Mom & Me Two Archive

    Not that it hasn't happened before, but I just lost a post.
    Mom is still sleeping. If I don't hear from her by 1000 I'll start subconsciously waking her with incessant, silent checks.
    I was mentioning my mother's interest in The Passion. Her exposure, early and often, to a traveling German passion play troupe in Spearfish Canyon, SD. Her lifelong avocational interest in religious scholarship of all types regarding all religions, with an emphasis on her ancestral, well informed, thoughtful Christianity. So far, we've decided against seeing the movie. From the sneak previews all over television it wasn't the violence that drove her away. It was the Aramaic with English subtitles. She knows that passion plays are the worst twelve days of Jesus' life. You have to expect some blood. As well, we discussed that if you want to talk realism you have to remember that Jesus was not the only person crucified that day. At least two other criminals suffered the death penalty. We talked about how Jesus was a political criminal, not the first proclaimed messiah to be considered a rabble rouser and be executed, not the first to die as a result of mob rule and Roman indifference. As to the executioners, it was as though they came on at 0900, checked their rosters, did their job. Jesus' Crown of Thorns and nasty entitlement were not the first. Nor was his flogging. So the prospect of violence wasn't the problem.
    I expect we'll watch it in DVD. I'll probably watch all of it out of curiosity. Mom will probably watch some, then her concentration will wander.
    I've been thinking for awhile that we need to read again. We've been having ambivalent success with the book The DaVinci Code. Some nights go well. Then we skip a few nights because her concentration isn't up to following words strung together in sentences to make a story. Then, a few nights later, when she can stand it again we have to retrace. That can be troubling. I begin to yawn. She fidgets. And, well, it's not like it used to be.
    Coughing has begun. Later.

...I've updated the Sharing Wisdom Conference Review to reflect up-to-the-minute information regarding the yearly Arizona Women's Expo.
    I've been up for awhile. Mom probably won't arise for awhile. I have plans to get us out. I know I'll be doing yard work later today as it warms. Wow! The weather prediction is 85°F today with a breeze! Nice day! "Near record high temperatures" through the week, dipping back to our normal 60's toward the weekend." I hope the miscellaneous roses I ordered arrive soon.
    Later.

...was very interesting. The treatment consisted of a lot of what I would refer to as rolling joint body work and stretching. The LPT performed some obvious realignment but also did a series of very gentle rocking and rolling movements (with and without props) with Mom's limbs and back that reminded me of when I get down on the floor almost every night, sometimes in the middle of the day, and roll my joints against the floor, moving with and against the manipulation, stand up and 'shake myself out', literally, then do the floor joint rolling again, adding stretching. I could feel in my joints what the LPT was doing to my mother as I watched her work.
    My mother spot-dozed throughout the treatment. She was attentive when she needed to be but, as is typical of her, very relaxed throughout as far as I could tell.
    Previous to the treatment the LPT noticed that my mother was negotiating uneven ground surprisingly well as we walked to her door. I was surprised, too. After the treatment the LPT mentioned to me that she had been performing some neck work on my mother. I noticed her working my mother's neck very lightly. Sometimes I wasn't sure her fingers were moving. She mentioned that the area between my mother's shoulders and the base of her skull is the area that is most obviously blocked. I'm not surprised. As my mother arose from the platform the LPT talked a bit about what she was doing in terms of Mom having confidence in her legs and their ability to hold her up. She does weave. It has been slowly but steadily disappearing but it started prior to her back injury. Through this treatment I can see (and rejoice each time I notice) that many of her physical quirks that have created movement issues and energy issues over the last few years are being addressed. I am very, very grateful for this.
    She did not take a nap today after treatment, although treatment was late today, 1400. Our next one is either 1500 or 1530 a week from today. Although I was surprised she didn't nap, she mentioned when we got home and she exited from the car that she felt as though she'd "had a workout". She did. When the LPT stopped she said, "I think that's as far as I want to go today," and looked at my mother as though she might have hoped for better but was satisfied with the greater understanding of my mother's body she gained.
    I have plans for this weekend...plans to start some things and finish some others, plans to get my mother out and away from the house at least once, plans to do some yardwork. I've begun a compost bin of sorts and am tending with what will probably turn out to be over solicitous care to our new roses. Plans to finish getting all our tax stuff together and getting it down to MA Monday...plans, plans, plans. Plans that can turn on a dime.
    I baked the blueberry muffins tonight but decided against using Splenda®. Previous to mixing the muffins I made myself a cup of blueberry tea, which I normally sweeten with a well coated teaspoon of honey. I decided to try it with a low rounded table teaspoon of Splenda® to allow myself a preview of how the muffins would taste and how little to use. I don't care what they say. Splenda tastes like saccharine, just a lighter version. The tea was sweetened more than enough and had such a harsh edge that I dumped it down the drain. It tasted so synthetic I decided not to add the teabag to the composting material. I think I've finally got the altitude adjustment down. 375°F, 15-16 minutes, follow the fucking recipe as closely as possible.
    Damn, I'm tired. Later.

