Saturday, September 6, 2008
Strange Surprise of a Day
Movement for 9/6/08:
- Yesterday led me to believe that Mom was in "recovery" from, well, something, who knows what. I was expecting a day in which she was at least as mobile as yesterday. I was wrong. Although it took no more than the usual effort to arouse her and move her to a sitting position on the bed and she was in good humor, easier to coax into first conversation than is often the case, although she rose fairly easily from the bed and walked, with environmental and my help, into the bathroom, more slowly than when she's at her "best", to be sure, but she did it, our bath was full of good humor and although she stood for groin bathing with more, rather than less difficulty, she stood well, something about all this told me to cut the groin part of the bathing short and get her lower half dressed as quickly as possible so she wouldn't collapse.
- Something else told me to ask her if she thought she could make it into the dinette walking, rather than just assume this. I can't put my finger on what it was. But, it was a good hunch. Typically, if she's feeling good enough to walk, she not only refuses the wheel chair, she initiates the following, "I know you like that wheel chair," she says, at which point I interrupt and say, "No, I don't, but sometimes it's necessary so I don't have to scrape you up off the floor on our way to our destination," to which she responds, "...well, I don't like it and I don't need it." This bit of conversation didn't take place today.
- Although breakfast went well and she was not more or less engaged and chatty as usual, once again something lead me to ask, once she was standing for movement into the living room, if she felt she could make it on her own. It seemed to me that she probably could, but I asked anyway. "Well," she said, with what I thought was a teasing twinkle in her eye, "I just don't know..."
"Mom," I lightly scolded her, "I need a truthful answer, not a tease. You haven't been all that agile, lately, and I need to know if you think you can walk and walker into the living room and over to your chair."
She was visibly surprised that I thought she was teasing. "I'm serious."
"You don't think you can make it?" I was surprised, but held it out of my voice.
"That's right."
"What is it that makes you unsure?"
"Well, I'm not sure."
"Is it your legs or something else?"
"It's hard to say."
"Is it your energy level?"
"That sounds about right."
"Okay. Sorry to keep you standing so long," she had begun to slowly sink back into the chair, "sit. I'll get the wheel chair." - At this point, she's still up. we're watching The Ten Commandments. I expect she'll want to take a nap at the intermission. At this point, I can't say what her movement preference to the bathroom and bedroom will be, but, whatever it is, I'll take her word for it. If she decides she wants to try to walker and walk it, the wheel chair will be right behind her. Just in case.
- She did, indeed, walker and walk her way to a nap; with some difficulty...it took her the length of the living room to go from wobbly to fairly secure on her feet, but she did it, and the steps, and the rest of the way. She did the same when going to bed, and brushed her teeth at the sink without a problem. One her way to the bedroom, though, she lost her footing, although she didn't collapse, she merely stopped. I brought the wheelchair up behind her, but she refused it, telling me that "I just need to catch my breath." She actually didn't catch her breath, but her determination rallied her all the way to her bed, where, after dropping to the mattress, she said, "I must have had quite a day! I thought I almost wasn't going to make it!" but, she did. Good for her. Every day I have some reason to think, "Damn, I admire that woman's courage." Today, this episode was the reason.