The surprise of the day...
...is that my mother took the news of the upcoming short term intensive rehab session with not only acceptance but something bordering on pleasure. Without reservation, she agreed that she "could use some help" regaining her "sea legs". During the conversation she asked why it had been canceled in the first place. I explained that when the diagnosis of lung cancer qualified her for hospice, hospice took over so quickly that I was blindsided and didn't realize that this would take away the rehab.
    "Lung cancer?" she asked.
    So, I explained that part again. She wasn't shocked. She shrugged her shoulders, lifted her hands palms up and smiled.
    I'm not sure she really gets it. I feel that we still need to have the conversation about her not being treated and why I chose this route. Something tells me, though, that she would agree with my decision, either because it makes sense to her or because she trusts me.
    As the conversation continued about rehab therapy, when it was likely to begin and how long it would last, I noticed that, beneath our conversation, I was feeling suddenly lighter about how the rest of her life is likely to progress, possible physical difficulties and debilities she would experience, how she would endure these. I was surprised, because I didn't think I'd been feeling heavy about all this, but I guess I had been. I'm sure that there will be much that we'll be going through that will be hard on both of us. But, you know, I'm finding that I'm not inclined to second guess. I'm thinking, within the next few weeks, I'll find that book, How We Die, that I bought so long ago and look up the facts, just so I have a yardstick. And, I've found myself trying to recall where I put that book with the word "Final" in the title that I bought at the same time. However, if I never get around to doing either, I think we'll be okay. We've been through frightening, oblique stuff before. We can do it again. Of course, at the end of this we'll be parting ways, but, you know, that's what happens when you've been conceived into this world. We'll just do it. Nothing else to do.

    I want to write a few words about something that caught my mind earlier this evening. I was rummaging through the hectic events of the last week and few days and realized that, among all the people with whom I've dealt, all the people who have been the real movers and shakers, with the exception of three out of twelve, the ones who have either accomplished what seemed impossible on our behalf, ushered me to a level of understanding that brought more important clarity to everything, the ones who have pulled rabbits out of hats or helped me do this, have been women deep into middle age, women in my age group. This is not to say that we haven't had some excellent help from others, but the real miracle workers have mostly been these women. Of the three who weren't, two were men who are probably in their mid-thirties, both physicians, and one is a woman in her mid-twenties. Of those, the two men had to be catalyzed into action by a middle-aged woman who would not be ignored. The woman in her mid-twenties, the Hospice Intake Nurse, did not. Frankly, I find myself hoping I am witness to the woman in her mid-twenties when she hits her mid-fifties and beyond. I can't even imagine what sort of legendary feats she's going to be performing, but I'd love to be in her audience. As I realized this, I caught myself smiling. It figures, you know. You have to be willing to stop thinking of yourself chiefly in terms of how the world might see you so you can get out of your own way and motivate others to act on behalf of what you believe needs to be done. You also have to be able to quickly and easily rally all your strengths and weaknesses without rehearsal. Middle aged women, probably because they are either leaving or past the mating game, are preprogrammed for this. Of course, not all middle-aged women are comfortable enough with themselves to do this but, baby, you'd better make way for the many who are. Middle-aged women, I think, also aren't any longer concerned with whether anyone notices and lauds their effort or, for that matter, criticizes them in an attempt to stop them. If such happens, well, that's nice, thank you very much, or, perhaps I was a bit thoughtless, I'll reevaluate and polish if necessary but, excuse me, my cell phone's ringing and I've got another iron in the fire...

    I should be in bed. I gave myself plenty of time to get a good sleep but couldn't stop thinking so decided to see how my Mac was doing (the repair place was closed today). It seems to have healed itself, although over this three day weekend I'll refresh my last back-up then stop by on Tuesday, run the vanished problem by the experts and see what they think it was and if it might recur.
    In the meantime, I've got a somewhat earlier wake-up in the morning. The weekend schedule at the care home runs a bit earlier because the staff is lighter so I'm readjusting my visits so Mom and I can relax with each other. Aside from the rehab discussion mentioned above, a few other noteworthy things occurred that I want to record, but, finally, my eyelids are drooping, so those will have to wait until...
    ...later.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 01:29   email  this post