Monday, March 22, 2004
Now I know why I've been so agitated for the past few days...
...finally, this afternoon, I could no longer ignore a fit of sneezing, a persistently runny nose and what felt like and was confirmed to be a fever. Once again, I couldn't keep from crashing into bed late this afternoon with some ibuprofen under my belt. I figured, from my track record, I'd sleep like the dead for an hour, maybe the fever would break and I'd be up and feeling fine before Mom was up from her first nap of the day. Instead, I slept like the condemned for I think three hours, phasing in and out of Night Terrorauma. I remember turning on a few lights before laying down, thinking that it would be about time to water the roses when I awoke and some lights should be on in case Mom awoke while I was outside. Around 2000 I awoke drenched, still exhausted, but so thirsty I had to get up. It was full dark. A light I hadn't turned on was shining down the hallway. I dashed out into the kitchen to see how Mom had dealt with hunger on her own. She was halfway through a 12 oz. bottle of half and half and a spoon coated with a syrupy substance lounged in front of a loosely lidded jar of cherry preserves. I wasn't too worried about either of these, nor about the fact that we'd have to forego glipizide. She needed something nourishing, though, and I needed to replace the half and half before tomorrow morning so I rounded her up a fast burger.
Being a sick caregiver is a bitch. I'm sure most of us caregivers would swear that we "never get sick". Actually, we never notice when we're sick until it gets so bad we have no choice. My mother is past the point of sympathizing with anyone anymore when they're sick. This is okay with me because my sick style involves holing up alone through the healing phase. This used to involve a day or so. I can't do this any longer but I seem to have made the adjustment to a few delirium drenched hours and then business as usual.
I did worry, today, going in and out of my "nap", how much harm I was doing my mother by not watching her closely. Since it has happened before when she and I have both been noticeably sick at the same time, I know that unless I have, say, broken my back, I can usually tend to her even when I'm sick. I consider it a luxury to be able to steal some hours in the middle of one of my mother's normal days to take myself to my sick bed.
After two days of rest and one day of eating anything she goddamn well pleased without the benefit of medication she is restless and she asked me this evening if I would be up to shopping tomorrow. I promised her I would. I believe it will not be hard to keep that promise.
She also reminded me that last night I had not rubbed her legs and feet. I was surprised she remembered so I know, now, her sleep over the last few days hasn't been the sleep of the over sugared, the demented or the bored. She was too tired to want to sit up for a leg rub last night and surprised me by insisting on going to bed early at 2035, I think. At any rate, I'm pleased to know that she is aware of this nightly simultaneously relaxing and invigorating ritual of pleasure and misses it even when she cancels it of her own accord.
She continues to notice without prompting the improvement in her back. She mentions improvement in her legs, too, which is good. I've noticed since her 2nd PT treatment that I do not have to remind her as much, when we sink bathe her in the morning, to "stand on your legs, not on your arms". Previous to PT she was primarily supporting herself with her arms when she stood for a long time. She still leans to the right, especially when she's tired (translated: Especially yesterday and today) but her body makes more of an effort to set her straight when she's not conscious of it. It reminds me of the explanation in the Feldenkrais book I read about how, in some cases, neuromuscular relearning takes places primarily or only by therapeutic manipulation and improvement shows up during first movements. This has certainly been the case with my mother.
Mom mentioned tonight that she'd "sure like to get rid of this carpet." I agree and immediately suggested tiling the entire house and using area rugs. She seemed enthusiastic. I wish I had foreseen, when insurance recarpeted this house after our water heater flood, that carpet would be entirely impractical for much of Mom's ancient years. It isn't just elimination accidents, although this plays a large part. She is no longer as deft at "walking and chewing gum" as she used to be. She will consistently drop food on the floor while eating and watching TV, something she loves to do. She notices this but often can't reach the crumbs and lets it go. There are the cigarette accidents, too, which I intend to eliminate in another manner. But tile or even sheeting linoleum would be better than carpet. Area rugs are much less expensive to clean and replace.
Her awareness level is rising so I think we'll be doing money business again soon. That's good. We need to.
Later.
Being a sick caregiver is a bitch. I'm sure most of us caregivers would swear that we "never get sick". Actually, we never notice when we're sick until it gets so bad we have no choice. My mother is past the point of sympathizing with anyone anymore when they're sick. This is okay with me because my sick style involves holing up alone through the healing phase. This used to involve a day or so. I can't do this any longer but I seem to have made the adjustment to a few delirium drenched hours and then business as usual.
I did worry, today, going in and out of my "nap", how much harm I was doing my mother by not watching her closely. Since it has happened before when she and I have both been noticeably sick at the same time, I know that unless I have, say, broken my back, I can usually tend to her even when I'm sick. I consider it a luxury to be able to steal some hours in the middle of one of my mother's normal days to take myself to my sick bed.
After two days of rest and one day of eating anything she goddamn well pleased without the benefit of medication she is restless and she asked me this evening if I would be up to shopping tomorrow. I promised her I would. I believe it will not be hard to keep that promise.
She also reminded me that last night I had not rubbed her legs and feet. I was surprised she remembered so I know, now, her sleep over the last few days hasn't been the sleep of the over sugared, the demented or the bored. She was too tired to want to sit up for a leg rub last night and surprised me by insisting on going to bed early at 2035, I think. At any rate, I'm pleased to know that she is aware of this nightly simultaneously relaxing and invigorating ritual of pleasure and misses it even when she cancels it of her own accord.
She continues to notice without prompting the improvement in her back. She mentions improvement in her legs, too, which is good. I've noticed since her 2nd PT treatment that I do not have to remind her as much, when we sink bathe her in the morning, to "stand on your legs, not on your arms". Previous to PT she was primarily supporting herself with her arms when she stood for a long time. She still leans to the right, especially when she's tired (translated: Especially yesterday and today) but her body makes more of an effort to set her straight when she's not conscious of it. It reminds me of the explanation in the Feldenkrais book I read about how, in some cases, neuromuscular relearning takes places primarily or only by therapeutic manipulation and improvement shows up during first movements. This has certainly been the case with my mother.
Mom mentioned tonight that she'd "sure like to get rid of this carpet." I agree and immediately suggested tiling the entire house and using area rugs. She seemed enthusiastic. I wish I had foreseen, when insurance recarpeted this house after our water heater flood, that carpet would be entirely impractical for much of Mom's ancient years. It isn't just elimination accidents, although this plays a large part. She is no longer as deft at "walking and chewing gum" as she used to be. She will consistently drop food on the floor while eating and watching TV, something she loves to do. She notices this but often can't reach the crumbs and lets it go. There are the cigarette accidents, too, which I intend to eliminate in another manner. But tile or even sheeting linoleum would be better than carpet. Area rugs are much less expensive to clean and replace.
Her awareness level is rising so I think we'll be doing money business again soon. That's good. We need to.
Later.
