's stopping right here, right now. I'm tired of hounding you to drink water. I'm tired of losing those stupid battles we have over whether you're even going to stay up for the day. I'm tired of all this shit and I'm going to see to it that I pull both of us out of this mire or we're both going to die of my trying. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
    She had been staring at me the whole time rather than looking down or out the window as she usually does when I 'lecture' her. "Yes," she said, not meekly but with some surprise.
    "Do you understand that I don't care anymore whether you want to do what I tell you needs to be done? I'm going to see to it that you do it anyway and I'm going to expect you to start taking up the slack and becoming more active in the quality of your life?"
    "Yes." That was a firm, although still surprised, yes.
    "Do you understand that you're perfectly capable now of doing this and that I've had enough experience with you and your body in this last year to know when you are capable and when you're legitimately not?"
    "Yes." A clear, firm "yes", as though she was beginning to resolve some things within herself.
    "Do you remember how I always say when I'm trying to get you moving that I'm not asking you train for the marathon?"
    "Yes."
    "Well, guess what. I've changed my mind. Marathon training begins right now, and the marathon is your life. Do you get that?"
    "Yes."
    Today we started training for the marathon. It went well. I let her sleep in until almost 11:00 because she stayed up very late last night, as did I. Once she was up I kept her going all day. She bathed. I told her she's going to bathe everyday from now on. She tried to get out of going along on the errands we ran. I told her she didn't have a choice. She tried to take her oxygen off once during the trip. Instead of gently reminding her to put it back on I scolded her; not harshly but enough so that she didn't take it off the rest of the trip. I wasn't unreasonably hard on her. At one point, at the grocery, she needed to rest and I let her sit while I went searching for soy sauce. I forced her to become involved in the decisions we made about what version of Monopoly to buy (we decided we needed another game last night), what vegetables to use in dinner tonight, whether to get soy and make teriyaki sauce from scratch or to buy commercially prepared teriyaki (we decided on the former). I only had to remind her to "remain alert" once with the carts she pushed. From that point on she was alert. She didn't feel the need for a nap today but, frankly, I didn't give her a chance to think about a nap. I gave her a water bottle to carry in the car because she mouth breathes when she's on oxygen and it dries her out and I'll be damned if she didn't drink out of it on her own without being reminded. I depended on her to be as alert as she could be, and she was.
    At one point when we were discussing plans for the rest of the week and she started in on her childish, incessant "Why's" to try to get me to delete a few of the activities from our list I said, "Do you remember the conversation we had last night?"
    Her eyebrows arched and her vision focused. "Yes," she said.
    "Well then, you know the answer to that question. Don't ask me again."
    Amazingly, without me constantly bugging her to drink water, stay up, do this, do that, she was well hydrated this evening, had a hearty appetite, was lively and animated all day, looked good tonight. When she finally decided to go to bed she was genuinely tired, not bored.
    Maybe, just maybe, I'm finally figuring out how to handle this woman in her Ancient One years, this woman whom I love at least as much as I love myself. Maybe this time we're really on our way out of the morass of the last few years.

My problems with this auto-site builder continue.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sat, 27 Sep 2003 18:31:00 +0000

