"Just give me a minute."
    Yesterday I realized how often my mother says this at the facility and how rarely she has said it at home. That's another reason why I am looking forward to having her home: We can return to her schedule, which always requires "a minute" here and "a minute" there, rather than the schedules of others who don't have minutes to spare.
    Yesterday was a wonderful day for me, and, I daresay for MPNP, as well. Work proceeded so well we built two portable ramps: One for the living room and one for the steps leading down from the door to the driveway. I am especially pleased about the latter ramp. This will allow us to spend more time outside surveying the nature of our yard. Visiting with MPNP was a highlight. What a guy he is. What an easy relationship we have.
    My mother had a pretty foggy day, though I doubt she was aware of it. At one point, when I checked in on her at dinner time, she was sitting at her beloved window. I asked her how her day had gone and she told me it was "quiet" and that she'd spent the afternoon "watching TV", which is how she referred to studying the view from her window. I asked her if she enjoyed "the programs" and she said, "Oh, yes. I haven't been able to watch as much TV here as I do at home." So, she knows she's not at home and, I think, is looking forward to returning.
    Her care was adequate by facility standards. It's a good thing I showed up at dinner time, though, as she was about to leak through her briefs into her clothes. She was also fairly well dehydrated, but we'll address that today. When I warned the Day Floor Nurse (a "new" one for that floor) in the morning before I left that if she wasn't monitored she would not drink what was placed in front of her, he responded, "We can always administer fluids intravenously."
    "If she's well monitored," I responded, "that shouldn't be necessary." I knew, though, I was talking into the corporate wind that blows through the facility as I said this. I also knew that she probably wouldn't be monitored well enough to even notice if she needed intravenous fluids.
    Everyone, to a person, who was responsible for my mother's care, yesterday, was well informed that I wouldn't be there much that day and why. Everyone was also informed that everyone else had been informed. This seemed to prevent huge problems. I hope. I guess I'll find out, today. I've noticed that since I set a date for discharge people's eyes, including the eyes of her therapists, tend to glaze over when I talk to them. I've been surprised at this reaction, so I know I'm not imagining it. It's almost as though she's already left.
    The equipment from the Med Supply company will be delivered sometime today. The wheelchair has been knocked off the list, as one can't be found in this area that will fit through our bathroom door, has large back wheels and has a seat low enough to comfortably accommodate my mother; even a little lower than the seat on the chair we own. There are such chairs: I've encountered them and measured them, but they are "special order", so we need to secure one ourselves. I'll be working on this but we'll be re-embarking on our journey with our usual chair. We've managed with it before. I think we'll be okay with it until I can locate something better suited to Mom's present needs.
    I still have a bit of cleaning to do, although I was able to accomplish some of it yesterday. I'm not going to worry about what I can't do. As usual, being with Mom trumps preparing for our first few Hospice visits.
    I'm running a little late. Time to shower, pack up and head out.
    Later.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 06:42   email  this post