May the gods of air and light,
inspire my mother's lungs tonight.
    Turns out likely that my mother has pneumonia and has probably had it for awhile, without cough or fever. This possible diagnosis is courtesy of a neurologist who was finally brought in on the case when Mom's condition continued to deteriorate, most notably today, the morning prior to the afternoon when she was scheduled to be transferred to a local "sniff" for short term intensive physical rehab. I realized, within an hour or so of arriving at the hospital this morning, that her condition was so bad, especially what appeared to be her dementia but also, notably, her physical weakness, that there was no way she would be able to participate in her own therapy. That's when I insisted (rather inelegantly, I must admit, including uncontrollable tears) that her diagnosis be revisited and the rehab visit be canceled for the time being. Thank the gods of healing that attention was paid to my morning observations and my concern.
    It's a long story, not yet complete, including such provocative tidbits as:

• The use of one of the podcasts I recorded with my mother to demonstrate my mother's mental orientation on Wednesday night when I took her to the ER;
• The use of one of her test results recorded on the internet to allow the neurologist to compare a head CT taken today with her history from another hospital;
• An episode of me loosing control that I desperately prayed to the gods of decorum to prevent but they wisely declined my plea;
• [related to the immediately previous bullet] An interesting confrontation over whether my demented mother was capable of making her own medical decisions over me making them (despite the fact that all my powers of attorney were in order and on file and she'd been evaluated as demented by the case worker that was assigned to us the first day she was in hospital).

    I'll elaborate on the above later. Suffice it to say, the diagnosis of pneumonia is still being tested, so she isn't yet on antibiotics but she has been receiving regular breathing treatments beginning today and began coughing fruitily this afternoon. She's wasted and spent most of today asleep, spiced with some vomiting and incontinent shitting. But, my hopes are high. She's fighting, that's obvious. Even the day nurse agreed. In the now famous concept from The Savages, her toes haven't yet curled under. Although I doubt the veracity of this observation, I couldn't help but check my mother's toes before I left this evening. They were holding up the sheet.
    Although it's been a rough, sickly couple of days for my mother and a rough, sleep deprived couple of days for me since Wednesday evening, tonight I'm relaxed and sure that I'll sleep well and deeply with my fingers crossed that she does, indeed, have pneumonia. I know, that sounds bizarre. What?!? Hoping a 90 years old, frail, chronically anemic woman with COPD/Emphysema has pneumonia?!? The thing is, pneumonia can be fixed, especially in those who have fight left. My mother has fight left. I know this because she fought being taken to the ER and is still fighting the possible rehab episode. And, besides that, I know my mother, and I'm not afraid of the possibility of her dying. She might as a result of this episode of ill health. But, I sense she's not yet ready to go, thus, I think, if she has her way and is supported by myself and at least a few of the professionals collaborating in her care, she and our kitties, whom she misses terribly and who miss her just as fervently, will soon be reunited and she and I will continue our journey, the one she is still convinced is blessed with immortality.
    But, of course, you never know. She might be closer to eternity than either of us think and we might both be surprised by an imminent separation.
    May the gods of air and light,
    inspire my mother's lungs tonight.
    To bed, to bed, to buy a white horse...
    Later.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 21:51   email  this post