    Almost all the time I have to spend on the computer is involved in resetting the pages. It's a slow process even though I have copies of everything. Trellix, as a server side piece of software, will not recognize pages uploaded from my computer, thus, will not open them for editing, even though they are displayed normally when accessed. I have to reset all the pages through Trellix so they are available for editing. Thus, this post and, I expect, most of them for the next several days, will be short and sweet, much to those few of my readers' pleasure, I imagine.
    There is something I want to report from yesterday evening. My mother is hard of hearing. This has been the case in one ear since she was a teenager and in the other ear for a few decades. Throughout the years our entire family has continually suggested that when she watches TV I turn on Closed Captioning. She is not comfortable with subtitled movies, though, so I have always accepted her refusal.
    Last night, there was a show on that she and I wanted to watch. Our TV in Mesa, an old one circa the late 70's or early 80's, delivers full, rich sound which is fairly easy for her to interpret. Our Prescott TV, although only 6 years old and both digital and cable ready, has horrible sound that delivers very little mid-range vibration and almost no low-range vibration. It is very difficult for my mother to hear and somewhat scitzy for me to hear. As the volume goes up, sound clarity goes down. My mother became frustrated last night trying to negotiate the program and I was distracted by my efforts to modulate the volume minute-to-minute to her advantage. Finally, on a whim, I decided to turn on Closed Captioning. My mother complained when I triggered but I reminded her that one of the movies we regularly watch that she and I both enjoy is a Dutch movie with English subtitles, Antonia's Line. She has no problem with that.
    Within minutes she was riveted to the set rather than easily distracted by her environment. A half hour into the show when I asked her how she liked CCing.
    She said, as is typical for her, that she "wasn't sure" she "liked it" but the couple of times I played with the CC settings to see what was available to us she complained when the script disappeared from the screen.
    It seems we have solved the problem of her 'hearing' our Prescott television. I'm not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand she is absorbing much more than before. On the other hand, because of the quality of the sound, she has typically watched much less television in Prescott than in Mesa. I think that situation is going to reverse, now. But I'm pleased she is enjoying her programs more.
    "We should have tried this a long time ago, Mom. You know, everybody (in our family) has suggested this for you at one time or another," I said during a commercial toward the end of the show.
    "I believe you're right," she agreed.
    We briefly discussed hearing aids again. When she was watching an Ellen episode that featured Pat Benatar yesterday, I noticed and pointed out to her that Benatar was wearing two hearing aids. I explained to her that hearing loss is typical of many rock stars and some of their fans.
    Although she was intrigued, her final response was (she's so funny, I love this response), "I know one day there'll come a time when I'll have to consider hearing aids. I don't think it's necessary yet."
    I'm thinking that she assumes that maybe when she's 110 hearing aids might be a good idea. My mother: The woman who still believes, at 86, despite her extraordinary practicality about death, that she will never die. This is one of my favorite aspects about her.

I 'm still having major problems with Earthlink/Mindspring's...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Fri, 26 Sep 2003 08:08:00 +0000

...auto site builder, Trellix (I want to be sure and get that name in). I am now beginning to slowly and laboriously readjust and reset my pages. Bear with me...it may be a few days before I get everything back to normal and start posting normally, again.
After doing a little research, including looking up Trellix on the web, I'm also beginning to understand that the reason Earthlink/Mindspring tech support is not handling this problem adequately is that the provider of the site builder software appears to be in transition itself and may not be providing adequate tech support to their customers. Part of the problem may also be that Earthlink newly belongs to Level3. Those aren't excuses but they are probably hang-ups in the tech support aspect. At any rate, I've figured out a few work arounds and will, in time, begin building (and rebuilding) my pages by hand. I've learned my lesson regarding ISP provided auto-site builders. I'm hoping and expecting my problems to be solved by tech support but I've had so many problems with this auto-site builder that I think I've figured out that it's best not to use online auto-site builders.
Damn. And, all I was trying to do, when I decided to use it, was to save myself some time. Now, that time is being consumed negotiating the problems with Trellix. Oh well...one more lesson down, millions more to go...

Although we had planned to visit the strangely-built new mall...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Thu, 25 Sep 2003 18:54:00 +0000

