Incommunicado

This morning, as always, my alarm woke me at 7:00. I went to the kitchen, as always, to make the coffee. While the french press worked its magic for five minutes, as always, I opened the curtains and the front door to make ready Mom's spot by the window. When the timer beeped, as always, I poured Mom her half cup of coffee and took it, covered with a saucer to retain the near-boiling heat, to her room. As I set Mom's favorite cup on her bedside table, as always, she greeted me with a surprised, "Gwen!"

This morning, I laughed and asked, "Why are you surprised to see me each morning?" She responded, "I want a diaper change!" Which doesn't really answer my question, but on we go. I discovered the reason Mom was so eager for a change was a soaking wet diaper from a leaking catheter. Poor Mom! I told her I wished she had rung her bell for me, that I had just been making coffee and opening curtains and could have come much sooner. She demurred, saying she knew I was the mother of four and had all of them up and was busy getting them ready to go. I pointed out that Ev was the only child up and reminded Mom that she dresses herself, gets her own breakfast, and makes her own lunch. I don't know if I convinced her.

Mom commented that the cardinals started visiting the bird feeder Loren hung outside her window at 6:30. I asked Mom how long she had been awake. She said she thought she had woken up at 6:30. It makes me sad that she had to lay there in a soaked diaper for an hour. It handicaps me in the role of caregiver when Mom won't ask for what she needs. And I don't know how to get it across that we all understand we are here in this house for the sole purpose of caring for her, not for our own convenience or benefit.