Today I eased into a nap to the sound of my mother breathing.
    We received the "nursery" monitor, to which, I think, from this point on, I'll refer as the "nursing monitor", as my mother's bedroom is certainly far from a "nursery". Before we received it I worried, a little, about what it would be like to listen to my mother breathing. I was sure I'd hear it, since she breathes so loud and so quickly. I was concerned that it would create a less than restful sleep environment for me. I was exhausted, today, though, after the tight and demanding schedules of the last few days, and knew I'd need a nap. I was surprised to discover that although my mother's breathing is heavy, normally, and loud enough so that I can hear each breath through the monitor, it's also regular, rather than ragged or forced and, surprisingly, soothing. I was so delighted to discover that it is not at all disturbing to listen to her breathe that, just as I dozed off, I found myself thinking about how one of the methods of learning to meditate is to concentrate on one's own breath...so, I wondered, what class of meditation is involved in concentrating on someone else's breath?
    I also recalled, while settling down, using a technique I'd learned from drummer Mickey Hart on a PBS interview involving synchronizing one's heartbeat with that of someone who needs to be calmed, then soothing their heartbeat by consciously slowing your own down. This worked, once, when I tried it; it involved laying down with the person with my chest up against the person's back. I wondered if I could do something similar with my mother's breathing.
    Anyway, it's fascinating to listen to my mother on this transmitter. Tonight I listened to the sounds of her settling down into sleep. I noticed that she quietly clears her throat several times, then, suddenly, the clearing stops. I assume that this signals that she's "under".
    Speaking of breathing, the Hospice Nurse today recommended two things:

• An O(utpatient) T(herapy) C(onsult): Designed not so much to strengthen my mother, although if it appeared that this was worthy perhaps considering taking a stab at it, but, primarily, to evaluate her obvious weakening for suggestions, methods, "tricks", as the Hospice Social Worker mentioned, that would help us handle her physical weakening without becoming overwhelmed. I, of course, jumped at the chance.
• She (we had a "sub RN" today, one we've had before and with whom we work very well) also suggested a breathing exercise that might help my mother clear her lungs, better, and get her coughing when her strength for this seems to lag: Three times a day, have her take three deep breaths followed by three deep exhalations. We've done this once, today, and it did, indeed, get her to coughing. The nurse mentioned that she was hearing "crackling" in Mom's right lung, which indicates fluid. Doing something to stimulate coughing might help her clear her lungs, especially considering her obviously weakening state.

    She also brought a "chair scale" on which to weigh my mother, as I am not the only one who was questioning her loss of 20 pounds since having been released from the facility. Turns out, today, she weighed in at 147, rather than the 140 she registered on the standing scale. This seems more likely. I'm sure she's lost weight, but I was also fairly sure she hadn't lost 20 pounds. The nurse also noted that at least a few pounds of that was probably water weight from the edema she's experiencing at the moment, but that she strongly doubted that 7 lbs of it was water weight.
    Abrupt end, tonight. I'm pretty wasted, even with the nap. And, I should get up early tomorrow, in case the Construction Guy calls to let me know he can install the cross grab bar tomorrow instead of Friday. When he left this morning he still wasn't sure if the bar which is being specially made, would be ready.
    Oh, I should mention, the non-emergent paramedics were called, again, this morning. You can read about it here.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 00:36   email  this post