Update finally

Those of my readers who have been checking in on Gertie's Galavants blog might be wondering about my rather long hiatus from writing this time. I've taken breaks before but never 2 months. Life has just changed significantly over here during the last two months but I will give an update today.

First off, Mom is still fine although we're coming to the end of the road. Her rehab from her broken hip went very well and she rapidly gained strength. She and I were delighted to get her home in December and she was, if not back to 100%, back to walking a bit between the kitchen and the living room where I had her bed set up. In fact, she was doing so well that I moved the bed back upstairs into her bedroom. I had plenty of friends dropping by and we even took a few trips out to lunch with Carina and Sharyn.

On January 24th though, she started to feel differently. Sharyn and I had been out for the day while Carina stayed with her. When we returned, she was very weak and slumped over in her chair, laboring for breath. Interestingly, she'd been fine earlier in the day but, when we returned, it was a very rapid decline in status.

I called hospice and the nurse came out immediately - she thought that we were coming to the end so I called Ron and Mike. But, as is typical of my Mom, she has rallied- sort of. Mike flew in the next day and has been instrumental in keeping me sane as we watch her come and go. She's still lucid and not in any sort of pain at all which is a total blessing.

Hospice instructed me to change her medications to comfort meds only. This meant that I was to hold everything except one blood pressure pill and a pill which helps with breathing. We added in morphine which actually helps relieve strained breathing and a "feel good" drug which relieves anxiety.

The hardest thing in the world for me though was to hold the Megace medication which increased her appetite. I'm a feeder. I was raised that way and that's who I am. My mom never failed to put together a tray of cheese and crackers when company dropped by and I have adopted the same attitude.

It was really very difficult for me to hold this medication while knowing that Mom would not eat nearly as well and would eventually weaken. I talked this decision over with my brothers, and we were all uneasy with this. I spoke again with hospice and got a new perspective.

As we age, our bodies slow in all ways. Food is digested much more slowly which is why the elderly might not be hungry as often as younger people. By giving Megace, Mom's appetite would out run her ability to digest food and would, in fact, make her feel bloated. So, at that point, Megace would not be a "comfort med" and would make her feel worse. Once I saw the whole picture, I got it.

This doesn't mean that I've stopped feeding though. John and I found a chocolate milk that she's wild about. It comes in the old fashioned glass bottle and we've had a few nice discussions about memories of having milk men deliver fresh eggs, bread and milk daily. She drank a whole bottle in two days so I sent Mike and Sharyn off yesterday in search of more which they found.

So, that's pretty much where we are. I can't say enough about the wonderful hospice workers we have coming in daily. Mom receives baths in bed 5 days a week (I premedicate her as she's still a fighter...), a nurse is here every day and, of course, I have the best friends and family in the world. Andi and Howie stopped by a few days ago and spent the whole day with us. What a nice time that was.

Although this is a sad time, it's also a very interesting and amazing time. Mom's rally moments are quite amazing. And, even her down times are sort of amusing - if you keep your sense of humor which, thankfully, I inherited from her.

For instance, here's a typical morning:

Set the stage - 4 am, I'm on the sofa watching her, watching tv. She sits straight up in bed and says "Good Morning, Sweetheart! COFFEE!"

Me: You want coffee now??
Mom: Yes (with rising intensity): COFFEE!!!!
Me: Ok, I'll be right back. I go to the kitchen and make her a cup of fresh coffee. This takes approximately 3 minutes, round trip.
I enter the living room with a steaming cup of coffee.
Mom: Jesus Christ! Where have you been?!
Me: I went to the kitchen to make you coffee. I've been gone 3 minutes!
Mom: Thank God! I haven't had coffee in days!

Short term memory loss is an amazing thing. Now, to get the full impact of this situation, you have to understand that the exact conversation (minus the time of 4 am and the Good Morning, Sweetheart..) goes on about 4 times a day. She forgets I was around at all until I reenter the room. Never fails to crack me up.

So, that is the up to date story. I will start new blog entries with a status update and then try to write as I normally would. I really haven't been writing a lot lately - just haven't felt like it. I was honored though the other day to find one of my articles selected as lens of the day on Squidoo. Here's the one that hit that high honor (note, there are over 2 million articles on Squidoo):

Taking a Cruse with the elderly

And, here's a few other articles that I've managed to squeak out:

Practical gifts for the very elderly
Things I promised my mom I'd never do
Making Valentine's Day special for a senior citizen

And, the one article that was the hardest to write:
The long goodbye, when your job as a caregiver is coming to an end

So, that is that. I'll update as often as I can. And, you can look forward to the following blog posts:

Mom's 95th birthday party
John's new boat and my trip into the Chesapeake Bay's 38 degree water

I cut her off at the quick tonight...

