We had an interesting morning with all the
kids still here. Mom wasn’t quite as
active through the night as she was the night before, but she made an entrance
into the crazy scheme of things as well.
Christina was here to pick up the boys, and she went back to the yellow
bedroom to check on things. Shortly
thereafter she returned with a message, “MeeMaw is on the floor.” It took a second or two for that picture to develop in my mind. She couldn't have meant something like, "Elvis is in the building" could she? Chris and I hurried back and sure enough, she
was doing her best to get into snooze position.
Chris was there first and was trying to keep her sitting up. When I got there we each took an arm and
began the raising process. Chris had a
thought, though, and told me to go get the wheelchair. It would be easier to get her around in the
chair than to assume she could use her walker.
We ran into a bit of a snag,
though. As we leaned her against the bed
so we could readjust our grip, the bed started sliding away across the
room. Chris called for Christina to come
help, though, and between the three of us we got her into her wheelchair. The rest of the day she was really off. Virtually no verbal contact. She wouldn’t eat. She slept most of the time, even when she was
sitting up on the couch.
I left for an afternoon meeting with her
like that, and she was still there when I returned. We did pray for her at the meeting,
though. Chris had to leave soon after I
got back to take Taylor and Cheyenne back home.
That was another tough decision. Chris
loves to drive, but she was pretty tired after the long nights with Mom. I don’t like driving much at all, especially
since several of my RA medicines warn that they will make me sleepy, but I
volunteered to take the girls. She
assured me she was fine, though. She was
more worried about whether I could handle taking care of Mom. I’ve been taking notes watching the best do
it for several years now, so I assured her I would be fine.
An hour or two after she left Mom woke
up. Literally. It was as if the alarm clock had just gone
off, and she was rolling over in bed to greet the new day. Now she was still quite shaky, but she ate
what I offered and even drank a glass of milk.
She still didn’t say much as I wheeled her to the bathroom, but when we
got back to the couch she stood up and started walking around the house, rummaging
through everything she could find on the counters. She even spent some time checking out the box
of paints Chris had sitting out. I
wondered if she had plans to adorn the walls with some modern art, but
apparently no inspiration was immediately forthcoming, so she moved on. She uncovered the pan with the rest of my
birthday cake in it two or three times, but I told her she had to eat some real
food first. She insisted she wasn’t
hungry, though. I took that as a positive. At least she was communicating. We made it through the evening together
without any serious damage to either of us.
Chris made it back safely from Bay City.
Once again affirming that …
I can
do everything through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4:13)
Father, thank you for one more day with
Mom. Amen.
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