or, rather, lack of it, which was a surprise. Normally when she's tired she smokes more. Although certainly engaged with our company she was tired throughout their visit. I think she spent only a couple hours outside. For the most part was too tired to eat much, although she snacked enthusiastically. She forgot, though, to smoke for long periods of time. I try to control her morning wake-up-and-get-going routine so that she sails through breakfast (a good 2 hour sojourn, a half hour of which is devoted to getting her out of bed) before remembering to smoke. Sometimes my manipulations don't work (manipulations which include hiding cigarettes, hiding ashtrays, engaging her in animated discussions about what the day looks like outside and what plans we do and could have). Company distracted her enough though, over the last 36 hours, that she simply didn't smoke much. I don't think MPS and her daughter ever had to ask Mom to put out a cigarette. She did chain smoke outside in the back yard Wednesday evening, but that was it.
    She seems to really enjoy fruit muffins so I think I'll experiment with making one more batch of blueberry muffins, this time with Splenda®. Despite the package directions which recommend using Splenda® measure-for-measure in place of sugar, we discovered a couple of months ago as we ruined one of our favorite light desserts that measure-for-measure renders a sickly sweet product. I'm making the muffins with half whole grain whole wheat flour, as usual, and sweet butter rather than magarine. She can use the calories although not the sugar.
    Mom has her second therapy appointment today. She'll probably sleep most of the afternoon. I decided this morning, looking in on her and noticing the depth of her sleep and breathing, that if she isn't up before 1000 of her own accord I'll let her sleep till I absolutely have to get her up for her appointment. We need to do her hair as well as all else but that should help perk her up for her appointment.
    I'm going to attempt to incorporate her into some supervisory yard work this weekend. Being outside boosts her spirits like nothing else and the weather has been so beautiful that our neighborhood is invitingly active. She has a perennial problem with cold feet (which seems to have passed itself onto at least one of my nieces) so if she's up for a shopping trip this weekend we're going to look for some wool/silk blend socks or some made of polypropelene glycol fibers.
    I'm also hoping to find some time this weekend to polish off the Doctors and Patience presentation (into which it has morphed) and post that. And there's some miscellaneous cleaning to do...you know the drill.
    It's true, as I told MPS and her daughter this weekend. I'm profoundly satisfied with my life right now all of it even the part of me that is engaged in active hate. Everything feels good. Everything feels absolutely right.
    Amazing. Later.

