A Long Sunday at the Apartment

About midnight Saturday, Helen sent an email that started, "Hello all. This is hard, but Mom has worsened considerably the last few days..."

That's the kind of message that keeps you up at night.

So, this morning I called early (though I waited until after 9am) and both Mom and Dad answered the phone. I asked Dad if he was going to church, he said he was and I said that Susan and I would be over to stay with Mom while he went. I decided to dress for church and so I went with Dad while Susan stayed with Mom.

I stood with Dad on the old man's row (these guys make him feel young!) It felt good and I think it meant a lot to Dad.

Susan has the remarkable ability to slow down to Mom's level and worked with her through her complex maze of lists and amazingly produced a couple notes in envelopes almost ready to mail. Ask her to relate some of the high points when you see her. Susan found it quite relaxing and the tension neckache and headache she has been accumulating all week were dissipated.

We visited a little after returning from church, then Susan and I made a chicken run to Bubba's. We brought back plenty of fried chicken including livers, sweet potatoes and green beans. The next trick was to get Mom to eat.

I picked out some small tender morsels of breast meat and liver and buttered a roll, but she said it was too dry and rough to swallow. So I sliced a roll very thin and spread some mayonnaise and thin sliced chicken to make a small tender sandwich. It took her forever to chew and swallow, but she managed to get about half of it down after Susan gave her a talking to. "You are just getting weaker and you have to eat and you have to be strong enough to visit with Mary next weekend. You just have to. Eat for Mary." Mom agreed, and took another bite.

Later Susan cleaned the crust off a liver and cut it into tiny pieces and brought it in with a bit of sweet potato. She had a bite. I called the liver Mom's Little Liver Pills and she laughed as hard as I've seen her laugh in a long time.

So that was it. Half a tiny sandwich, a bite of sweet potato and a few nibbles of liver. And half a small bottle of Coca-Cola. She weighed in at 85 pounds yesterday. That's with bed jacket, night gown, t-shirt and socks.

We left plenty of chicken, rolls, livers and vegetables for Dad. With Mom not eating much, he's not eating much and he's lost more than a few pounds over the last couple of weeks. There were not many meals left in the fridge, but a number in the freezer. Helen is going to help him work out a menu schedule so he can defrost ahead of time and reheat when it's time for a meal. Another learning curve.

He seems to show better patience with Mother. It's so difficult to have a clue as to what he must be feeling. He's just always the same old Dee Don.

Mom is definitely getting weaker. Her morphine dosage is up. When we saw Helen and Will, he explained how the morphine really works for COPD patients. (Let's see if I get it right...)

The problem is the gasping/panic reflex. When the body can't breath and thinks it can't get enough air, it gasps for air. When gasping doesn't work, panic sets in. (If you're in water, that's when you start flailing your arms and you drown.) The morphine calms the gasping reflex. The time release pills were added because her breathing is getting worse and the morphine base line needs to be greater. The reason the patient self-administers the liquid dosage is because they are in touch with the intermittent fluctuations of the gasping. Her breathing is not better, in fact, it is getting worse. As it gets worse, it requires more morphine to calm the gasp reflex.

(Of course more morphine is music to my ears. I love the stuff. I find it to be a warm blanket in which to sink. Calm music and a timeless room wouldn't be bad. It can make the world seem fuzzy and remote.)

Her weakness has its drawbacks. The trip from bed to bathroom is dicey and Mom needs help between the last touch of bed-frame to the first touch of the bathroom counter. Monday I'll ask Dad if they're considered a walker. Not a fancy one with handbrakes, but a basic lightweight aluminum walker (the kind with cut open tennis balls.) Who knows if it will even fit? Who knows if she would use it?

Susan and I left about 4. It had been a long day. After a trip to the Central Market, we met Helen and Will at 7 for some tacos and made plans for next weekend. It will be interesting indeed.