Mom & Me Two Archive

    My morning before my mother's arising went pretty well. I was feeling good, did a few "extra" chores that aren't daily, like defeathering the laundry area behind the machines and cleaning out the second worst of our cupboards (which means I left the 'spice' cupboard alone). The only odd thing was that I couldn't (and still can't) get comfortable temperature-wise. I fiddled incessantly with the thermostats in the living room and dinette (we have baseboard electric heaters), alternately donned and shed layers, two things I hardly ever do, throughout the morning and early afternoon. I know for sure I haven't fiddled with the thermostats since we triggered heating sometime in early October. Didn't think much about this, though.
    Then, around the time Mom decided to take a nap, sometime around 1500, I surprised myself by deciding to take a nap, too. I'd been fighting fatigue for a couple of hours but didn't think about that, either, I just modified my activity, finally whittled it down to almost nothing but thermostat and clothes layer maintenance. I kept Mom busy with episodes of Northern Exposure and folding laundry.
    When I laid down for a nap I was out like a light. Then began having bizarre, active dreams (not scary, just completely inexplicable) and the light started flickering. I also couldn't get warm. Finally, I heard Mom flush the toilet, which meant she'd taken the tape off the flush mechanism (I'll explain later), and I leapt out of bed and almost fell over. Felt really, really awful. So, noting that it was only 1600, I fed Mom lunch with her iron pills and told her I was going back to bed. At that point I slept like the dead until almost 2000. I guess Mom was fine. She had books and magazines piled around her at the dinette table, a glass of water (which she'd gotten herself, amazingly), and seemed fine. I didn't. I slogged through dinner preparation, which we ate about 2245, huddled on the couch under a blanket staring over Mom's shoulder at her Wednesday programs, West Wing and, damn, something else, I can't remember now, and suddenly broke into a sweat and begin fiddling with thermostats and my layers of clothing again.
    Socially, I've been a bear since about halfway through my day. I don't know, I'd like to think it's just a bug and maybe that's part of it is, I can't think of any other reason why I'd be so temperature sensitive. I think, too, some of it's psychosomatic. The holidays are never my shining season and they are particularly onerous this year, even though I've already decided not to do the holiday dash that I usually do. This afternoon, as I drifted into what turned out to be a troubled sleep, I noticed myself fantasizing about hibernating through the holidays and waking up on New Year's Day. That would work if I could keep Mom in bed, too.

    This morning out of curiosity I asked my mother if she was still "thinking about Martelle".
    "I don't think I'll teach there next year," she said. "They won't have what I need. Martelle is too small a district."
    "What do you mean? What would you need that they don't have?"
    "Oh, you know..."
    "You mean, like audio-visual supplies, resources..."
    "There aren't very many places to take kids for field trips an on-site learning. Most of those kids already know every square inch of territory there."
    "Well, you have a point. Have you thought of teaching in a larger area, like a city?"
    "Yes, but not Phoenix. Too big and too little money in education there."
    That's true. I was surprised that she'd remembered the recent education stories on the local news.
    "Would you consider teaching on Guam, again?"
    "No, too far from family."
    Well, I thought, at least, this morning, she has some idea of where she is, geographically. "How about here? I know, from where we sit, it looks like a small community, but the population ranges throughout the year from seventy to a hundred thousand. Lots of kids. Lots of interest in education. Lots of opportunities in public, private and charter schools."
    She looked at me with interest. "You know, you're right. I hadn't thought about that. Might not be a bad idea."
    I was dying to mention the Navy but, for a reason I can't lingualize, decided against it. "Well," I said, "the next time I'm out, you want me to stop by the county and pick up some information about applying? Where they might need teachers and such?"
    "Oh," she said, "I don't need to apply. I've taught here before. I'm sure there won't be a problem. I'll go where ever they need me."
    She hasn't ever taught here but I decided not to question that point. I figured we might be in Iowa this morning, although a larger town, maybe Cedar Rapids, and, if so, she's right, she has taught "here". "Well," I said, "you'll need to let them know you're returning. And, they might want you to update your hiring information."
    "They know who I am," she said. "Everything will be fine."
    Gotta love that woman.

    Regarding taping the flush mechanism: Breaking Mom of the habit of cleaning herself, especially after bowel movements, is a constant battle. I think it's one of those long term memory items that I'm not ever going to change. So is making sure she doesn't flush her iron-laden feces down the toilet before it's had a chance to soften and disipate. One of the reasons I'm now cleaning her is that she inadvertently dirties herself when she cleans herself. The other reason is that she tends to stuff the toilet with paper. At least a couple times a week, sometimes on a daily basis, I've been having to unclog the toilet. When I got a blister from doing this last week I banned all paper from the bathroom except the paper she wears. Unfortunately, I hadn't figured that, yesterday, in a fit of no-toilet-paper frustration, while I was doing something elsewhere in the house and wasn't aware she was in the bathroom, she'd rip her paper underwear apart, use that as toilet paper and flush the toilet. That's when I decided to tape the flush mechanism on her toilet.
    Today, although I tried to keep an eagle eye and a feline's ear on her bathroom, when I laid down for a nap I was a few seconds too late. She had meticulously untaped the flush mechanism and whatever she used to clean herself, I have no idea, went through the pipes. This time there was no clog. Fortunately.
    I guess I'm going to have to monitor her elimination habits more closely now. I thought this wasn't possible considering that I've already got my nose up her ass. I've also made a mental note to purchase a pipe snake at Home Depot and ask if there's a way to fasten the flush mechanism from the inside of the tank so that it can't be triggered unless it's unfastened.
    A piece of good news, we've finally gotten a handle on the weeks long irritation that was developing in the creases at the tops of her thighs that she'd scratch raw at night. I tried several things, including cornstarch 24 hours a day, anti-itch spray, bacitracin for the skin abrasions she was creating and making sure I cleaned her with a special cleanser at least three times a day. Nothing seemed to work very well for very long. Last week I went back to the skin irritation area of the pharmacy once more and found a generic anti-itch cream that didn't contain any oil or petroleum products. We've been using it, now, with the corn starch regularly. You almost can't tell she had a problem. She has a few funny little spots (no broken skin) on her left side so I decided that I'd check out the jock itch products next time in case the spots are a fungus; see if any of those have no oil or petroleum. If they don't I'll use one instead of the anti-itch cream for awhile. If they do, I'll use that product just on the spots and the anti-itch cream everywhere else.
    I'm feeling a little, hmmm...iffy, tonight, but somewhat better since I finally took ibuprofen. I suppose I was probably spiking a fever all day, but I've been taking so much ibuprofen lately that I was trying to avoid taking it, today. I finally gave in. We'll see how tomorrow goes.
    Later.