...has ended. Mom was tired through this one but remained game, literally. Yesterday evening when we were all pretty noddy MPNC introduced us to Taboo. When she explained it not only did I think I'd have a difficult time with it, I thought Mom would but I'll try anything and I encourage Mom to do the same (she doesn't usually need the encouragement, anyway). As it turned out when she was concentrating just a little, she was "in" the game and did well, both as the cluer and the guesser. Her concentration wandered a lot but so did the rest of ours'.
    Considering her level of registered wash out, she didn't sleep that much and only barely resisted getting out of bed this morning. She remembered we had visitors but couldn't hear them prowling so assumed they were still in bed. I rounded them up to wish her good morning and that did the trick. Mostly.
    It seemed to me yesterday that she was a bit pale so I looked for excuses to feed her iron. This morning her lips were ringed in blue so she's getting plenty. In the bathroom light this morning she looked pale. Earlier this afternoon as we were watching High Noon (the first time either of us have seen this movie) in obtuse, reflected sunlight she looked in peachy good health.
    She viewed her new rose stubs this morning. We planted the "bright red" one in her line of vision as she looks through the dinette modified cathedral window. It will get full sun all day. The cream-to-orange Hybrid Tea is a bit out of her line of vision. Before rose planting season is over we'll have roses spotted throughout the property. In 7-8 weeks with good weather (which we're having) and good care they'll be blooming.
    Yesterday afternoon MPS and I stumbled up toward the back of the property to have some "sister time", which is understood to be time exclusive of kids. While we were stretching out on the rocks in the sun MPS mentioned that she felt I should remain here in this house, in this town, after Mom dies. I tend to agree with her now, to my surprise. I am enormously contented and satisfied doing what I'm doing and doing it here. I like the fact that our family considers this a pivot point in their lives. As well, this property, for me, will always be blessed by my mother's presence. Even the aura of her occasional uneasiness here is charged with the vigor of this property and her spirit. There are few other places I can think of that offer these advantages.
    Well, I've got some after-visit breakdown and buildout to do. Later.

...for 3/17/04 and beyond until another change. The most obvious change is that I've become more flexible with medications as we go. I was surprised to discover this.
    I didn't mention cinnamon in this update. I don't administer it regularly enough yet for me to judge whether it's had an effect.
    One thing I forgot to mention: It has been determined that, at least up here, Siberian Ginseng is not a good idea for her. I suppose I should include that under Flexibly Administered Meds. Just up and already a change is underway.
    MPS and her daughter are probably about halfway through the city by now on their way up here. The blueberry muffins are made and cool. Everything is chopped for tonight's stir fry. The sauce is mixed for the ribs. The roses are waiting to be planted. Time, I think, to start rousing Mom, after I fold one more load of laundry.
    Later.

...from scratch, loads of fresh blueberries, half whole grain wheat flour. I'll bet our company will prefer these to pancakes. It will be easy to get Mom up today. All I'll have to do is say the word "visitors".
    Mom cheerfully eats healthily if everyone is eating healthily; well, within reason. Her taste for vegetables has developed late in life and her taste for sugar has been, well, modified is a good word. The ebb and flow of dementia and/or illness always makes it easier to adjust her diet. I never in my life thought I'd see her licking her chops over a chef's salad nor did I think she'd ever stop thinking about chocolate on a daily basis. Slowing down helps some, too. She has kept her mid-central farm appestat: In that part of the country one "builds" an appetite. I'm glad she's always been in the habit of taking supplements. Her mother was, too.
    I noticed last night in bright living room light with the setting sun hitting her right side the return of the peach skin undertone. Anemia bleeds this layer of color. When her body is processing (or, for that matter, not processing) iron anemically, she looks like she's wearing blush (iron supplementation) over paper white skin. We've also stepped up the use of the OTC allergy eye drops, Opcon A. They seem to help. I don't notice nearly as many balled up tissues lying around when we use those 2 to 3 times a day.
    I haven't checked on her yet. I'm making so much noise out here that she's probably peripherally aware that a promising day has begun.
    I've begun to revise and update the medication schedule. I'll be publishing that url in a few days.
    My thumbs are, well, as my mother would say, "Still there."
    Later.

...I want to insert, later, some medical information links from MCS. Great resources.
    Damn, that fruitless plum is gorgeous in the late afternoon!
    Later.

