Today has been a hard-to-keep-up-with-Mom day.
    Well, make that yesterday. And, make that half a day, as it was really the latter half of her day that threw me off guard. This morning went well. I've been priming her for the Hospice RN's visit, as I usually do; I wasn't sure he was going to arrive today, even though Tuesday is his "regular day"...I hadn't heard from him and sometimes this means his schedule has changed or we're going to be visited by one of the delightful subs, all of who we enjoy, usually the day after our regular visit day. Since I hadn't heard, I decided I'd let her sleep up to her 12-hour-sleep-mark and, if I still hadn't heard, take a studied peak at her and decide, from there, whether to let her drowse a while longer. Our Hospice RN called at 1205, though, so I told him I'd awaken her at 1230 as I'd planned and she should be at the breakfast table by "one thirty or two, probably closer to two".
    As I awakened Mom I reminded her it was visit day. This accomplished a lot. Because she's been very slow and very tired for the past few days, getting her up has been an unusually protracted experience, lately. Today, though, she could easily have been crowned "Twinkle Butt", as she was whipped herself up to the edge of her bed with hardly any prompting from me.
    Still slow, still tired but full anticipation, our bathing routine went well. She was chattier than she has been in awhile. We improvised little song refrains as we worked through our bathroom routine. When our RN asked her how she felt she reported, as usual, that she felt "just fine", or something like that. She had no memory of her recent breathing problems, about which he asked her. I let her response stand as the PRN med list I give him every visit for the previous week told the actual story. The visit went well, Mom even had the presence of mind, for the first time, to tell our RN that she looked forward to seeing him next week, which blew me away. Mom's breakfast went well, she was even up for hoofing it around the table and down the dinette steps into the living room even though she'd opted for the wheelchair from the bathroom to the dinette. She decided she was ready for a nap much earlier than she has, lately, but I wasn't surprised. Excitement and visits can be exhausting for her and, besides, we've got a weather low working its way in so the day was overcast, which she mentioned after our RN left, so I know it was affecting her. I decided to give her a good four hours before I attempted to awaken her from her nap. That's when the trouble started.
    She was laying in bed with her eyes open. This is always an optimistic sign for me...I even say to her, "Ah, you were waiting for me to get you up!" Sometimes she beats me to the punch and says, "I was wondering when you were going to be coming in."
    Today, her response was, "No, I was wondering how long it would take me to get back to sleep," upon which she closed her eyes and snuggled further under the covers.
    As you know, I'm pretty easy about Sleep Days, Bedside Evenings, etc., so I didn't have a problem with this. I figured that, as usual, a quick reminder that, even if she wanted to go back to bed, she needed a change of underwear, some hydration and a few pills, maybe a piece of toast and some ginger tea...
    She wasn't having any. Not nothin'. She was so vigorous in her refusal, though, that I finally figured out that this was the detail about Sunday that made me decide to forgo a Bedside Evening and get her "all the way up". I guess she's still having bouts of spiritual healing in the form of spasmodic "Fuck you, I'm going to live forever and I can do whatever I goddamn well please" attitudes. So, I insisted, again, tonight, on getting her into the living room. Again, initially, she wasn't happy about it, although later she relented and mentioned that she was pleased she hadn't missed yet another Hallmark movie. She didn't look as good, tonight, as she did Sunday night: Her mouth and her lower eyelids were droopy and she seemed a little dazed. Could be "something" coming on, I considered, but still felt it had been a good idea to get her out of her bedroom for awhile.
    She refused the dinner I'd prepared, which was fine. We're good with leftovers. She ate a full bowl of Hot & Sour soup, though, and was clearly thirsty even though she'd informed me earlier, when I set a cup of coffee in front of her, that I could "take it away, I don't need it;" thus, quite a bit of my evening was devoted to me reminding her to "take a drink", which she did willingly, thank the gods. Sometimes she doesn't.
    She had some trouble with her breathing because she was refusing to blow her nose. I totally get her problem with nose blowing. The act of blowing out, with or without the cannula in her nose, makes her breathless. About half the time, when I know she needs to blow her nose, I let it go because I also know that the breathlessness this minor chore causes is going to overwhelm her. There comes a time, though, when it's necessary and it was tonight: Her breathing was so labored that she was working herself into an incredible pain episode, even through the 200 mg of ibuprofen for a minor lower back ache (and general purposes) I'd given her with her soup. Although nose blowing was difficult and, for a few moments, left her laboring for breath, a few moments after that she pinked up and breathed more easily. When I asked her if her back still hurt she gave me one of those, "What do you mean? My back wasn't hurting!" looks.
    Still and all she decided to head for bed early, which was also fine with me. She looked like she could use a looooong night. Her head hit the pillow at 2230. I told her, as she was closing her eyes, that I'd let her go at least until noon tomorrow, longer if it seemed appropriate, although it probably won't. I can hear her breathing through the sound monitor and it's been deep, regular and peaceful all evening. She's even snored, which is a good sign for her. It means she's completely relaxed, maybe even visiting The Dead Zone. Despite our weather promising to rain on her parade, tomorrow, she'll probably be in a much better mood. Unless, of course, "something" is coming on and "it" decides to hit tomorrow.
    Here's hoping. We could both do with a "Good Cancer Cycle Day", right now.

Miscellaneous Shit:

• I haven't updated The Dailies or Life After Death for today, although much of what I would have put there is above. After our evening, I didn't feel like fooling around with stats.
• HOWEVER: I did feel like doing a little web surfing and ran across a great journal written by a Hospice RN, Dethmama Chronicles: Informative, entertaining, spectacular looking, very readable. It's so interesting that I'm continuing to check back in order to read all the posts. She has a thing about cats, too, which is a delight for me. It's the second hospice journal I've run across and that I highly recommend, so I think it might be appropriate to start an "Honorable Hospice Blog" section over there to the right. Tomorrow, though, I think, or, today, rather, after sleep...remind me to tell you about plans for Thanksgiving...and Christmas...

    ...later.
- posted by Gail Rae @ 02:12   email  this post