Diane’s mentioned this before, but Herbie’s quite protective of mom. He’s always been our ‘sensitive puppy’ but, with mom’s illness, his hovering, and otherwise neurotic behavior, has reached new levels. When people come over, he’ll frantically find his ‘nookie’ and gnaw on it as if it were the persons face. When she sits in her chair, he sits on or in between her legs. And when mom naps, he insists on sleeping either on her, or pretty darn close. I’m surprised mom hasn’t kicked him in the process. He sleeps so close that, on occasion, he’ll be in the line of fire for a certain nighttime watery liquid. One morning, Diane found the little guy a bit damp from her bed sheets. Now that’s dedication!
In other news, mom nearly took a tumble this afternoon. She’s been having problems moving her left foot/leg and has been walking on her tippy toes in order to help swing it through. On this occasion, she was just about to reach her bedroom when she pushed the walker too far forward and lost her balance. Most of the time, we’re able to pull her back; however, this time, she tripped on her left foot and fell against the wall. Rosie, her assistant, was guiding her through the room and I waited behind just to offer support. Rosie was able to stop her from falling completely while I ran up to help pull her back on her feet. This was the first time for mom to fall in Rosie’ company, so I think Rosie (and mom) was a bit startled. Thankfully, no one was injured – it would have been much different situation had we not been there. I immediately taped a towel against the corner of her dresser, so that if she fell again, she wouldn’t hit a sharp corner.
I feel I must qualify ‘mom’s much better’ with she’s much better than a month ago when she fell septic. That’s not to say she’s now zipping down the hall. In truth, she continues to decline. Her physical and cognitive ability are slightly worse than a few weeks ago, and she’s having more difficulty with incontinence. I find it difficult to write about mom and her symptoms. In a way, I’m like Herbie – I want to protect her -- from what, I don’t know. Whereas Craig has explicitly asked us to write honestly about his condition and process, I feel like with mom’s situation, we’re more private. We're all sufficiently protective of each other, but we're especially protective of mom. I remember a time in Denver when a few people were intimidating passersby. As we neared them, we (children) automatically formed a barrier between them and mom. This was a few years back when glioblastoma was just a funny word. I suppose we’re still forming that barrier and, in a way, trying to protect her from, I don’t know, people treating her differently or getting the wrong impression??? It’s hard to explain.
It’s also hard to talk about mom or Craig’s symptoms/decline without giving off the impression that we’re either giving up, or are overly negative. And again, with C, it’s easier: he’d be the first to tell someone that he feels like crap. But, he’d also be quick to say that he’s not giving up. He doesn’t attribute his symptoms with his overall sense of worth or ability. Mom, however, can be pretty hard on herself. She often says I wish I wasn’t such an invalid, or apologizes for being dense. We try our best to positively reframe her symptoms and ability. Like C, she’s very much determined to fight, so it doesn’t take much in the way of encouragement. I think the instinct to positively reframe and to protect mom filters through the way I convey her situation to others. I feel like I’m honest about C, but high-ball mom. And I’m not sure I want to change…
Mom’s snoring as I type … classic. -- J
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