...in Prescott today, Mom awoke with the intention of "attacking" her room and that's fine with me. She's moving slowly as usual but seems devoted to remaining "up on end" (one of her historically famous phrases) so this seems like a good day to get her room in order and begin going through her stuff.
    Since we're remaining home and I won't need to negotiate her blood glucose levels through eating at a restaurant or, for that matter, peach cobbler, the rest of which has been frozen, I've decided to try a day without metformin to see how it goes. I'll also be starting her on a modified regimen of detox tea put out by Yogi Tea. I used it briefly a while back and wasn't able to determine whether it helped her but I've been thinking, since I'm using more metformin on her than I anticipated or like using, it might help keep her liver and kidneys in line. The link above goes right to the type of tea I'll be using, which advertises itself as a liver and kidney purifier. I will, of course, report on any determined or assumed effects.
    Regarding our "bad" day, immediately followed by a "good" day: I'm critically aware of how my mood affects my mother's mood. Although typically not affected by other people's moods, the older my mother gets and the more dependent she becomes on those surrounding her, the more likely she is to react, in very subtle ways, to other people's moods, most especially mine. I've learned (and am still learning, obviously) to try to modify what I broadcast at her because she is extraordinarily dependent on me.
    It is extremely interesting for me to become acquainted with my mother as a person dependent on others, as this is a striking change in her life-long approach to life. I am by nature extremely emotional. The control I exert over my emotions is, most of the time, to simply let them flow and express them. Thus, when my mother's dependence is at a high level I allow myself to be deeply affected by her and I show it. I remember some months ago when we were going through one of the worst episodes of her recent and difficult year-long health negotiation, I was so caught up in caring meticulously for my mother that I confided to her Mesa hairdresser, who is also a good friend, that my overwhelming feeling toward my mother was that I wanted to pick her up like a baby and hold her, rock her, soothe her and energize her back to health.
    When she is feeling physically better, as she is now, a different facet of her dependence glitters. Although she appears, in the morning, to resist my attempts to get her moving, when she is feeling good I can physically feel her feeding off my energy to rouse herself. When she awakens into a "bad" day, though, and I am reluctant to support her lethargy, I can physically feel her blocking my energy output. The day before yesterday involved the strongest blocking I've ever felt from her. It was so strong that I backed off. At that level of strength I assume that her internal drive knows for sure what she needs on that day and it will fight me in any way it can. Today though, although slow, she is not fighting me. She is "leaning" on my energy to get her going.
    Regarding "my audience": I'm aware, from keeping on eye on my stats, that my visitors are few and far between. On those pages which seem to be noticed by bots when someone is searching for medical information (specifically the pages on her meds and her test results), rarely do they get more than a few hits a day. Even my sisters are not regular visitors.
    I'm not discouraged. I feel the pressure of my audience, I hear its questions and comments as I write. I don't yet feel like I'm neglecting them by not going out of my way to publicize this site but I know I have an audience, I know that most of that audience remains unaware of my site and I'm not bothered by this. I would publicize the site more heavily if I had the time to seek out appropriate "Links" pages but I'm also aware, from my brief attempt when I began this site, that other sites that would invite mine have trouble with two aspects: The first being the effusiveness of my site, the second being lack of time to update their "Links" pages. To date I've applied to four appropriate sites. One replied several months ago that they would be "honored" to list me, yet have not updated their links page since. Two others did not respond. One listed me but under an obscure heading. Eldercare and the reporting of it is a dicey exercise for everyone, at this time, especially if one decides to do it as effusively and meticulously as me. Most of the people who might find my site interesting also don't have the time to negotiate all the words. Don't ask me why, but I'm fine with this.
    Mom is breakfasted, dressed and is brushing her teeth in preparation for our day cleaning her room. "Now is the time..."

Maybe it was that I finally accepted Mom's winning yesterday...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Thu, 25 Sep 2003 05:31:00 +0000

...maybe it was that I finally replenished my supply of Black Cohosh after having been out for 5 days. Whatever the reason, today went well.
I have little time to report tonight so I'll cover today tomorrow for my audience...I say that with a Cheshire grin. My audience. This is a reminder to myself to talk about my audience.
Good night.

I was determined to get Mom moving, today. She was determined to stay in bed.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Wed, 24 Sep 2003 06:26:00 +0000

    She won.
    I was, as usual, a poor loser.
    When I am a poor loser regarding my mother's life it is because I run scared when I can't get her moving for a few or more days. I ran scared today.
    Everything was fine at first. I allowed her to awaken at her discretion. Fixed breakfast, laid out the day (all the errands that have been stacking up over the last few days, that I've been insisting on holding until I can get her going with me, which have now become urgent), she sounded interested. Then she balked at the bath. I have never seen her more determined than she was today except when she simply refuses to get out of bed. Her color was good, all her numbers were good but she simply, again, is out of the habit of moving much. It only takes her a few days to get out of the habit.
    At first I bribed. Then I teased. Then I cajoled. Then I spat hard reality at her. The less she moves the weaker she becomes, I pointed out, like today, she was already weaving down the hall rather than walking as she moved from dining room to bathroom. I asked her if she was ready to sleep her way into death, if she wanted to do that now. I repeated that, as I've promised, I would protect her. She denied this. I told her we were headed down exactly the same path that caused her ill health this last year. When she didn't respond to this and we were facing off like bull and toreador I finally broke.
    "Okay. To hell with you," I said. "I've got stuff to do to keep our households running until you die. Do what you want. I don't care. I'll be gone for several hours. You're on your own."
    I left. My errands included a personal stop at a friend's home who needed help on her computer but I'd put her off in lieu of the days I had planned on getting my mother out. I spent a few hours there then ran our errands and didn't get back until just before 1800.
    She was up. She called to me tentatively as I came in the door and told me she was worried about me being gone.
    I was brusque with her. I didn't want to repeat everything I'd said this morning about where I went and what I did so I told her that I was sorry she couldn't remember what happened this morning and why I was gone but I wasn't in the mood to repeat it. I took her blood sugar, asked her if she ate, although I could tell she hadn't, nor had she been drinking any fluids. I made dinner, administered her meds, badgered her to drink water all evening, which she did, as I verbally directed her to pick up her glass and take another swallow. Other than that, we left each other alone for most of the evening.
    When she decided to go to bed I apologized to her for my heavy handed treatment. I also told her I was scared that we were headed down exactly the same road that caused the entire last year, which she did not enjoy. She of course, said, "No, nothing's going to happen." But, stuff does happen regardless of what she thinks or says, and it happens to her, and I can only do so much about getting her out and moving.
    I'm getting so tired of battling her to get her moving. Even when a day turns out well and she thanks me for pushing her, even though she tells me, as she did tonight, that she needs me to push her, I'm getting tired of it and the reward of seeing her respond is wearing thin. It is almost too thin, now, to make up for the daily morning battles.

