Update: Today started with a little better news. I spoke with my father's assigned physician (first time I have had the pleasure. Just my dumb luck calling the time I did, I suppose). My father was more alert than he had been previously, knowing his name and the town he was in. It is the first good news we have had since Sunday.
The Lumbar Penetration also occurred under sedation. Data will be trickling in over the coming 24 hours, but we do know that he does not have meningitis (low probability, but now ruled out). In the evening my father was resting, apparently as well as he has since he arrived, and was not too agitated. Still confused though. They also took an EEG, which we are waiting for a neurologist to review.
Visit: Yesterday I stopped by and visited my mother.
Visits - especially without my father - are a very short affair. Five, perhaps ten minutes. We go through the now-standard round of conversation now: How are you feeling? What have you been doing? How is the food? Are you reading any new books?
The answers are becoming the same: Feeling okay. Some activities, although she does not really remember any of them particularly. The food is "okay". She has some books, but she does not remember the titles of them.
And then she always asks "When can I come home"?
Sigh. The moment. It seems to come now with every visit. I smile and say "Soon Mom, you are working on your memory".
I fill her in a bit with goings-on of The Ravishing Mrs. TB and Na Clann, and then suddenly there is nothing left to say. "I will see you soon Mom". She thanks me profusely for stopping by and always waits by the window as I back out and waves goodbye as I pull out into the driveway.
On one hand, these conversations are not that different than ones we have had in the last year, only shorter in length. So in that sense there is no difference.
But there is a part of me now that sighs when I leave, the part of me that knows that "soon" is "not really soon" and that this conversational interchange is likely to become the same one - or some version of it -for the rest of our relationship.
It is not that I will not continue to go - I will, as long as she is able to engage. But the resetting of expectations around them has become harder than I anticipated.
Reality continues to close in, whether or not I choose to see it.
It's always hard to see our parents grow old, both for their sakes and for ours. Glad to hear the good news about your father. As with everything else, I reckon it's always one day at a time.
ReplyDeleteIt is Leigh. It certainly does give me pause about the process - which I know is coming for myself as well. It is a grim reminder of what a Fallen World this one can be.
DeleteCan she have plants TB? Can you take her small gifts? Take pics of the house and such and let her see them on the phone? Can you be truthful with her, are are things too far gone?
ReplyDeleteGlen, we did take photos down with her - as they recommended, older ones of family that she will still remember. I think we can take other things - all made much harder by the Fact of The Plague; everything is filtered through something else.
DeleteI am not sure about the truth - not so much that I think she could not handle it, but that she simply would not remember it, or try and argue her way out of it. And we would have the same discussion the next day. She might be able to weather the daily discussions; I am not sure I could.
Sounded like a good day considering all that has happened in such a short time.
ReplyDeleteAnd glad to see the daffodil :-)
It was a good day, the first relatively good one in a while.
DeleteAnd yes, I thought of you when you made the comment! I remembered there was a small one I had taken a picture of - and then I had a reason to display it!
Hang in there, you're a good son.
ReplyDeleteThank you Sarge. In my heart I know all of this is the right thing; it just sometimes feels like it is not.
DeleteAnd thanks again for your writings. For 10 minutes a day at least, I can lose myself in something other than the reality of all of this.
When my grandmother was recovering from two different broken hips and the last time my grandfather entered into rehab and never quite made it out, I too had plenty of conversations that went just like you described. After awhile I took matters into my own hand and did one of several things. If they were fairly lucid, I took a digital recorder and asked questions about their childhood and then saved those files to my computer. I still listen to them today and it never fails to bring a smile to my face. Another thing I did was bring a deck of cards and play their favorite card game. Finally, I join them in an activity that they wanted such as putting puzzles together with my grandma or just inviting others into my grandfather's room and talking about the old days. All those take time though when trying to hold down a job from afar. I was fortunate in that I wasn't gainfully employed at the time and only had to get back in time to meet the school bus.
ReplyDeleteThat is a great idea Ed, and something I will try once the weather gets a bit better - right now all we can do is either visit through a window or visit in a courtyard in the depths of Winter, not the greatest activity.
DeleteThe job from afar thing tugs at my mind. Sooner or later, I will need to go back (in all fairness, I do miss my family and the animals and Iai). I think we will have to come up with a different accommodation.
Ed's idea of the recorder is excellent. My mom was still pretty chatty about 2 subjects. She was a programmer back in the 60's when computers were so new along with books. While I understood zero about her programming it was a few moments of rationality for her. Books were something she was always reading so we talked about whatever book she was reading. Her facility had a wall of bookcases and if she was close to finishing a book we would walk and find another. Show her the pic of the daffodil and ask if she remembers when she planted them. Ask about her past not the present. Maybe her parents, siblings or why her and your dad bought that particular ranch. You never know what different questions might trigger. Take care of yourself and all our prayers are with you and your sister.
ReplyDeleteSqueeky's Mom, thanks for sharing the story (What a cool piece of history!). Unfortunately my mother is farther down the road already: she really does not remember what she reads and when I have asked, does not seem that interested. I am trying to feel my way around the questions as I do not know what will trigger a memory and what will trigger "Why am I here and when can I go home?" Hopefully if The Plague ever lessens to the point that we can visit in person and not through a window, such things will be easier.
DeleteBeen catching up on your blog. I know how ya feel having just went through the same recently myself. MY ordeal was a pretty fast moving one though. Best of luck to you and yours.
ReplyDeleteThanks Preppy. Appreciate the good thoughts and the empathy. This has not been the easiest two week period.
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