Tag Archive | family

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, Mom Headshot 12-9-17and 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.

Mom and Sarah 12-9-17

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!”

IMG_0527

 

Advertisements

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.

Thanksgiving 2017

 

Stalled

Mom’s recovery progress seems to have stalled. Friday when the physical therapist was working with her, in the half hour or so he had her off oxygen, her sats dropped from 93 to 83. I called Dr. G’s office about that and he ordered a chest x-ray. Until we get the results we’re to keep her on oxygen 24/7.

Yesterday I was able to take her to church for the first time in 6 weeks. She was happy to be there and particularly enjoyed the attention from her friends in the seniors Sunday school class, but she had some trouble transferring from the wheelchair to the pew and (especially) back again. When I got her home after the service, she was ready for a nap!  I noticed when I picked her up for church that her left hand  and wrist were very swollen and puffy. It had improved a little by the time we were driving home, so I decided it wasn’t worth spending our Sunday afternoon at Urgent Care when I’d be seeing her again today.

She seemed tired today, much less perky than she was for church yesterday. When we pulled in to the parking lot for the Imaging Center, I checked her O2 level and it was only 89 — even though she’d been continually on oxygen. Feeling thankful that we were getting the x-ray done, I finagled the wheelchair and the portable oxygen tank inside and even managed to fit both of us and the equipment in the small dressing room, so I could help her get undressed and into a gown. When the x-ray techs told me she was going to have to stand while they took the images, I explained that her legs are weak and her balance is very poor — so they gave me a heavy lead smock and let me stand beside her, my hand on the small of her back to keep her steady. Mom clung to the sides of the board as if to a life raft in deep water, but she managed to stay standing with her back straight and followed their breathing instructions while they took the images. Her PT would have been proud.

The swelling in her left hand and forearm was about the same as when I left her yesterday, and I noticed her feet are now swollen also. While we were waiting our turn, I called the cardiologist’s office about that. Her doctor is off today, so the receptionist gave the message to a nurse who consulted with one of the other cardiologists and called me back. They said it “doesn’t sound like a heart issue” and recommended she increase her Lasix dosage for the next 48 hours and call back if the situation hasn’t improved by then.

While I’m relieved they don’t seem concerned about it, I’d sure like to know what’s going on. Between this and the difficulty keeping her satured with oxygen, it’s obvious that something isn’t right. For now, we wait.

If it’s not one thing…

Friday was one of those days. Mom had her first session with the physical therapist, and it did not go well. He had her lying on her back on the bed doing leg stretches and she was having trouble breathing, and he got snippy with me because I “undermined his authority” by responding to her needs without clearing it with him first. Even with the oxygen cannula in, her sats didn’t get above 91 and she was laboring so hard to breathe that he cut the session short and let her go back to sitting in her recliner.

I was so relieved that she already had an appointment with the cardiologist that afternoon because I felt sure it was a CHF (congestive heart failure) episode. But the cardiology PA who treats her didn’t hear any congestion in her lungs or heart. They had the results of Monday’s labs sent over and noted that she’s almost dangerously anemic, which might explain the difficulty getting enough oxygen even when the fluid build-up is gone. Since we are seeing the kidney specialist next Monday, and this is something he’s been tracking, cardiology PA left it for him to determine the best course of treatment. I took Mom home and she almost immediately fell asleep in her recliner.

Worn out from a stressful day, at 9:00 p.m. I got into my pajamas, poured a glass of wine and settled in for a West Wing marathon on Netflix. At 9:30, I got a call from the owner of the board and care: Mom had a nosebleed that thet couldn’t stop and they were taking her to the ER. I met them there shortly before 10:00, and it was a LONG night. They got her into triage very fast, considering the unusually large number of people in the waiting room, and had a quick temporary fix to stop the bleeding.

Mom nosebleed ER picBut then, as you can see in the photo, they sent us back out to the waiting room. Where we waited… and waited… and waited. It was cold in that room and Mom was thankful for the cozy flannel pajamas, though she was a little embarrassed about being out in public without her dentures in.  And though she complained that the clamp on her nose was uncomfortable, I would have been thankful to have one myself when a young woman sitting across from us suddenly vomited.

