Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The Day After?
Movement for 7/30/08:
- I'm not sure why, although I'm chalking it up to awakening Mom, yesterday, two hours earlier than her 12-hour-sleep-mark, but she was very tired when I awoke her at her 12-hour-sleep-mark today, at 1300. It took a good 15 minutes just to get her sitting at the edge of the bed and another 30 minutes before we began our slow progress into the bathroom. As usual, though, she perked up during bathing, so, so far no wheel chair today; and a definite "No, not today," to my suggestion, at breakfast, during which our conversation was unusually lively, that maybe today would be a good day to wheel around the yard so she could see what's growing (it's all wild stuff) and "supervise" my yard work. "We could take Mr. Man out with us on the harness," I suggested, hoping that might change her mind, but, it didn't. Oh well. I'll keep trying, but, you know, at this point, I'm leaving it up to her. She isn't feeling deprived.
On her way to the bedroom for her nap, as she approached the toilet she noted that "my right knee's giving out." After our pre-nap bathroom routine, though, she was fine, just slow, and refused the wheel chair method of getting into bed. I'm letting her sleep in, at least until 2030 (she went down at 1730) but I'm hoping the smell of the simmering, home made ham and bean soup will arouse her, shortly. - The second half of her day proceeded well. Normal movement to normal places without using the chair. I noticed that standing up was surprisingly easy for her tonight when she arose from her rocker for her last walkering into the bathroom and walking into bed. I congratulated her on standing so easily. I often comment on how well (or, for that matter, how poorly) she performs when standing, walking and walkering. Suddenly, tonight, after my hailing of her standing technique, the absurdity of this hit me. "It must be weird," I said to Mom, not being able to contain a wry chuckle, "to be almost 91 and have people practically applaud every time you stand up!"
She flashed me an ironic grin. "Just wait until you get to be 90," she said, then chuckled, too.
It occurred to me a moment later that she could have meant one of two things: That, either, when you're 90 and in her condition you deserve applause for every successful stand or, when you're 90 and people constantly comment on the quality of every little movement you make, life can officially be labeled "weird".
I didn't ask for confirmation of either.
# posted by Gail Rae @ 19:45 email...
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