Thursday, June 24, 2004
[Relatively] early stats look to be in the offing, today.
In 14 minutes I'll be waking her. Not that we have an awful lot to do but we need to pick up her CBC results from the lab this afternoon. A trip to the grocery might be in order because yesterday's was truncated by a shitting accident and I forgot a couple of items.
I'm hoping that if I keep her used to movement and begin strutting up her waking hours little by little (which I'm not doing today), that her body will revive some and shitting accidents will again retreat to the past and the future.
Last night when I was feeling up to here with her lethargy (which may not be entirely her fault, the CBC results will tell) I literally threw up my hands and told her, "You know, it's entirely possible that you're bleeding internally. A lot. All I can tell you is that if your really low energy level continues, if I continue finding it extremely frustrating keeping you up, then, I don't know, maybe I oughta throw you to the doctors, let them scope you up and down, take pictures, open you up, try to get this thing addressed."
Mom looked startled. "No. I don't want that. I don't think I'm bleeding inside."
"Look, that's what I'm thinking, too, but if your energy doesn't revive, if the blood transfusion doesn't work, I can tell you, this level of observation and entertainment is so intense that I'm almost ready to let the doctors have at you."
For the rest of the evening her energy perked up. Previous to this her energy level was so low that, for instance, when I attempted to help her put on her shoes yesterday she expected me to pick up her foot, put it in the shoe and adjust the shoe to her. I laughed when she indicated this. "No way, lady. I injured myself once before handling your feet wrong. If you're capable of doing most of the shot-putting-on work, you're going to do it!"
She did.
Still and all, even with my curious holding back of late, trying to put off business and getting used to what I need to observe and calculate into my mother's care now, this is better than a nursing home. Better for her and better for me. I could, literally, drive myself crazy keeping after a nursing home to administer adequate care (i.e., no skin tears, attention to diet, attention to level of hydration, adequate mental and physical exercise). As it is, this situation is not driving me crazy, it's simply driving me to figure out how to incorporate yet another level of my mother's invalidity (hmmm...interesting root, interesting uses of it's extensions) into our routine and figure out how much of it I can expect for a long time and how much I can expect to be readily alleviated.
Later.
I'm hoping that if I keep her used to movement and begin strutting up her waking hours little by little (which I'm not doing today), that her body will revive some and shitting accidents will again retreat to the past and the future.
Last night when I was feeling up to here with her lethargy (which may not be entirely her fault, the CBC results will tell) I literally threw up my hands and told her, "You know, it's entirely possible that you're bleeding internally. A lot. All I can tell you is that if your really low energy level continues, if I continue finding it extremely frustrating keeping you up, then, I don't know, maybe I oughta throw you to the doctors, let them scope you up and down, take pictures, open you up, try to get this thing addressed."
Mom looked startled. "No. I don't want that. I don't think I'm bleeding inside."
"Look, that's what I'm thinking, too, but if your energy doesn't revive, if the blood transfusion doesn't work, I can tell you, this level of observation and entertainment is so intense that I'm almost ready to let the doctors have at you."
For the rest of the evening her energy perked up. Previous to this her energy level was so low that, for instance, when I attempted to help her put on her shoes yesterday she expected me to pick up her foot, put it in the shoe and adjust the shoe to her. I laughed when she indicated this. "No way, lady. I injured myself once before handling your feet wrong. If you're capable of doing most of the shot-putting-on work, you're going to do it!"
She did.
Still and all, even with my curious holding back of late, trying to put off business and getting used to what I need to observe and calculate into my mother's care now, this is better than a nursing home. Better for her and better for me. I could, literally, drive myself crazy keeping after a nursing home to administer adequate care (i.e., no skin tears, attention to diet, attention to level of hydration, adequate mental and physical exercise). As it is, this situation is not driving me crazy, it's simply driving me to figure out how to incorporate yet another level of my mother's invalidity (hmmm...interesting root, interesting uses of it's extensions) into our routine and figure out how much of it I can expect for a long time and how much I can expect to be readily alleviated.
Later.