It was three hours from the time we were checked in until Mom saw a doctor. He removed a massive blood clot from her nose and thought that would solve the problem, but the bleeding started up again. The culprit, a broken blood vessel, was too high up in her nose for the doctor to see or cauterize, so they had to insert a balloon catheter in her nose to stop the bleeding — a last resort because it’s “uncomfortable” (the doctor’s word). Mom cried out in pain when it was inserted and kept exclaiming that she couldn’t stand it because it hurt so much.  It was 3:00 a.m. by the time this happened, and 3:30 by the time we were leaving the ER. The owner of the care home and her husband had waited with us the whole time, and they drove Mom home once she was discharged. I got in my car and immediately began to sob from exhaustion and helplessness at not being able to ease her pain.

I got about five hours of sleep before I got another call from the care home telling me that Mom had pulled the balloon halfway out during the night. I drank a big mug of strong coffee, threw some clothes on, and headed over there. The balloon catheter was supposed to be left in place until Monday, when we had been directed to see an ENT doctor to remove it. I called the ENT office and left a message for the on-call doctor, who called me back quite promptly and said that we could leave it as is unless it started bleeding again. Thankfully, that did not happen. And the balloon didn’t hurt when it was only half inserted, so Mom was much more comfortable for the duration of the weekend than she would have been otherwise.

All’s well that ends well, I guess.

Grateful

Filled with gratitude tonight. I am grateful for my aunt and uncle, who drove all the way from Ohio so my aunt could see her sister… and grateful that the timing of their visit meant I could go do an 8-hour workshop on Sunday and not be distracted by worrying about Mom. Aunt Alice took this picture of us.

Mom Sep 3 2017

I am grateful for my niece, Sarah, who has visited her grandma several times (both at the hospital and the SNF), so that I can have a break. I am thankful for the friends from church who visited her in the hospital while I was away in Oregon, and for all the family who have called or sent cards or flowers. I appreciate my friend Joy who visited today and brought a new kind of nutrition shakes for Mom to try, since it’s still a struggle to get enough calories in her. Also Joy’s visit meant I could take a couple hours off and go to my restorative yoga class, which I really needed!

I am so, so grateful that Mom is finally feeling like herself again — that she’s not only physically stronger today, but has less anxiety and improved cognition. Today was a good day. She was up in the wheelchair for much of the day; she got a shampoo, cut and style by the beautician who comes to the facility every Wednesday; and when I came back around 2:00 pm she was able to tell me everything they’d served her for lunch, and also talked about Sarah’s visit the night before. So much of the time Mom doesn’t remember that someone visited ONE HOUR before, so that she was able to recall Sarah reading to her last night from her book of daily meditations on scripture feels like a small miracle to me.

It also feels like a miracle that even though some staff member screwed up and forgot to put her back on oxygen when returning her to her room (she was without oxygen from at least 4:15 pm until a little after 7:00, when I arrived to question it), she didn’t have trouble breathing and remained cheerful and talkative… and when I asked them to check her oxygen level, it was still at 94.  I’m so glad for this sign of her returning health that I’m not even angry about what could have been a dangerous error. (Well, anger might come later. A complaint will definitely be made.)

Right now, I’m just grateful.

Christmas Trip, Part 2: Ritual and Tradition

Every other year, all through my childhood, we spent Christmas in Ohio with my mom’s family. (On alternate years, my dad had to take his turn as the on-call anesthesiologist.) I looked forward to those family Christmases so much, I think I started counting the days in September. The big family tradition was a Christmas Eve potluck, the whole clan coming together at my Uncle Fritz and Aunt Ellen’s house. I fondly recall my cousin Betty’s delicious pies and singing Christmas carols all together and Uncle Fritz dressing up as Santa to hand out the presents. I remember, as my generation grew up and started having kids, how crowded that little house became — tables laid end to end from the kitchen all the way to the front porch — and how full of love and laughter it always was. I remember falling asleep on Christmas Eve next to my cousin Susan, with her brother camped out on the floor beside the bed so my parents could have his room. “Shhhhh!” he would say. “Did you hear that? It sounded like sleighbells!”