It's 8:10 pm and Mom starts to get fidgety. I see her glancing sideways at me, returning to neutral position with a loud sigh meant for my ears. I ignore her...keep typing. A few minutes later, she shifts in her chair, glances over at me (she's not all that sly), sighs. Settles back in a bit heavier this time.

A few minutes later, lather, rinse, repeat but the sighs are getting louder. So, before she can say anything about going to bed early, I get up and make her a dessert shooter. That shut her up...until 8:15. I've got a long night coming.

Oh, too, last night, I finally gave into her at 8:30 and put her to bed. I went upstairs at 10 after making sure she was sound asleep. I took up the monitor and put it in bed with me. After finally falling asleep at midnight, I hear this little "Lori...Lori....Lori." I drag myself out of bed, glance at the clock (2 am) and go downstairs. She's sitting up in bed - looks at me and (wait for it) says "Oh, what are you doing up?"....

"Really? REALLY? WHY AM I UP?" And then, in the meekest voice possible, she whispers "Is it time for coffee?" After I assured her (not quite that calmly) it was 2am (she didn't believe me), she laid back down, bitching softly to herself the whole time. It would have been pretty funny if it wasn't 2 am.

One more cute story, Mom, John and I were having dinner in the dining room when I saw another new bruise on her arm. Not sure where this one came from but I told her that, if someone didn't know me, they'd think I was abusing her. She looks at me and says "If you're not abusing me, you're yelling at me." Cracked us all up.

Gertie - augh...

Haven't written in quite a while - getting Mom settled back into the house where she's doing quite well. In fact, she's doing so well I'm going to have her bed moved back to her bedroom upstairs this week.

Anyway, just wanted to hop on and recreate a "conversation" we just had. Mom is in her chair, legs up, oxygen on. She starts to fiddle with the oxygen tube, as is  her wont. I yell over (she can't hear unless I'm at 100 decibels...) and tell her to "LEAVE YOUR OXYGEN ALONE." She looks at me, scowls and says "You don't need to yell at me"....

About 3 seconds later, literally, she looks at me and says "Can I take this off now?" "Ok" I say, a decible 75.

"Huh?" is her response. "OK!!!!! TAKE IT OFF" -

"I said you don't have to yell at me". Someone, please, help me.

So, she takes off her oxygen and, honest Injun, she looks at me 30 seconds later and says "Can you put this back on me?"

The little hair I have left is about to fall out on its own. "NO! YOU JUST TOOK IT OFF."

She contemplates this for about 10 seconds and, in the sweetest little voice, she says "You would if you loved me."

She won.

Inspiring others

Picture was taken yesterday morning, Thanksgiving, at the rehab. Mom is always so glad to see either Bobo or Rita! And, the dogs are really surprised to see her too. I've got Matee and Hops signed up to visit also. I rarely make it through the hallway without some of the residents stopping me to see whichever dog I'm toting along. It's sweet to see the smiles on these elderly patients. For some of them, it's the highlight of their day.


Mom is working hard at her rehab but I'm having a problem getting calories into her. I've got her on her appetite enhancer but she's not particularly interested in eating. Without calories, there's not much reserve energy for rehab so she knows the importance of eating. My new goal for her is 1500 calories a day. We'll see how that goes.


I've always been in awe of Mom's internal strength but, each and every day now, I'm inspired more and more by her will. She so wants to come home and I so want her home. She's really working hard to make that dream a reality.


I'm always surprised to read the nice comments left on my Squidoo articles but the comment below is one of my favorites. It's from a new online friend, Leslie - she left it on my Death and Dying - the final moments of life on earth article. I'm reposting with her permission.


Such a beautiful lens. My mother died this Memorial Day. She chose hospice since she wanted to (and succeeded in this) discontinue all her meds in the hospital and nursing home - but she only lived for four days of the hospice care. She was in such great pain that living had become torture.

You present a passage that I can relate to, as I was the only family present for the last months and especially the last weeks and days. Thanks for emphasizing the beauty of sending the dying parent off with loving statements of care, and reminders of how glad you are to have had them for a parent. That's what I did (after we had used every moment possible during the dying month to express our caring), along with prayers - it just seemed the right thing to do.

