Benjamin Button

I came to my mom's house expecting to care for a teenager: sometimes sweet, sometimes sassy, needing help, struggling for independence. I brought books to read, work clothes (planning to see students), library books to return, a package to mail at the p.o., and almost brought a project to work on.

When I arrived, I discovered a grade schooler. Mom was so happy to have me with her. She even told me she had peace, just knowing I was here. She was very tired and unsteady, even dizzy. Mom went to bed at 8:00, then got up every two hours throughout the night. She would go to the bathroom, we would sit on the couch in the den, then she would go back to bed.

Monday morning dawned and Mom stayed in bed until 9:30. She made it to the couch, wanted eggs and bacon for breakfast, but we were out. She settled for fresh-squeezed grapefruit and orange juice. Nurse Christy arrived, saw Mom's deteriorated condition, and ordered a hospital bed, oxygen, and personal care aide, all of which Mom agreed to. She also told Mom to stop taking morphine except when she had difficulty breathing. By the time Christy finished examining Mom, Mom's eyes were closing and she was nodding. She went back to bed and didn't get up again except to move across the hall to her hospital bed when it arrived. And that's when I realized I was caring for a baby.

Mom felt she had not had bowel function in a week (I am skeptical), so Christy was appropriately alarmed and proactive. Her measures were effective and the amazing, voluminous, uncontrollable results were evident all evening and into the night. Poor Mom. I can say with certainty that the changing is worse for her than it is for me. She is mortified and disgusted and helps me along during the clean-up process by saying things like, "I can't smell anything, but the stench must be awful." And, "I hope you don't vomit." And, "I pray that I die soon so you don't have to keep doing this."

As the excess waste was making its way out of Mom's body, I think the excess morphine was as well. She went on a bit of a phone rampage, calling up folks and telling them what was on her mind. At one point, when Mom asked me to dial up another number, I cautioned her that it was 10:24pm. "Are you sure you want to call at this hour?" Yes. So I dialed and left the room, but could still hear because Mom's hearing is so bad now that she has the receiver volume at maximum, plus she herself speaks loudly (to compensate?). Oy vey.

Mom wound down around 1am and slept through the night until 9:00 this morning. The personal aide came to shower her, which was wonderful. She is the same aide who took care of Dad, and Mom and Dad both loved her. Mom had brunch, then a nap, then hiked out to the couch. The timing was terrific. She was able to receive the small parade of visitors who came to pay homage, and brought things like dinner, lunch, supplies, and firewood.

Mom is back in bed for an afternoon nap now. Who knows what kind of Curious Case we'll find when she wakes up?