Your name ain’t Pisa …

Mom’s doing much better compared to a few weeks ago, and is slowly regaining muscle strength and coordination.  The steroids and physical therapy (a physical therapist comes to the house three times a week) seem to be helping.  She’s now able to whirl about using a walker, though one of us is always behind her to offer physical and emotional support.  Like always, every time we pay her a compliment (e.g. you’re moving really well, mom) she says thank you, in the softest voice (forever polite).  Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays tend to be busy days for her as waves of nurses, physical therapists, and the like make their house calls.  She had three visitors within two hours yesterday, which is a lot… considering.  Thankfully, we’ve hired an in-house assistant to help five hours a day.  She’s terrific with mom, and is medically trained to help with lifts, etc., which helps take the pressure off. 





Though she’s mostly doing well, we do have our tough days when her balance is off and she whips out the Quasi Motto (she leans forward and to the left).   We’ve had to prop her up with pillows when she sits just to keep her straight.  As we tell her, your name ain’t Pisa and we ain’t in Italy, so...  She's able to maneuver pretty well, but pivoting into a chair or turning into a bathroom continue to be a bit tricky.  When's she’s tired, she'll reach a point where she simply can't move her feet and the Elivs legs kick in.  We call this the 'mama shut-down’.  If she stands for too long, her legs will eventually give way completely, and that's pretty scary.  She also has the tendency to rush and push the walker too far out in front.  Earlier today, she almost fell flat on her face, but thankfully, I had my hands on her waist -- we now support her as she walks -- and was able to catch her before she tumbled down.  I think the prospect of falling startled her, and she began to cry.  Dad, Diane and I rallied behind her, and helped her to her mechanical chair.  We’re always there to help with words of encouragement (D said yesterday, “now turn toward your pretty daughter” … I, of course, said “wrong way”) and on tough days, will support her weight with ours to take some of the pressure off her legs. 





Car outings are another problem.  When she’s rested, she’s able to help swing her legs around and transfer from the car to the wheelchair fairly easily.  When she’s tired, it’s nearly impossible.   For instance, yesterday mom had difficulty getting out of the car after eating at Joseppi’s.  No matter how hard she tried, she was unable to move her legs/feet, as if there was a communication block from her brain to her legs.  Unfortunately, there's a similar communication block with her bladder, etc., and if we’re not quick, accidents happen.  Thankfully, we’ve developed a fairly efficient system to help mom through 'it' once it's happened.  Though she's able to walk to the bathroom with support, she needs help ‘finishing the job’ so one of us is always around with a glove and a sani-wipe.  We (the girls) have been told that chemo can be harmful to women of 'child-bearing age'.  (God bless 'em for being optimistic...;)).  The bathroom moments are nice bonding opportunities. 





We’re managing the tough times, and enjoying the good… it’s nice to see her smile, through it all.  -- J