...my ambivalence about the business I do on behalf of my mother. The more I become involved with the business world the more I hate it and I wasn't loving it when I knew nothing about doing business. My thumb and index fingers are my "business" fingers; and injury as a result of massaging my mother's feet incorrectly, well, take my word for it, that fits, too. So, I mentioned to the acupuncturist today, once again during a pause in treatment, that although it was pretty much hand hell this last week and I lived on ibuprofen and, by the way, my feet pain is creeping back but the shoulder seems secure. This, I explained, gave me a chance to reflect upon what the underlying emotional issue was and, interestingly, it is a recalcitrant issue. I didn't go into detail and she didn't offer encouragement so, I don't know, maybe it doesn't matter. I do know I was webbed, once again, in a grip so tight movement zapped me, and she found precisely my tender spots. As well, as she did the vocal part of her treatment in which she, literally, speaks notes into the air, she mentioned that a pathogen, probably the recalcitrant one, reseeded in several different places. Cagey little issue. Anyway, after an extended, corrected treatment, everything seems to be falling back into place. Maybe it will help if I work on reducing my discomfort about my internal (and, often, external) conflict with capitalistic business, enlightened 2004 business and not worry about my actual hatred of business.
    Our "fruitless plum" that's been allowed to shake itself off for 3 years is loaded with blossoms. It looks like a cherry tree and there are more to bloom. Looking through our modified cathedral windows into the beflowered branches to the sky I feel like I'm in Japan. Or maybe D.C. The enormity and lackidaisity of the beauty here is so seductive and we live in the perfect house for it to lure Mom. She did not accompany me today. She is fully aware that MPS and my MPNC are arriving tomorrow and is sleeping her way into it by imagining the exhaustion she probably won't feel. She's so funny! So, I let her get away with it. Her treatment yesterday, for her, was a deep workout and she is sitting straighter and rising with less and less self-consciousness.
    I purchased only one more rose bush. My mother's specific request was to only get another if I could find a "bright red" one. I found the only one left, "Passionate", a 3.5" "bright red" bloom. It will dazzle in the sun in 7-8 weeks. We will be outside all day tomorrow. The weather will be beautiful. Mom insists she is going to "do yardwork". Whatever. She'll certainly be "doing" in the yard. This is the perfect time of year for her up here. The hotter it gets the cooler the back yard is in relation to the house. I'm hoping the promise of roses, with which we've never had much luck in Mesa, will take away some of the sting of losing our in-their-prime citrus, which she isn't forgetting, when we divest ourselves of the mobile home. Our mated woodpecker pair is back, has brought what appears to be a child and I've noticed a few other pairs in yonder Ponderosa. I spotted, first by song then by sight, a Robin; I didn't think those nested here. MCF spotted the oddest, dusky green bird the size of a cactus wren (which is to say, tiny). Something ferocious is chomping away at a very woody plant in our side yard. Maybe javelina. Something else is sharpening its teeth on our compromised apple tree. Every morning there are fresh raccoon prints in our wash, which is still running, which means the water table is high. Our elms are multiplying like rabbits and need to be thinned. Our pear needs its protective elm to lose a few limbs to the light. When she's in the yard my mother is very keen on remembering what we have and what the possibilities are. This will be our first attentive spring here. It will be interesting to see what this does for her, hmmm... quality of life and health and everything in general.
    It will be a busy night, including doing her hair. She'll be up past eleven, maybe even midnight. I'm somewhat refreshed, having coffee, letting her sleep while I relax and stretch and roll my head. Tonight would be a good night to order fast food, and she could use some sodium. Much to do.
    Later.