Although the day held early promise...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Tue, 23 Sep 2003 05:55:00 +0000

...Mom, as it turns out, was almost immovable. I did manage to get her out once after breakfast when we picked up one of her prescriptions. I insisted she go along just to get her dressed and turned out. It was a very short trip, involved almost no walking and Mom went to bed shortly thereafter without deigning acknowledge my argument against napping so soon after arising.
    I decided our trip to Costco and to check out a motel for MCS & BIL could wait until tomorrow. Yesterday some out of town friends visited and, among other much appreciated items and food, left several very soft peaches that needed to be used. I made them into cobbler this afternoon. Since Mom's blood glucose was so good when she awoke ready for lunch and all we were having was cobbler (much to her delight), I thought 425 mg metformin would do the trick. She ended up this evening, before a deli sandwich dinner from yesterday's leftovers, on the high side so I gave her 850 mg metformin. I think the order of those two doses should have been reversed. I'll remember this the next time I treat her to a dessert meal. The metformin works best with the 'forbidden' food.
    I did manage to keep her up from our late lunch time on but she did not want to play any board games, didn't read, didn't pay attention to TV and clearly resented being kept up except when she was eating. Some days just aren't worth getting up for, from my mother's perspective, I guess, and today was one of those days.
    Tomorrow, I've told her, will be a no excuses day unless something happens that requires her hospitalization.
    She laughed.

The Saga of Ellen

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Mon, 22 Sep 2003 19:33:00 +0000

    This is not strictly a Mom & Me circumstance, but a while ago I wrote a story about the "Ellen" in the title of this post. A character in the story named "Sam" is the disguise for my mother. The story is, essentially, true.
    Some of the people who are apt to visit this site, mostly relatives, are very familiar with The Saga of Ellen. There is another development that occurred last night that all who follow this saga will find interesting:
    I was beginning to think that Ellen may have moved out of the neighborhood. Night before last, though, she showed up at the door. She asked why we'd been gone so long, expressed concern about my mother's health and said she hoped I was taking care of her, which I assured her I was. Then she asked for a cigarette, which I politely refused by telling her, "No, Ellen, we've talked about that before," and she left.
    Last night, late, just as I was publishing updates, I heard scuffling at the front screened door to my right by about 7 feet. I looked out and saw what appeared to be a human figure in white moving back and forth right in front of our door.
    I rushed outside and discovered it was Ellen, headed back down our driveway, one of our garbage bags in hand, which she had obviously stolen from our garbage bin right by the front door.
    I yelled at her to bring the garbage back. She offered, over her quickly retreating shoulder, that she would throw it away at her house, as though she was doing me some kind of favor.
    I immediately called the police. An officer who was familiar with Ellen and her Saga in arrived 10 minutes later. We compared histories. I knew some of his, he knew some of ours. I mentioned that I knew she was a difficult case because she'd been picked up several times and, except for prowling, up to now she hasn't broken any laws in her dealings with us, she's just a nuisance. I actually didn't mind, I told him, that some of our garbage was going to be thrown away in her can because, moving back in and all, we've got more garbage than we can handle right now. Until it's on the street curb, though, t is our garbage, she is stealing, and suppose there was sensitive material in the garbage?
    The officer decided that it was time to get serious and bring what law can be brought to bear on her. I was relieved he said this. He suggested as a first step that I swear out a "No Trespassing" citation for a year from the date of issue that bars her from our property. If and when she appears on our property, I would call the police (on the non-emergency number, I noted) and they will dispatch a unit out to "take care of it."
    It sounds like a mini-restraining order. Neither I nor the officer are willing to predict what this will accomplish. He did not indicate whether anyone else in the neighborhood had taken such a step, although I can imagine that the neighbor portrayed as "Daniel" in my story probably has. He was pretty proactive and he and his wife remain in the neighborhood.
    The officer filled me in on a bit more of Ellen's background. She does, indeed, live with her mother and she has and lives with a 14 year old daughter who is aware of her mother's "condition". The head of the household, Ellen's mother, does indeed work, often evening and night shifts. She rations Ellen's cigarettes to two a day for financial reasons. The officer said the mother suggested that Ellen has a highly addictive character and would chain smoke them into financial ruin if she were allowed.
    I told the officer of the length of our history with Ellen (since 1998, I believe), some of the ins and outs, and about the story the entire experience prompted me to write. We were both jovial over the entire experience. The officer, much to my relief after years of ineffective measures, took last night's incident much more seriously than I expected, especially when I told him about having car batteries drained on nights when I'd forget to lock a stray door, she'd discover it, prowl through the car for cigarettes and leave the car door slightly ajar to avoid making noise (which she clearly did not attempt to avoid last night).
    At any rate, The Saga of Ellen continues but, at this point, to my amusement. Some things never change. I have visions of Ellen and her mother dying here, Ellen's daughter, about whom the officer said, "seems smart enough", leaving then coming back throughout her life at critical moments in her mother's and grandmother's lives.
    Hmmmm....

