Highest Compliment

Tonight my mom was cleaning out her basket and gave me this sticker.



And then she said, "You should have this. You make the tastiest food of anyone I know. Except Panera."


Aww! That might be the nicest thing my mom has ever said to me.

Blame Shifting

Mom had a rough night. She stayed up late, until 9:45, watching the New Hampshire republican debate. She got up her usual amount of times in the night, every hour or two, to visit the bathroom, but then around 2:00 a.m., I didn't hear her walker shushing back to her room. She had headed out to the living room, where she read for an hour or so before going back to bed. Then Mom was up at 7:00, opening curtains, but went back to bed until 9:00. As you might expect after a night like that, she settled in the red chair by 10:00.

As I tidied the kitchen and Mom finished breakfast (which she made for her herself, thank you very much), she talked again about the evils of the .5mg of lorazepam hospice had provided to help her sleep. (She quit taking it Tuesday, I think.) She feels it brought on her current "crisis." Not cancer, not age, not deteriorating condition, not sleep-deprivation. That medicine is the devil. Alrighty then. No sense in trying to argue or answer back; there is no logic here.

Why God Sends 75 Degree Days in January

Can you see Mittens on the ground to the right of Mom's chair?

More of the Story

This morning my sister Gayle called. She had just spoken with Mom, and Mom had confessed that although she was up and dressed, she had no appetite and no energy. She had not eaten anything all morning and was just sitting in her chair. She told Gayle she thought it was time to start being honest with her children about how she was really doing.

Mom called while I was on the phone with Gayle and left me a message. I called her back and she told me she had no interest in food. No mention of the lack of energy. I guess the honesty phase was short-lived. I asked her if she wanted to have someone there and she said no, she felt comfortable being alone.

Shortly after noon, Mom called back to say she felt unsure about being alone. She asked if I could come. Of course, I can come! I was getting ready to tell her I would come after taking Meg to register for dual credit spring semester classes, when Mom wrapped up by saying she was sitting on her bed and she would stay there until I came. What? How did we get from "Everything's fine" to "I'll wait here in my bed until you come?"

I quickly jettisoned all previous plans and packed a bag. Meg texted Karis, and Karis texted me.

Karis: Gma's been up all day til now so that's weird...do you want me to go sit with her?

Gwen: Up to you. I don't think she's dying right this minute. I think she just used up the last little bit of strength and independence and is ready for me to be there again. She hasn't eaten so probably weak and light-headed too.

I talked with a friend on my way, and she went by Panera for some quarts of soup to bring by Mom's house. When I got to Mom's, she was sitting in the red chair. She had slept in bed, then moved out to her chair. My friend came with the soup, but Mom didn't want to eat. She did finally drink a cup of tomato juice around 2:30. I heard back from the hospice nurse at 3:00. She said it would be good to get Mom to drink some Ensure.

Right. As if.

I told Mom what the nurse said, and Mom replied, "I think I would rather try some potato soup from Panera." That's my mom! So she had 1/2 a cup. And loved it. Then at 6:00 she had 1/2 a cup more. (Yes, I'm measuring. I'm really not that anal-retentive. I just want to keep track of Mom's intake.)

After Mom ate some soup this afternoon, she started to feel better. Before, she had told me how glad she was I had come and that she had been anxious earlier. With me here,she said, she was relaxing. As she started feeling better, Mom began feeling foolish for calling me. She felt like it was a false alarm. I assured her that I was happy to come. Karis told her my bags were probably already packed, just waiting for her call. We laughed that as soon as Grandma hung up the phone, I was knocking on the door. But, I digress. I did suggest to Mom that maybe she was feeling better because she needed a little help, and now was getting a little help!

I asked Mom if she would let me stay until Gayle comes Sunday night. She agreed.

On a Dime

Mom just called. She woke this morning with no appetite. She feels so weak that she wants me to come. My sister Gayle will be here Sunday night. Of course, the story is longer than these few words, but they will suffice for now.

State of the Union

Tuesday morning, I stopped by Mom's. I had made a stupid mistake with her check writing Saturday night and needed to see what I could do to rectify the situation. It was Ev's first day back to school, and my first day back to work. I went over to the house midmorning and woke Mom from a nap in the recliner. She was very sleepy and very slow. Mom told me she had taken herself off the little pill that helps her sleep, because it "affected her balance." I asked her if she didn't think her balance was shaky before, but she didn't remember. The laundry room was filled with about a dozen bags full of bathroom trash and the accompanying scent. I took out the trash, fed the kitty, made a couple of phone calls about the checks, then went on my way with a heavy heart. I do not like this arrangement.

Mom told me she was ready to have her Christmas decorations taken down, so Wednesday morning Meg and I went over after dropping Ev at school and Nate at educational therapy. While Meg efficiently stowed away the holiday cheer, I asked Mom if she would mind if I did some cleaning. She replied, "I'm against it." Then she said I could. I went to work on her bathroom and tossed a load of towels in the wash. Meg and I both dusted. Mom went to nap in her bed. I did some kid shuffling, and came back with Nate. He blew off the drive, walk, and back patio, and I vacuumed inside. I'm so thankful Mom let us help.

While I was cleaning the bathroom, I saw Mom was down to her last roll of paper towels (which she uses as personal wipes) and her last box of pads (which she uses in lieu of adult diapers). I peeked in her fridge and saw it was pretty bare. I asked if we could get her anything, and she said no, because Karis would be home the next day and could take her to the bank. Now, I'm really trying to stay out of Mom's business and let her handle everyday life. But, really? Run out of food and supplies, imagining that a returning 18yo will take care of it? No.

So, after work and school, Ev and I went to Walmart and Sam's for food and supplies for Mom. And, happily, the gamble paid off. I felt much better knowing Mom had what she needed, and Mom was delighted to have food and supplies magically appear at her house. She called me a "wild woman."

I'll take that as a compliment.

Fallout

It seems that as we were kicking 2011 to the curb, it was kicking back. Not going gently, you might say.

As I marveled at our week between Christmas and New Year's Day that included, among the five of us here at home, one case of strep, three head colds, and one stomach bug, Dave reminded me how that often happens following periods of intense stress. You know, like completing a semester of doctoral studies, or finals, or tending to/separating from a dying loved one. You buck up, hold it together, do what you need to do, and then when the pressure is off, your body falls apart.

Oh, yeah. That.

Now I need to go make a little chicken noodle soup.