Until this year I hadn’t been back to Ohio at the holidays for over two decades. The torch has been passed to the next generation, and my cousin Frank and his wife are now the hosts for Christmas Eve. Over the years the exchanging of gifts has evolved into its own ritual. Everyone brings one gift and they are passed around the circle as my cousin Robby reads The Night Before Christmas. It was fun to see him in that role, to watch him be Uncle Rob to a whole new generation of cousins.

IMG_3187

After the story and the gift exchange came the carol singing, which has always been my favorite part of Christmas Eve. Songbooks were handed around and, as I heard my family’s voices raised together in song, I realized just how much I had missed being a part of that. I got a lump in my throat when, on a lyric about Mary with the babe in her arms, my eye fell on my cousin with her toddler daughter sleeping on her lap.

I think my favorite moment all night, though, was when the group skipped “O Christmas Tree.” My cousin Shellyn, sitting next to me, tried to insist that we sing it but wasn’t being heard… so I just started belting out “O Christmas Tree.” Shellyn and her sisters joined in, and we drowned out the other song until everybody was singing “O Christmas Tree.” For a few moments I was a teenager again, instigating with my cousins.

Mom loves the singing, too, and she loved seeing the whole family at once. And Betty’s pies are as good as ever!

IMG_3200

Me, Mom, and my Aunt Alice – Christmas Eve

 

I’m a big one for rituals and traditions, always have been. It makes me melancholy to consider that my particular branch of our family tree ends with me, that there is no next generation to whom I can hand down the boxes of my mom’s old family photos or into the toe of whose Christmas stockings I can place the traditional tangerine. But my cousins on Mom’s side are keeping the family tree healthy and I think our traditions are in good hands.

Christmas Trip, Part 1

Mom and I are in Ohio, staying with her sister for the next week. We arrived late Saturday night after a long travel day: flight from Burbank to Phoenix, rushing through PHX with a wheelchair attendant to just make our 3.5-hour flight to Cleveland, then a 90-minute drive in my cousin’s car. Mom was perky the whole way, unconcerned about the tight connection or the turbulence for the first hour of the second flight, chatting happily with her nephew as we drove. I was dead on my feet exhausted as I helped her brush her teeth and get into her pajamas, and asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

Yesterday I woke up before my body or brain were ready to function, worried about Mom waking up in an unfamiliar room and not knowing how to find the bathroom or her clean Depends. To my surprise, she was already up and sitting in an easy chair by the Christmas tree, working a crossword puzzle, completely comfortable. As I helped her get dressed, I asked if it had been disconcerting waking up in a strange room. She shrugged that off and told me “I’ve stayed in this room lots of times. It’s very familiar.”2015-12-20 14.35.57

We had a busy Sunday with lots of family dropping in and out all afternoon – drank too many cups of coffee and ate too many sweets – and Mom enjoyed every minute of it.

For the second night in a row, I slept as if sedated and had to drag myself out of bed to get Mom up. Being alert to her every need all day long takes it out of me. We were having cereal and coffee in the dining room when she looked at me and asked “Whose house is this?” I told her we are at Alice’s house and today is December 21, and she smiled happily. “It’s almost Christmas!”

Her feet were very swollen yesterday, likely from the long flights, so this morning I checked with her nurse and gave her a full 20 mg Lasix tablet instead of her usual half. She also had some digestive distress, which wasn’t fun for either of us since she didn’t make it to the bathroom on time. Luckily we have easy access to a washer and dryer. And nothing got messy that couldn’t be easily cleaned. I count that as a win. Also, thankfully, it passed quickly and she was soon feeling better. I’m also counting it as a win that I’ve remembered all four of her daily medication dosages on time for three days now. Better put reminders on my calendar in case I just jinxed myself by saying that.

I went out to run some errands with my aunt this afternoon and picked up some diabetic socks for Mom. Hopefully those will help with the swelling. I also picked up a bottle of Tylenol and a back pain patch for myself. I seem to have strained a muscle in my lower back, probably from bending over to roll a suitcase through the airport after the extendable handle came apart. It hurts to bend down or sit too long, and I feel like we’re quite the pair of frail old ladies right now… and all of this gives me a new level of respect for all the family caregivers out there who are coping with their own health challenges while caring for an elderly parent.

But it’s worth every minute of stress and aggravation, every twinge of aching muscles, to see her so happy and content here. And we haven’t even gotten to Christmas yet!

IMG_3147.JPG