The Mom & Me Journals dot Net
The definitive, eccentric journal of an unlikely caregiver, continued.
Apologia for these journals:
They are not about taking care of a relative with moderate to severe Alzheimer's/senile dementia.
For an explanation of what these journals are about, click the link above.
For internet sources that are about caring for relatives with moderate to severe
Alzheimer's/senile dementia, click through the Honorable Alzheimer's Blogs in my
links section to the right.
7 minute Audio Introduction to The Mom & Me Journals [a bit dated, at the moment]
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Want to mention...
...a few observations over the last few weeks, so that I have them recorded in case they are important in tracking any kind of decline, or, if they aren't indicative of decline, they'll be tracked for other reasons which I am yet to discover.
- For the last week or so I've noticed that my mother, more often than not, is making a low sound, like humming, when she breathes. She is a hummer so, of course, at first, I was asking her what she was humming. When she answered consistently that she wasn't humming, I figured it would be a good idea to note this, not only here, but with the Hospice RN last week. As it turned out, she breathed like this while he was there.
- For about three weeks I've noticed that when she lays down, sometimes even as she is preparing to lay down, she coughs a dry hack. It's not unnerving; I just wonder if it's because she lays on her left side, which contains the lung with the tumor, and perhaps she coughs briefly because, in the act of laying down, she is compressing that lung and the dry cough (which is always very short) is her body working to adjust to the compression.
- Odd leg pains, light to moderate, so far confined to the following areas:
- 1st Complaint: Thighs, about 3 inches above the knee;
- 2nd Complaint: General shin pain;
- 3rd Complaint (today): Upper thighs, just below hip joints; momentary.
Later.
All material, except that not written by me, copyright at time of posting by Gail Rae Hudson