I read this lens before and it was such an encouragement to me, but I never really thanked you. Presenting information like this is a real gift, and I congratulate you. You did encourage me to not only concentrate on what is really important, you also caused me to think twice about becoming active in the squidoo community, and for that I thank you also.


Leslie also added the below in an email to me:


We are all in this life together and we need to support one another.


Boy, she's right on that one! Leslie is a 12 year cancer survivor (!) and writes some beautiful articles about her experiences. Please visit her profile at squidoo by clicking the following link: Papier's Lensmaster page. 


I'm very thankful to my online friends and my personal friends for supporting Mom and me through this latest health scare. Your visits to the nursing home really brighten her day, and mine. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.


And, a special thank you to Kim and her family for the visit yesterday (Thanksgiving) and the food you made us take along. Kim's son, Alex, entertained us with some great tunes on the piano - he's very gifted. In fact, Kim is raising two wonderful young men - her youngest son, Mitchell, is quite the artist!


And, a big thank you to Bobbi for the food you prepared for mom and the laughter you shared with us last night. John and I had probably the most memorable Thanksgiving ever. It turned out to be pretty wondrous. And, again, for that, I'm very thankful.

Mom's physical therapy yesterday

I couldn't post a video on Mom's caringbridge.org site but here is a video of her morning session of PT yesterday.

Satisfaction

I started writing online with eHow a few years ago just to have something to do. I had no idea one could make money monthly by writing online but quickly fell into the "make more" trap. Today, things are different.

eHow shut down their program so I've moved over to Squidoo where I write mostly about dessert shooters or articles about the elderly. The dessert shooter articles actually make money but the ones about the elderly? Not so much. What I do reap from my elder care articles though are wonderful comments like the below which I'm posting anonymously but with permission:

it is indeed what we have is very special! and we have come to know each other through our work, so as your work is very special to you and mine to me then that makes our friendship special too! my mum was diagnosed with Cancer, we were very "young" carers, my little brother just could not handle it, as my dad had passed suddenly the year before too, and she just wanted to come "home". I have never written about it as it is a hard one, but I follow your writing and think if you can do it and help others (already you have helped Eveyln and her family and relieve their worries etc) then I could too, so really you are an inspiration. and yes we had some wonderful times with mum, who throughout everything kept her sense of humour and I see the same twinkle in your mums eye  Have a great Day Lori!


So, even if my Squidoo articles don't earn me much money, they are earning me more than money can buy - that ability to be supportive to others. And, isn't that nice?


Here's a few of my more recent articles:


Preventing bedsores in the elderly


American attitudes toward the elderly


Anatomy of a caregiver - what makes me tick

Handicapped bathroom needs for the elderly

Adjusting to a quiet home

Picture to the right is Mom after her very first physical therapy session. She worked so hard to get strong. Mom has always been my hero and I've always been aware of her inner strength but never more so than the last week. She battled her way out of horrible pain and is on the mend.

Last night was the first night ever that John and I were alone in the house. We've been together 4 years now so it was really going to be a special night - until I thought I was getting the flu.

I was in Mom's thousand degree rehab room all day yesterday, sitting in a chair. I was pale, shaky, dizzy, and sweaty all day yesterday. I had my temperature taken by the nurse: 98.3. Weird. No fever yet I felt like I had one. I made sure to stay as far away from Mom as I could while still tending to her needs - an interesting feat. Note to self: buy stock in antibiotic hand wash...

Anyway, John brought Gizmo to the rehab center at 4 and I had Rebecca coming in at 5. I briefed her and got her schedule so we're covered the rest of the week - mostly covered. I have Rebecca and Carina and possibly one other caregiver and me. But, I've digressed...

John and I came home and he gave me some Pho soup (great stuff). I almost immediately felt better. I think I was just dehydrated! And, when I think about it, I was in that stuffy, hot room all day and I don't think I even had a sip of water. I'm totally fine this morning but I scared myself enough to get a flu vaccine today.

Getting myself cleaned up and back to the hospital here in a bit. The house is just too quiet. Mom is a little thing but there is a pretty good amount of activity that happens around her. I hear noises and start to react and then remember that she's not here right now. At the moment, it's ok but, when the day comes that she's not here for good...well, that might be another story. That's where Key West comes in.

Off to get cleaned up and back to the rehab center as I want to make sure I'm there for her PT.

Here's an article I wrote yesterday about adjusting to rehab. I've gotten some beautiful comments from my online caregiver friends about this one.