An Administrative Note

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Mon, 22 Sep 2003 17:00:00 +0000

As of this moment Mom has not yet arisen, despite the full retraction of her window shades and one hazy bathroom visit around 0800. As I publish this I'll be awakening her to start our day. We've got a few things to do that involve movement and I'm going to see about getting her to bathe. Should be a busy day.

Check out today's blood glucose numbers...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Mon, 22 Sep 2003 05:26:00 +0000

...at Ain't She 2 Sweet - 2003. I think I'm finally getting the hang of moderating my mother's blood sugar. I'm feeling pretty good about the at-the-moment decisions I made about medication versus food intake versus what of both I could and couldn't realistically moderate. It all seemed to work. It looks as though yesterday worked, too. Now, if my developing skills work well for me tomorrow I'll feel as though I'm beginning to understand Adult Onset When Elderly Type 2 Diabetes.
I have a few other modulation tricks, one of which I'm using tomorrow morning. In this house I can moderate the amount of light coming directly in her window with the sunrise. On mornings when I feel as though sleeping in would do her no harm the shade hangs lower the previous evening. When I need her to get up 'of her own accord' earlier, the shade is raised a bit. Days always go better when they begin 'of her own accord', so anything that nudges the process is welcome.

Flaking off yesterday apparently did no harm.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Mon, 22 Sep 2003 01:51:00 +0000

    I'm pleased, too, that it turned out well because I learned some minute lessons about managing blood sugar and b.s. meds (pun unintended but appropriate) on the fly. I was able to apply those lessons today.
    Because her readings were bit higher than normal today, and I knew there was a likelihood that she'd be consuming refined sugar this afternoon, I started her off with a light breakfast of cottage cheese, toast, orange juice, 500 mg metformin, a Detrol and one iron pill (she seemed a bit peaked). Company arrived soon after and she drank water and smoked and watched us put together and raise the unusually complicated shade umbrella in the back. Most of her day was spent sitting and visiting. When groups of us went on property surveys she remained in the domesticated part of the yard. I made sure that she got sick and tired of me reminding her to drink water.
    She measured in normal at lunch and grabbed for a root beer with sugar, as well as a hearty deli lunch with beans, potato salad and a meat and cheese sandwich, so I gave her 1000 mg metformin. If she comes in low normal tonight I'll hold off the metformin and see how she measures in the morning.
    She loved having company and observed (which both of us have noticed many times) how it is that we get more company here than in Mesa. She additionally observed that this house seems to "like company" more than the house in Mesa (I would have to agree with her); "It's inviting in a way that house in Mt. Vernon [Iowa],"
    "Uh, that's Mesa, Mom..."
    "Oh, that's right...in Mesa, what was I saying? Oh, yes, that house in Mesa isn't very inviting. Not like this one."
    "Yes. I know." That's all I said. I don't want to agitate her. She's already testing the waters surrounding getting rid of the Mesa house and moving up here permanently. I'll just let her sit with this for awhile.
    It is true, we do have company planned through the next several weekends. One weekend will probably be pretty hearty, too.
    She's napping, now, with oxygen, but she's "warned" me to let her sleep no later than 1930, 2000 "at the latest." She was quite stiff today (no wonder, considering how much of the last two days she's spent in bed) so I gave her two ibuprofen before she laid down and, amazingly, she took them, so I know she was feeling uncomfortably stiff. She should feel much better at 1930, 2200 "at the latest".