...Feldenkrais and I've listed the address for the official Feldenkrais Movement Studies Institute on the Information & Resources page.
    Today, I think, will be a "medium" day. If she isn't up by 1000 I'll call her but I've already heard a reconnaissance cough so she may be up earlier. I allowed her to go to bed after only 2 quarts of liquid (the recommended minimum amount of fluid in any form including soupy meals, cottage cheese, etc., to administer daily to the easily dehydrated elderly). Her normal daily intake approaches 3 quarts but she's retaining it better right now.
    She's dropped 2 pounds and may have dropped another pound after yesterday's spontaneous bowel cleansing so I'm judiciously adding fats to her diet and a few more starches. Gotta watch it with those blueberries, though. I keep forgetting that berries are a natural laxative.
    I intend to get her moving by taking her to Costco to see the selection of ready-to-plant roses and allow her to decide if she wants any others besides the one I purchased yesterday. I'm also hoping that she'll feel spry enough that I'll feel comfortable taking today's acupuncture appointment. My thumbs really need it and I'm staying off the ibuprofen so it doesn't get in the way of the treatment.
    The Fairness Doctrine: MCF's bright, thoughtful, outspoken daughter asked me about Mom's acupuncture. After assuring her that it is very gentle I proceeded to describe session upon session of my own and my mother's which produced some discomfort and acupuncture points that didn't work. Wry young woman that she is, she picked up on this and asked me point blank, "Are you sure it's doing you and your mother any good?"
    I had to stop and think. Well, yes, my foot pain is almost gone as well as my right shoulder kink and I didn't even mention those to the acupuncturist. My mother feels significant relief after her appointments for 36 hours or more. This allows her to move more and strengthen her muscles. While it's true that every single treatment I've experienced involving the needles (the acupuncturist has used other techniques on me, too) has been, to say the least, dynamic, always surprisingly, unpleasurably so, any discomfort is easily absorbed, endurable, and, frankly, from my mother's reactions during her treatments, she rarely experiences even close to the discomfort I've experienced during treatment.
    In acupuncturist lingo, I was harboring "a lot of pathogens". One is apparently recalcitrant. I've been searching (strictly under my own auspices) myself for emotional connections to this reluctant pathogen and think I know to what it might be connected. Unfortunately, I also know that it is connected to an issue that won't be resolved soon. I'm hoping (against hope this time which, considering my nature, sometimes works for me) that just my awareness of it will help release the pathogen. As a footnote, so I don't inadvertently slander my acupuncturist's good name, the idea of searching for an emotional manifestation of a physical pathogen was not something she suggested. I picked this up off a television family drama Mom watches regularly that, this season, happens to be featuring a character who practices acupuncture and has made mention of the "underlying emotional component" to any particular dis-ease that needs to be addressed for complete healing to occur. At one point last session, I believe, because I thought it might be a factor, I mentioned, during the diagnosis part of the treatment (our acupuncturist rediagnoses each time), that I was in the process of "actively hating someone, with full consciousness", suggesting that maybe this was a factor in my stubborn thumbs (although, frankly, there isn't an easy connection, here). She looked at me as some non-alternative healers have looked at me when I say things like, "I'm using cinnamon to lower her blood sugar and I think it's working," shook her head and quickly dismissed that idea. Today, though, I think that I have my finger (specifically, my thumb) on an underlying emotional connection to this disability so I think I'll run it by her.
    It sounds like arousal is taking place in the sunny middle bedroom. I'll probably check back...
...Later.

