Friday, December 3, 2004
Mom seems to be tolerating her cold...
...better than I am mine. Some of this probably has to do with the humidifier I placed in her room some days ago. I'm feeling exactly the way I felt yesterday morning and responding to ibuprofen in exactly the same way; my symptoms are masked for the day so, although I'd like to go back to bed, I don't feel the need to go back to bed.
I'm going to awaken Mom in a few minutes, slowly pushing her toward a reasonable morning. I've checked in on her a couple of times; she's breathing easily and deeply. I noticed from her eye movements at 1000 that she was dreaming so decided to give her another half hour...her dreams are always good reverie for her (which, I imagine, is something like good karma).
I've just about decided to completely ignore the rest of the holidays this year in exactly the same way I ignored Thanksgiving. I'm too damned tired to switch into warp drive and shuffle Mom around at relatives' pleasure. Since I'm looking forward to the possibilities with dread, it seems the easiest way to get rid of the dread is to confine the holidays to our house and ignore what everyone else would like. A weekly caregiver newsletter I receive yakked on and on about "making the holidays easier" by scouting out possibilities for temporary care of one's loved one to free the caregiver up for holiday preparation. Sounds too damned complicated and busy to me. Just what I need: Worrying about the quality of subs, spending at least an hour before and after working Mom up then working her down; frantically doing "holiday chores", trying to smash them into the smallest amount of time so that "my loved one" doesn't spend too much time in the company of equally frenzied subs, planning, planning, planning...I'm tired. No way I'm going to rev myself up for that kind of "ease".
So, I'm just going to let the rest of the holidays descend on us this year. Maybe we'll do some activities, visit the Gingerbread House exhibit, for instance; we might also do a couple of car tours of the lights around Prescott, which are amazing, encased in their homey mountain niche as they are. Whatever happens, happens. I'm sure I'll do a modified holiday dinner. I'll think of something besides ham or turkey, make sure it's absolutely delicious, maybe even make a pie from scratch now that I know I can do this and that Sara Lee's pie making skills leave something to be desired (like raspberries, for instance). I might even make an apple pie (fruits of the season), which I usually don't like. The idea, though, of Mom lighting up at a truly lip smacking apple confection gives me some pleasure. I'm not dashing around this year, though, on behalf of displaying Mom to those who'd like to see her. If anyone comes here, well, they'll need to be forewarned, I'm not fooling around with any extra preparations or niceties. They can come, they can go, whatever, we'll be glad to see them, but I'm not working us up over to-or-from visits this year. It's been a hard year. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Time to awaken the sleeping Ancient beauty.
Later.
I'm going to awaken Mom in a few minutes, slowly pushing her toward a reasonable morning. I've checked in on her a couple of times; she's breathing easily and deeply. I noticed from her eye movements at 1000 that she was dreaming so decided to give her another half hour...her dreams are always good reverie for her (which, I imagine, is something like good karma).
I've just about decided to completely ignore the rest of the holidays this year in exactly the same way I ignored Thanksgiving. I'm too damned tired to switch into warp drive and shuffle Mom around at relatives' pleasure. Since I'm looking forward to the possibilities with dread, it seems the easiest way to get rid of the dread is to confine the holidays to our house and ignore what everyone else would like. A weekly caregiver newsletter I receive yakked on and on about "making the holidays easier" by scouting out possibilities for temporary care of one's loved one to free the caregiver up for holiday preparation. Sounds too damned complicated and busy to me. Just what I need: Worrying about the quality of subs, spending at least an hour before and after working Mom up then working her down; frantically doing "holiday chores", trying to smash them into the smallest amount of time so that "my loved one" doesn't spend too much time in the company of equally frenzied subs, planning, planning, planning...I'm tired. No way I'm going to rev myself up for that kind of "ease".
So, I'm just going to let the rest of the holidays descend on us this year. Maybe we'll do some activities, visit the Gingerbread House exhibit, for instance; we might also do a couple of car tours of the lights around Prescott, which are amazing, encased in their homey mountain niche as they are. Whatever happens, happens. I'm sure I'll do a modified holiday dinner. I'll think of something besides ham or turkey, make sure it's absolutely delicious, maybe even make a pie from scratch now that I know I can do this and that Sara Lee's pie making skills leave something to be desired (like raspberries, for instance). I might even make an apple pie (fruits of the season), which I usually don't like. The idea, though, of Mom lighting up at a truly lip smacking apple confection gives me some pleasure. I'm not dashing around this year, though, on behalf of displaying Mom to those who'd like to see her. If anyone comes here, well, they'll need to be forewarned, I'm not fooling around with any extra preparations or niceties. They can come, they can go, whatever, we'll be glad to see them, but I'm not working us up over to-or-from visits this year. It's been a hard year. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.
Time to awaken the sleeping Ancient beauty.
Later.
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