Easter Monday Update

We made it to church for the Easter Sunday service, though Mom complained in the car that she “hurt all over” and was still so weak that I had difficulty getting her out of the car on my own. This was our first service back in the newly remodeled church sanctuary, and I was so grateful to see that they shortened one of the pews near the access ramp to make space for wheelchairs. I don’t think she could have managed transferring into a pew and back out to her chair.

It was good to be back in the church with everyone, and Mom especially enjoyed the choir… and all the people who stopped by her chair to shake her hand or give her a hug around the shoulders and wish her Happy Easter.

On Friday I picked up some urinary tract infection test strips at the drugstore and gave them to her caregivers. This morning they were finally able to get a good urine sample to test (it’s tricky with full incontinence), and the test confirmed what I’d suspected, She has a UTI. I called her primary care doctor, who called in a prescription for antibiotics, which she is starting this evening. I’m hopeful that she’ll be back to her old self again in a few days.

 

Happy Easter from three generations of strong women!

 

A different kind of Christmas

Christmas Eve was a bit of a letdown this year. Mom’s church began renovations on their sanctuary at the beginning of December, so all the services are being held in the Fellowship Hall, which is in the basement. There’s a live feed to a screen in a room on the ground floor for those who can’t manage the stairs, but it’s not the same.  On a regular Sunday, there might be a dozen people in the ground floor room. For the early Christmas Eve service last night, there were six of us, including the two ushers who handed out the battery-powered candles. Mom and I were alone in our row, and she must have asked me six times why we had to sit in the “overflow room” instead of with the rest of the congregation.  Each time I explained about the renovations and the steep flight of stairs to the basement, I felt more frustrated with the church for beginning this renovation project right before Christmas; and I prayed this subpar experience doesn’t end up being her last Christmas Eve service.

The candlelight piece felt particularly lacking. The passing of light from one candle to another until the whole church is aglow has been my favorite part of Christmas Eve services since childhood. It lacks something when everyone turns on their “candles” at the start of Silent Night, instead of passing the light, but it still works in a big sanctuary full of celebrants. Holding our two lights as we sang, unable to see any of the other lights because everyone was sitting behind us, struck me as rather apt for this particular year — and perhaps that was the lesson for me. Sometimes you have to make your own light in the darkness.

Christmas Eve Selfie

Since Mom can no longer manage the steps into my apartment building, we headed to a local restaurant for our turkey dinner after the service.  The restuarant was festively decorated and busier than I had anticipated; and to their credit, the staff provided excellent and very cheerful service. Mom complained about her soup, but she enjoyed the turkey and mashed potatoes… and she ordered a second mug of hot chocolate for dessert. On the drive home, I took a detour to look at Christmas lights, which she always enjoys.

As we pulled onto the freeway, she asked me “Am I staying at your place tonight?” I felt a pang of regret as I explained that I was taking her home (“so you don’t have to struggle with the stairs at my building”) but would come back the next day to open presents — but she didn’t seem unhappy about it.

Our Christmas afternoon was really quite pleasant. I arrived shortly after lunch, bearing Starbucks holiday beverages and a store bought pumpkin pie. The staff set us up right next to the tree to open our presents, and we had the room to ourselves since the other residents were either napping or away with family for the holiday.  We opened our presents one at a time, read the cards aloud to each other, and Mom tried on the festive outfit from my sister. Then we sat at the dining room table to eat our pie and play a couple games of Scrabble.

When the staff started getting ready for dinner, I helped Mom back into her recliner and kissed her goodbye. Merry Christmas, Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow.

Celebrating her 90th Christmas, and she still enjoys her books!

Another year, another holiday party

Today was the annual holiday luncheon at Mom’s care home. Yesterday I took her to get a haircut and roller set, and the stylist did a really nice job. Mom looked lovely in her new sparkly green Christmas top, and she seemed to be feeling pretty good. She enjoyed the Honeybaked ham and, especially, the assortment of fancy deserts like macarons, ladyfingers and bon bons. And because it was a special occasion, they let her have 2 1/2 cups of coffee with her meal. (We just won’t tell the nephrologist about that.) My niece was late arriving, and it gets hard to make small talk with Mom these days, so I broke out the Scrabble game to keep us entertained.

Again, it was one of those parties where the guests only talk to the residents they came to visit and to the staff. But Jenny did make a point of introducing us to her brother (at least, I think that’s who he was) as he was seeing her to her room before departing. I also overheard another resident’s daughter talking about her 90th birthday next Thursday, the 14th. My dad’s birthday was December 14th. He would have been 92 this year. As I was sharing that with them, I realized that it was 10 years ago this month that he died. It feels like another lifetime. I was a different person back then, and so was Mom.

We both enjoyed catching up with Sarah, who took a break from finals week to come celebrate with her grandma.

I’ve been a little short on holiday spirit this year, but it sure was nice to see Mom feeling festive and enjoying the celebrations. Mostly I’m just thankful that we made it through another year and she’s still kicking… or, as she always used to say, “perking right along!”

 

Thankful

Thanksgiving was a little different this year. I’ve had to accept the fact that the days when I could have Mom come and stay with me for an entire holiday weekend are over. The seven steps into my building are impossible for her to manage now. My best friend graciously offered her ground floor apartment for our co-hosted Thanksgiving dinner this year, and I was thankful that Mom was able to join us for the meal. Mom usually enjoys our lively gatherings, but wasn’t feeling very sociable this time. She was too tired to even concentrate on working a crossword puzzle and barely stayed awake long enough to eat. I took her back to her care home before dessert had even been served, but I saved her some pumpkin pie.

I brought the pie over today, right after lunch. Mom was, again, almost too tired to eat, which worries me. As I said to her, “It’s not like you to be uninterested in PIE!” She did finally finish her small slice, then almost immediately started dozing in her recliner. I sat with her for about an hour, watching figure skating on TV and chatting a bit when she woke up long enough to remember that I was there.

They’re tapering her off the supplemental oxygen during the day, per doctor’s orders, and her saturation has been staying around 94-95. But when I checked it today, she was only at 91. I sure hope this isn’t an indicator of fluid building up in her lungs again. Thankfully, we see the pulmonologist for a follow-up chest x-ray this coming Wednesday.

Despite the changes, I am deeply thankful that Mom is still here with me and that we were able to share Thanksgiving dinner.  I don’t know what Christmas will look like yet, but the only gift I need is to be able to share it with her.