    Mom has retired. I got a short (45 minute) nap in on the floor this evening. It surprised both of us. Lately I've tended to remain in constant movement until I begin to reel, then drop where I am like an animal, take a short, deep snooze then arise and move again. Neither Mom nor I realized I'd fallen asleep until I woke up toward the end of the program we'd been watching.
    Some of my instant somnolence is related to the lifting of a huge concern of mine throughout this back injury adventure: How debilitated is my mother and how much will she be likely to recover? I am more relieved than I imagined to discover that the chances are better than good that much about her physical presence over the last few years is correctable and improvable. As well, her muscles are still old dogs capable of new tricks. I am so grateful to realize this. Today, talking to MPS and quickly encapsulating what had happened to us since our visit with them over Christmas, after ending with a felicitous rendering of some of the information I gleaned during Mom's PT appointment today, I spontaneously blurted, "You should be honored to be one of this woman's descendants."
    Without hesitation she responded, effusively, "I am. I am."
    "I know," I said. "I just needed to say it out loud."
    "I know. I know."
    I'm flabbergasted to look back on the last 5 months and realize how perfect the timing of everything was despite my numerous (sometimes approaching Drama Queen) frustrations. It has only been in the last two weeks that Mom has seemed able to tolerate the increased physical stress of laying on her back for treatments. She requires more oxygen but when she is breathing comfortably she not only tolerates treatment, she relaxes to the point of snoozing. This is especially advantageous for both the acupuncturist and the LPT.
    I haven't mentioned this, but for those who are interested in looking it up, the specific name of the technique she is using on Mom is Feldenkrais. During some of Mom's earlier acupuncture appointments I learned about it from idly reading newsletters then scan reading a book about the technique I found in one of the acunpuncture treatment center libraries. I was impressed with the way the book talked about body sense, movement and deliberate (vs. inadvertent) body education. Some of the book storyboarded the development of some of the techniques that have become standard, including the elaborate history of a stroke victim who served as a particularly useful (not to mention grateful) subject of experimentation. Then, Mom's acupuncturist recommended a Feldenkrais LPT.
    I can't say that Mom is moving remarkably easier tonight but she is talking about her back in a different way when the subject comes up. As she ascended the two stairs toward the bathroom and I asked her how her back felt, it looked like she was screwing herself up into her usual, ironic, "It's still there." She paused, though, concentrated on her back and said, "I think it might be a little better, tonight."
    Since the appointment I have more confidence in following my mother's dictates about, for instance, whether she is dehydrating. Hydration is a tricky thing in the elderly. During the worst of her recovery period I often wondered if the body needed to keep her at a lower hydration level in order to promote some internal healing. I never addressed this with a physician. I also kept the water flowing through her. Now, though, her body is more apt to absorb it and use it for awhile before passing it through so I'm trusting her own sense of thirst (which seems to be improving) a little more.
    Her color has looked very good today despite that she accidentally received only half her dose of iron. She has dozed a lot today but not enough to call it a Method Nap. She fully participated in the phone call with MPS about their visit this week and sounded, from my end, as though she was talking to her cousins and peers in Iowa. I am so pleased that we are having lots of company, this week. Timing is everything.
    I am feeling a deep, visceral sense of satisfaction. I can trust the immortality of her spirit. She'll die, but she'll be here for a long time. She loves it here.
    When we're watching The Animal Planet channel I'll tease her about in what form we'll reincarnate. Both of us would prefer to come back as animals (or another form of existence). I'm still trying to convince her that it might be interesting to be dung beetles for a life. We both agree, though, that being born female into an elephant matriarchy before elephants were poached would be an agreeable life.
    I'll decide in the morning which of us will take the acupuncture appointment tomorrow afternoon. I think I might need it worse than she but we'll see. I'll be scrutinizing her in the morning for signs that she could use a palliative needling. Frankly, though, these thumbs need to be punctured, again. So at this point it's six of one...
    We are planning a trip to Costco as well, to pick up a few more roses. MPS and her daughter want to do yard work so that's what we'll do. The weather will be beautiful. I think everyone will be in good spirits.
    What a day. I'm stoked. And tired. Later.