I will, today, be taking numbers.

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sun, 21 Sep 2003 15:19:00 +0000

    Company is coming, as well, so I may not post them until much later. I'm feeling better, am not overwhelmed that I did not prepare for the company.
    Mom's been up once and went immediately back to bed. She looked good, said she felt, "...O.K., neither good nor bad." We can live with that. She is looking forward to company. So am I. I don't care how the house looks. This is company that not only won't care, they may find the mess intriguing.
    I have no idea what to expect from Mom's numbers today but I'm not worried enough to monitor what she eats, either. I think she'll be fine. I think we both needed a true day of rest from monitoring.

No glucose testing, no med reports (well, maybe one)...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sun, 21 Sep 2003 05:45:00 +0000

...and very nearly no journal entry.
    I awoke this morning feeling, well, not good; a combination of physical and emotional not good. I noticed yesterday what I thought was an ear infection. It was some sort of an abscess in my ear that apparently burst last night. That might have led to my extreme lethargy today. Something else was still hitting Mom, I don't know what but I didn't have the energy to battle it. She spent most of the day in bed. I went back to bed after an early, hard morning and decided not to bother with our regular routine except to make sure Mom remained fairly well hydrated and internally bathed in oxygen.
    Since she didn't eat this morning, she refused although she looked good and drank water and coffee, I didn't give her any diabetic medication or anything else. She was up for less than an hour. I went back to bed, fell asleep in a tight fetal position (which is almost unheard of for me) after having only early coffee, which did nothing to enliven me, and re-awoke about 1330 still inordinately sad and physically low but unable to sleep anymore. Mom awoke soon after...I knew she was going to, she had begun to cough...she always coughs just before she awakens.
    So, little by little, as we played best 3 out of 5 Sorry and a very interesting game of Scrabble, she ate and drank: Orange juice, popcorn, V-8 juice (all these preceded by a glipizide). Later in the evening I made us bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches, gave her 1000 mg metformin and coaxed her to drink water all evening, topping everything off with a Detrol before she went to bed at 2200.
    This afternoon and evening I revived some, noticed that my ear no longer hurt and that it had been draining and installed a paper towel rack below a kitchen cabinet and cup hooks on the upper shelf of our entertainment center, which was recently christened a dining room hutch.
    Oddly, none of my sadness was about my situation here with my mother. At first it was amorphous, so it was probably catalyzed by the ear infection; then, it was a general tiredness, both physical and emotional, even as I revived. At any rate, I'm lucky that my "situation here with my mother" allows for an occasional day when neither she nor I can hack the medical routine anymore and we both give in to, well, whatever we gave in to today.

I'm still sort of wandering over here...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sat, 20 Sep 2003 05:43:00 +0000

