Loading ...It’s 6am and I suppose the best I can hope for is a short nap. I’ve been up several times during the night to administer morphine.
Not to myself, it may surprise you to find.
Mom is no longer afraid of the stuff. I mean, her fear was unfounded and histrionic in the first place, but that’s what the war on drugs does. Keeps solid information away from people, and replaces it with propaganda. “One pain-pill and you’re a junkie for life, buddy.”
But still, she was afraid of morphine, and now she’s not. I don’t know if its because she’s discovered that it really does help her breathe better, and it isn’t going to knock her out or get her high (not with that tiny dose anyway), or if she just thinks she may as well, because she’s dying. I worry about her giving up.
And no, I’m not in denial, I just want her to make the best of what time she has left. And that’s getting harder to do.
I know she wants to rehabilitate that left arm. But I can also see it ain’t likely to happen. Her left side is gradually getting worse. Her arm is pretty much completely numb, her left foot is dragging. When she stands - which isn’t often - the entire left side of her body sags. Her speech is slurred, but I don’t know if she’s noticed yet. I don’t know if she’s lost her sense of humor, or if she just has difficulty smiling. Maybe both.
She can’t get to the toilet by herself anymore, and she’s like me - bladder like a walnut. She has to drink a gallon of water to swallow all those pills, so she’s up going all night. She calls me and I wake up, get her to the potty, get her back in bed. The short trip causes respiratory distress, so I give her a dose of liquid morphine, and sit up with her until she’s breathing better.
I don’t sleep much.
She’ll be waking up in ten minutes. She’s supposed to go to Abbeville today with my sister to visit my brother. I don’t know if that’s a good idea or not, but he’s insisting on seeing her. See, today’s her birthday.
Talk about hard to buy for. What do you get someone for their last birthday? I discussed it with my sister and the conversation went something like this:
Her: I don’t know what to get her.
Me: Neither do I.
Her: I mean… you know.
Me: Yeah, I know.
I just decided to get her a few things she needs, and for the rest, let actions speak louder than gifts. Make a good meal with her favorite foods, and something peachy for dessert. She love peaches, and despite everything else, she still has an enormous appetite. If eating is still one of the few things she can enjoy, then dammit, she’ll have what she wants for every meal.
Alarm Clock.
Buy me a beer!
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I am so very sorry that all of this is happening.
I do hope that her birthday can be peaceful and filled with peaches.
My love to you both.
We’re having grilled chicken, cheesy potatoes, two kinds of beans, rolls, peach pie.
Her breathing seems to be improving a bit today after the last few nights. She decided not to go to Abbeville, which is probably for the best. I know my brother will be upset, but Mom’s health comes first.
My sister came by, so I got a chance for a short nap. Now mom’s taking a nap, since she didn’t get much more sleep than I did.
From what you said, it is probably best that she stay home on her birthday, despite how upset your brother may be. As you say, her health comes first.
Glad to hear that she is doing better with her breathing. And it sounds like your sister is being a help too, which is good.
And the meal sounds delicious!!!