    I'm very pleased. Mom is very relaxed. This appointment was a combination of an E(valuation) and R(ecommendation) and initial treatment. Essentially, Mom was evaluated and treated at the same time.
    During the initial part of the appointment the LPT had Mom push her various limbs against the LPT's resistance and mentioned that Mom exhibited "surprising strength", which was a relief for me to hear. My guess is that the "surprising" element is relative to her age, her slow recovery from her severe lower back strain and her forced immobility for the past four and a half months. I know that my father's body had unusual muscular (as well as other types) of endurance. I know this from having observed his endurance and having gotten his body. Although I must assume that my mother's body is from similar stock, since I don't have an obvious physical connection to it I'm never sure. I was afraid that she would be experiencing extreme muscular atrophy as a result of her enforced immobility but her muscular atrophy doesn't seem to be as pronounced as I feared. Maybe some of this is due to our walking and my constant correcting of her walking, sitting, standing and moving but I have a feeling most of it is indigenous to her genetic muscular eccentricities.
    The treatment phase of the appointment took place on her back, which was initially uncomfortable until I boosted her oxygen to 4/lpm. I also learned, through observing, how to move her from laying on her back to a sitting position on the edge of a platform, which is an extremely valuable technique for me. I'd been doing it previously in a way that, I can see now, was not completely gentle. Once Mom was on her back the therapist used her body to read my mother's body for incorrect placement and gently adjusted her structural layout using her hands and arms beneath my mother's back. She gently worked the large joint positioning of Mom's arms and encouraged her to feel what was going on inside her body as she was adjusted. She mentioned to me that my mother's breathing would probably improve as the torsal portion of her skeleton readjusted and the ribs and other bones were encouraged to separate from their presently pinched layout. From a point below my mother's raised knees the LPT adjusted the stance of Mom's hips and pelvic joints. She also asked a series of graduated questions about how Mom reacted physically to various movements and positions in order to pinpoint what positioning was causing problems. The LPT included a helpful commentary on how it is, as injuries crop up and we compensate for the pain they cause, we incorporate the less painful of those movements into our habitual movement, thus never ridding ourselves of pain related to the initial injury. We just pass the stress and concomitant pain from area to area.
    When today's adjustment and work out was completed the LPT mentioned to Mom that she may feel tired and have some discomfort but that relaxing (any excuse to take a nap) would help. Mom's already got that glazed, "This is a good time for a nap," look. As well, her bowels decided to take this morning to clean themselves out. They did the tail end of this during her appointment. I had her girded for this, just in case. She isn't interested in eating at the moment, feeling that it might go right through her, so I'll make sure when she arises that a binding dinner is ready for her.
    I think the most valuable aspect for me of the PT appointment this morning was that it renewed my faith in my mother's interior physical sense. When she is recovering from something she often has more faith in her body's interior common sense than I do. I usually follow her dictates but sometimes I have a hard time giving her free reign, especially when, outwardly, her weaknesses are apparent to me. I think I tend to magnify them by a factor that includes what I imagine to be her inherent frailty at any particular time and cause myself more anxiety than is necessary. It always helps me to see my mother the way others, including and especially insightful healers, experience her.
    Our next appointment is this Friday. My intention is to get her out as much as possible, even if it's wandering around the yard while I continue spring clean-up.
    Looks like it's time to settle Mom into bed for a nap and head out on errands. Later.

...but that shouldn't be a problem. As soon as I remind my mother that we have a PT appointment just up the street she'll move quickly (for her). I'll box step around her, setting up and breaking down the house before and after her, we'll both get a shot of those energetic endorphins. Yes, even at her slow level of movement a jolt of intense (relatively speaking) movement enlivens her and moves her past whatever chronic joint pains slow her down just like in middle age. We'll do fine.
    A few weeks ago when MCF, her daughter and her "adopted" daughter were here and I described, in fairly specific detail, the type of therapy Mom would be receiving, MCF's daughter recognized it as the type of therapy she'd had. "Be prepared for your Mom to hurt immediately after the treatments," she warned me. I reminded her that this was supposed to be "very gentle neuromuscular reeducation" and she responded, "yeah, that's what they told me, but I had to sleep away the aching after every appointment. It did help, though," I remember her saying.
    Today will be an evaluation and treatment recommendation appointment. There will be paperwork. I imagine I will be attending on the entire appointment although I want to be sure and make it clear that I am amenable to walking down the hill back home and leaving her in the LPT's care if that would work. Although my mother isn't aware of it, my mere presence in a room can sometimes distract her from falling fully into a healing treatment. She doesn't, however, miss me when I absent myself.
    After The Overnight Hospital Stay in September of 2002 I am much more savvy about judging a situation to be dangerous to my mother if she's left alone. I had been with her constantly since her arrival there through the emergency room and took all the recommended steps at that hospital that evening to ensure she would be well cared for in my absence. When they forgot her dinner tray except at my reminding I was suspicious so I interviewed the evening nursing staff, indicated certain disabilities that would make her a labor intensive client and was assured that she would be fine alone. Well, in a sense they were right. Her mental fogginess saved her because my mother neither registered nor remembered the verbal abuse to which she was subjected that night courtesy of one of the nurses but the incident scared her aware, alert roommate who complained to the hospital administrator's office the next day. Now I know that industrial care centers, including hospitals, are tricky and dangerous in which to leave my mother unattended. Often, though, it is beneficial to my mother for me to leave the area of one-on-one healing care.
    Ah, well, I need to jump back into time and rouse my ancient one.
    Later.