...so bear with me as I halt into starting.
    Although Mom awoke at a decent time of her own accord and looked peachy warming her back in the sun at the dining room table (our dining room is more like a large breakfast nook), I got the distinct impression that she was going to beg off our plans, which would entail a fairly busy day today. I can't tell you what my indicator was but I knew that she actually wanted to spend a fair amount of time in bed today.
    I did what I thought was heading her off at the pass. I announced that if she didn't want to go on the short, piddly errands I'd let her stay home through those but going to Costco and the grocery would be invigorating for her, we'd take the oxygen, blah, blah, blah...she's heard it all before and sometimes it's worked. She wasn't having any of it this morning but since I promised her extra bed time after breakfast (more or less, she stayed up for 2 hours after breakfast), she agreed to a long, oxygenated trip, later.
    Between the time Mom finished breakfast and I left alone for what turned out to be all the errands, A[dear]PF and I chatted on the phone a couple of times. She is always interested in how my mother is so I told her that I was trying to rev her up for a decently active afternoon but I could feel her physical resistance to anything but a day of sleep and she'd already had more than a few laconic days. My friend cut in and told me about one of her friends, a year or so over 90, who always complains that it takes her a month to acclimate to Prescott no matter how long she's been gone. During that month she spends "sometimes whole days and nights" sleeping.
    I rethought today's strategy. If she was going to be sleeping and I couldn't get her to do anything else and, one way or another, would give in to her, at least I could see to it that she was bathing herself in oxygen throughout the entire day. That should give her a fine start on tomorrow.
    When I left early in the afternoon Mom had been in bed for 30 minutes or so. I had told her I'd be back after the few short errands to see if she wanted to go to the grocery with me. Although she acknowledged what I'd said, her eyes had begun to roll blissfully back into her head. I replayed the scenario as I drove from errand to errand and finally decided to give her a treat and let her sleep. I knew I'd have to control for dehydration tonight and that wouldn't be fun for her, but I could feel, this morning, her need for sleep and after my discussions with A[dear]PF, I decided a day of morphic luxury for Mom was all right.
    She has been mentioning, as well, lately, that she wanted something sweet. I've been pretty good at gently dissuading her, since her blood glucose has been spiking without the benefit of refined sugar, thank you. But today I decided to get her some cheesecake and spring it on her if her blood sugar wasn't too far out of whack this evening, considering that she wouldn't have the benefit of 500 mg metformin in the afternoon. I needn't have worried. Her blood sugar was 71. So I gave her a second 500 mg metformin at dinner and a third two hours later during dessert. I expect her to read good in the morning. Although she'll be slow to move I think we'll manage to get out on our "adventure", the one we put off doing today.

A member of the book club told me, last night...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Sat, 20 Sep 2003 05:37:00 +0000

...that her mother, this last year, made a significant and unexpected recovery to former competence at 91. She said that around December of last year her family thought, "this is it," then her mother not only made a spectacular recovery (from what, no one is sure) but has been raised from assisted living at her living facility to independent living.
    I'm glad she told me this. I'm always pleased to hear when Ancient Ones get second winds. No one expects them to, but they do anyway. I don't think my mother will every qualify, again, for any kind of "independent living"; she's 'made the decision' (and, I believe it was a decision, and it was not a bad decision) that she does not want to deal with a lot of life stuff anymore, including paying bills, etc. That's okay with me. I can do all that and, in some ways, I've learned things I'd never have learned otherwise.
    Of course I don't know exactly the definition of "independent living" at a facility for the elderly and infirm. So, I don't know, maybe it's something Mom would be able to do.
    At any rate, this situation, me with her, seems to be working. I'm glad. This way all of us in the family have a reliable, detailed, worry free source of information on my mother. If I was unable to do this for my mother I would wish I had a sibling who could.
    Tomorrow we are going on what both my oldest sister and my mother independently referred to as an "adventure". Mom and I are going to check out at least one hotel for MCS/BIL, maybe more. I mentioned to MCS, when she referred to the reconnaissance mission as an "adventure" that I actually enjoyed the adventurous sense that surrounds life when you're living it closely with an Ancient One. She confirmed that she is also experiencing this with her grandchildren, for whom she cares three days a week. Lately, flowers, she said, have been an adventure. I agreed that flowers have wonderful adventure possibilities for both New Ones and Ancient Ones.
    "Yes," she said, "[Her grandson] pulls the petals off and hands me what's left. [Her granddaughter] eats them and hands me what's left."
    Somehow, I identify with this, living here with Mom.

I think it will be an at home day...

noreply@blogger.com (gail rae) — Fri, 19 Sep 2003 19:30:00 +0000

...although previously I thought it would be a 'going to Mesa to partially close the house down there' day. I believe Mom when she says she's physically tired, although her later blood sugar readings will tell whether it's her body that's taking some much deserved rest or her mind. Her blood sugar usually remains in control if her body is resting. If her mind is junking out her blood sugar goes up. I think it's okay for the latter to sometimes happen.
    This morning she remembered last night's book club meeting. She remarked several times after we arrived home how much she enjoyed it. This morning it was the first thing on her mind.
    I'll probably be spending much time on the internet tweaking the site. I'm beefing up the Essays section, little by little, in both quantity and quality (and eye candy).
    I'm sure I'll have more to say...
    ...later.