Thursday, March 11, 2004
It's been a sleep day. For all of us. Even me.
This is the first day I can remember in months that I've been able to nap. Because of our experience with last Friday's Mesa appointments followed by Mom spending the day in bed, I didn't freak today when she slept in then went back down for a nap at 1400, then decided, after arising at 1800, to go back to bed 1t 2230. I didn't try to stop her, just gave her a good rub down to relax her.
The surprise was that I was able to nap. Napping is difficult for me even when I'm exhausted. I rarely sleep and am usually up within a half hour at most after I attempt to take a nap. Today though, hallelujah, I slept for four hours. When I awoke I was sprawled on my back all over my futon. This is a sign that I'd completely relaxed. I discovered I'd slept through a phone call (one of our phones, the one set to ring like a siren, is just above the head of my futon) and the door bell. I'm still lagging a bit and looking forward to some sleep tonight but I'm staying awake to finish the laundry, something I normally do in the afternoon.
We have company coming this weekend, people we love and who love us. Tomorrow we'll spend the day shopping for food. Mom expressed a great deal of interest in going along, making selections. Slowly but surely she's "up", more often now for short trips of all kinds even when they exhaust her. Yesterday, as we were running errands in The Valley and going to the doctor (and she was refusing to use the wheel chair as a walker or even ride in it until we stopped at the Costco there to pick up a couple of things that the one up here doesn't regularly carry), I noticed that she's straightening more when she walks. Very gratifying to notice.
Our trip to the doctor was successful, too. All the people at her Mesa PCP's office make over her in a way that always makes her feel better even when she's not feeling good. Yesterday she felt so good that the fawning turned her head. I'm glad it did. I love exposing my mother to people who care about her and enjoy her.
Her PCP did something yesterday that I was pleased to witness. Instead of talking to me he talked to her. When he went over the lab results he leaned toward her, put the results in her line of vision and pointed out and explained all the significant indicators. I moved behind her chair and silently absorbed the process. Non-alternative health care providers tend to focus on me when she's in their offices, in part because she can't hear well and in part because it becomes quickly obvious that I manage her health care and that's what I should be doing. It always irritates me, though, that this tends to happen, as I hear quite well, I don't need to have a speaker facing me and she is the patient, not me. If I have a concern I speak up but, for the most part, I prefer the attention, in a health care provider's company, to be on her. At times, when asked about some aspect of her health for which my mother can speak and should be heard, I've had to ask the provider to redirect the question to my mother. This hasn't happened with this PCP but he and I have, in the past, accidentally fallen into dialogue as though my mother isn't present and it frustrates me both on my own behalf for allowing myself to participate and on my mother's behalf for having to endure her being treated like a third party when she's actually the first party. I'm so pleased that her Mesa PCP is leaning in toward her now. Although I know a great deal more about her body and her health than she can often express, I'm not her and there is much that my mother can communicate with and without words to the attentive physician that I would never be able to relay and numbers on paper can't express.
While I have some time and have to stay up to monitor the washer and dryer loads (every day our laundry includes at least one down comforter, often a feather pillow, always one set of sheets, sometimes a second load with another set of sheets, sometimes yet another comforter and pillow and several items of clothing, as well as at least six towels and four wash cloths per day), I'll input as much of the lab results as I can. The only result that is a bit curious is her extremely low blood glucose. I tend to think that this is either a misprint or a botched result. Although she was enduring a six hour fast without water that day due to the impending ultrasound, she'd had a healthy, ultrasound-regulation breakfast at 0630 and I went light on her metformin since the directions for what she could eat eliminated refined carbohydrates. As well, as her physician pointed out, such a low blood sugar is typically accompanied by lethargy and can easily trigger unconsciousness. That day my mother was raring to go all day long even after a few of the vacu-tubes used to collect her blood malfunctioned and quite a bit more blood had to be extracted than intended. We didn't eat until 1600. When we emerged from the car in the parking lot of the a steak house, at the whiff of grilling beef she literally charged ahead of me toward the door.
I'll check back before retiring to report my progress on entering the test results.
Later.
The surprise was that I was able to nap. Napping is difficult for me even when I'm exhausted. I rarely sleep and am usually up within a half hour at most after I attempt to take a nap. Today though, hallelujah, I slept for four hours. When I awoke I was sprawled on my back all over my futon. This is a sign that I'd completely relaxed. I discovered I'd slept through a phone call (one of our phones, the one set to ring like a siren, is just above the head of my futon) and the door bell. I'm still lagging a bit and looking forward to some sleep tonight but I'm staying awake to finish the laundry, something I normally do in the afternoon.
We have company coming this weekend, people we love and who love us. Tomorrow we'll spend the day shopping for food. Mom expressed a great deal of interest in going along, making selections. Slowly but surely she's "up", more often now for short trips of all kinds even when they exhaust her. Yesterday, as we were running errands in The Valley and going to the doctor (and she was refusing to use the wheel chair as a walker or even ride in it until we stopped at the Costco there to pick up a couple of things that the one up here doesn't regularly carry), I noticed that she's straightening more when she walks. Very gratifying to notice.
Our trip to the doctor was successful, too. All the people at her Mesa PCP's office make over her in a way that always makes her feel better even when she's not feeling good. Yesterday she felt so good that the fawning turned her head. I'm glad it did. I love exposing my mother to people who care about her and enjoy her.
Her PCP did something yesterday that I was pleased to witness. Instead of talking to me he talked to her. When he went over the lab results he leaned toward her, put the results in her line of vision and pointed out and explained all the significant indicators. I moved behind her chair and silently absorbed the process. Non-alternative health care providers tend to focus on me when she's in their offices, in part because she can't hear well and in part because it becomes quickly obvious that I manage her health care and that's what I should be doing. It always irritates me, though, that this tends to happen, as I hear quite well, I don't need to have a speaker facing me and she is the patient, not me. If I have a concern I speak up but, for the most part, I prefer the attention, in a health care provider's company, to be on her. At times, when asked about some aspect of her health for which my mother can speak and should be heard, I've had to ask the provider to redirect the question to my mother. This hasn't happened with this PCP but he and I have, in the past, accidentally fallen into dialogue as though my mother isn't present and it frustrates me both on my own behalf for allowing myself to participate and on my mother's behalf for having to endure her being treated like a third party when she's actually the first party. I'm so pleased that her Mesa PCP is leaning in toward her now. Although I know a great deal more about her body and her health than she can often express, I'm not her and there is much that my mother can communicate with and without words to the attentive physician that I would never be able to relay and numbers on paper can't express.
While I have some time and have to stay up to monitor the washer and dryer loads (every day our laundry includes at least one down comforter, often a feather pillow, always one set of sheets, sometimes a second load with another set of sheets, sometimes yet another comforter and pillow and several items of clothing, as well as at least six towels and four wash cloths per day), I'll input as much of the lab results as I can. The only result that is a bit curious is her extremely low blood glucose. I tend to think that this is either a misprint or a botched result. Although she was enduring a six hour fast without water that day due to the impending ultrasound, she'd had a healthy, ultrasound-regulation breakfast at 0630 and I went light on her metformin since the directions for what she could eat eliminated refined carbohydrates. As well, as her physician pointed out, such a low blood sugar is typically accompanied by lethargy and can easily trigger unconsciousness. That day my mother was raring to go all day long even after a few of the vacu-tubes used to collect her blood malfunctioned and quite a bit more blood had to be extracted than intended. We didn't eat until 1600. When we emerged from the car in the parking lot of the a steak house, at the whiff of grilling beef she literally charged ahead of me toward the door.
I'll check back before retiring to report my progress on entering the test results.
Later.
