The visit to the Old People wasn't as hard as I'd feared - it was more Seinfeldian than anything else. Just in case you are wondering, my mother can repeat information conveyed to her by nurses so precisely and in such detail, a parrot would hang its head in shame. And repeat it, and repeat it, and repeat it, until a parrot would be screaming, "Shut UP! We Get It!" Then she claims she doesn't understand any of it, but she demonstrated that she does, asked smart questions, etc. The feeding tube ain't rocket science, and as my weak, frail and slightly confused father kept telling her, "You CAN'T kill me if you screw it up." Which is true - it's pretty much common sense, if she'd let herself calm down and tap into her common sense it would be as easy as making coffee. (It really is that mundane.) I did the tough love thing, kept telling her she's making it harder than it really is and in a few days all of this would be second nature - and it will be, if she'll quit telling herself she can't do it. She'll manage. It's not that taxing - kinda boring, really, because he has to sit in a chair or propped up in bed while bags of liquid stuff drip into a port in his abdomen - but it's painless and virtually mindless to set up. Put nutritional substance in bag. Hang bag on stand, turn on. Occasionally squirt water into the port, both for hydration and to keep the damn thing from clogging. It's definitely weird, but it ain't rocket science. She can do it. It's not a lot of work, it's not a lot of anything, and in a few days I think (hope) she'll realize that it's not a big hard thing. It's hard to do Tough Love and offer just a little, but not too much, sympathy, but that's how it has to be.
As for my father's condition - though Dr. Dude didn't have an explanation for his inability to swallow, my money's on the mini-stroke. He's a bit foggy mentally and his voice is different, whatever has impeded those throat muscles weakened his vocal cords. His speech isn't slurred and he's 90% with it, but there's a difference. I think we can cross "scar tissue from throat surgery 20 years ago" off the potential causes list.
I spent last night fretting over today's visit - not the visit, I had no control over what happened there - but about what project to bring to keep my blood pressure from spiking from that weird combination of boredom and stress that is dealing with medical issues. The knitted shawl's rows are getting too long to be easily pick-up and put-downable, and even though the pattern's one of those "a monkey can do it" things that is my speed, I didn't count on myself to be able to count four rows and listen to endless repetition of how hard it all is. So I re-started a frogged project from the past. The All-Season Shawl is one of those patterns that intrigues me because it has such flexibility. It is the boneless chicken breast of crochet patterns - you can doctor it up with skinny yarn, fat yarn, fuzzy yarn, drapey yarn. So I dragged out the big cone of sportweight Softball Cotton and re-started this shawl with a hook one size larger - I'd ripped it in dissatisfaction because it wasn't quite right - almost, but not quite. I went up a hook size to an F and I like it - it loosened up just a bit but didn't lose the pattern. The yarn is an ecru color, I may leave it that color or dye it after it's done. It's flying along at an amazing clip, and I intend to park my ass in bed at 9 and work on it until I pass into a blissful and GodIHope 8 hour long sleep.
8 comments:
i'm with you, as far as the medical thoughts. my grandmother had a very light stroke, and they kept her in the hospital for 2 weeks (she was 96, so they wanted to keep a close eye on her), and i called her a few times. while she sounded the same, i could tell the difference in her speech patterns, and the fact that she was just a tiny bit fuzzy (this lady was sharp enough to make a tack cry, before)in details.
sounds like everything is ok, your mother just needs a confidence boost (or a swift kick in the pants, your choice, lol)
i'm glad things are ratcheting downa bit in the stress department.
and sleep well
I'm glad things went well.
I love that All Seasons Shawl. I recall your mentioning it previously, and I've saved the pattern. One day I'll make it up myself.
The ecru seems boring, but don't underestimate the value of a light-coloured neutral. Especially in an inexpensive cotton. It's something that can be thrown carelessly in the back seat or over a chair and generally dragged around without worry.
dragon knitter: Yep, that's it. "Sharp enough to make a tack cry," I love it! That's my father - and I've seen changes in him over the past couple of years that in retrospect were probably a series of mini-strokes. He's different and I can see it, but until he lost the ability to swallow it wasn't obvious. I think my mother can see it too, but she's trying to ignore it to keep going. All in all, they'll manage for now, and we'll burn the next bridge when we come to it.
geogrrl: It's just such a light ecru - I'd like it more as a coffee color, it'd show less dirt when it lives in the backseat of my car. I'm not sure about dyeing it but I do love the pattern, it's so relaxing! I realized that this is why I have never felt that temptation to spin - I have a stock of pleasantly relaxing patterns that serve the same zoning out, serenity-inducing purpose as spinning. I didn't get into the other part of my day, in which I spent money on yarn - I'll share that tomorrow. I'm ready for bed.
I'm sorry you're having such a hard time. If we were as much trouble as children as our parents seem to be when we're adults, we must have been horrible! I guess everyone's parents get stubborn as they age. I know mine did.
Good luck with the shawl--the one I started last summer is still sitting in the basket. I had such trouble with it that I'm not sure I'll ever finish it.
Ah, I see what you mean. Yep, a coffee colour would be lovely with your wardrobe--at least, considering the colours I've seen you buy. Overdying such a light colour would be easy--perhaps actually dyeing with tea or coffee?
I've been away for a few days so I've just caught up on your week. We've been going through the same health issues with my grandmother. The only thing keeping her alive apparently is hate. Watching her slowly grind the life out of my mother is the worst part. It's almost as though the she feels like the day my Mom finally cracks, her work on this earth is done. Just because we can live to be nearly a hundred doesn't mean we should, huh?
Thank goodness for knitting! Good thoughts zinging your way.
Carla - I had to laugh with recognition at your description of your grandmother. My grandmother was the same way - she wore my mother down to a wreck in her final years. My mother is terribly insecure about her own ability to cope because my father and before that, her bitch mother did the coping for her and told her what to do. This is a new world for her and I understand that she is scared, but at the same time, I'm not going to let myself get drawn into a replay of her life with her mother. I want to be supportive, yes, but not get drawn into getting sucked dry by dependency. She's sharp as hell - I told her office stories to distract her and she was on top of every issue and the dynamics of the department, it was amazing. She watches Keith Olbermann and Jon Stewart. She's a pistol, but she won't believe in herself and wants to cling to someone else, and I have to give just the right support without getting sucked in too deep.
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