I
guess it’s time again for a Mom update. For
the last three or four days there have been some unusual changes. She started talking again. A lot.
And she talked about anything and everything. She noticed our two dogs and talked to
them. She saw something explode on a TV
show and talked about how horrible that was.
She asked Chris a question and Chris looked over at me before
answering. Mom said, “Oh, don’t look at
him. He’ll just make something up.” (Now that’s my Momma. She always was pretty good at bantering with
me). She talked to Cailyn when she came
over. (And Cailyn went over and gave her
a hug). She talked to Noa and Josiah and
Jachin when they came over. For some
reason she was particularly interested in Micah, though. Wanted to know what his name was and what
toys he was playing with. Josiah was
concerned about her. He made sure that
all the food she had on her plate for supper was “soft enough for her.” After our home group Bible study she wanted
to know when we were going to go to “that other monthly meeting again that we
used to go to now that it’s after the first of the year.” Now I have no idea what meeting she was
talking about. In fact Chris and I were
trying to figure out what “when” she might be experiencing. What meetings was she going to before she
started really tanking? Wednesday Club? Moody Gardens? Oleander Society? PTA (she was PTA president when I was a
kid)? Mom couldn’t put her finger on
what it was, so neither could we. We did
assure her that whenever the meeting notice came up, we would see that she made
it. She talked about the pillows on the
couch and the couch cushions and the scarf she got for Christmas and the hole
in her new gloves. And when it came time
for bed she talked about her walker and the things she saw in the kitchen and
her pajamas. And when she got into bed
she talked about the covers and walls.
She talked on and on into the night.
At one point Chris, who had moved over to the other bedroom to keep an
eye on her, heard her call out, not in distress or anything, just “Hello? Hello?
Hello? Well, I guess nobody is
going to answer me.” Then she proceeded
to talk to herself. She finally dozed
off around 5:30 in the morning. The next
day and night were almost a carbon copy.
It was like she was high on some kind of stimulant or something, but nothing has been changed in her medications.
When
I went to see my rheumatologist yesterday, he asked how she was doing. I gave him the Reader’s Digest version. He pondered it for a moment with one of those
frowns that doctors get when they are trying to figure out how to translate all
the medical jargon they know into simple words for simple people. Perhaps he would have some scientific insight
into this phenomenon. Maybe he could
offer some guidance from his vast array of medical knowledge. I was on the edge of my seat. Finally he pronounced his assessment. “Sounds to me like something exploded in her head
and totally destroyed the filter.”
Ah. Very scientific. Very graphic.
Very accurate. Not so helpful,
though.
I
just heard her and Chris talking after what sounded like an exceptionally
difficult transition from the bed to walking.
Mom said something along the lines of, “It looks like you’re going to
have to be helping me for a long time.”
And Chris’ reply: “Well, then we’ll just do it for as long as it takes.” That about sums it up. We’ll just keep on loving her for as long as
it takes, whatever that looks like.
Ephesians
6:2-3 says, “’Honor your father and
mother’-which is the first commandment with a promise— ‘that it may go well
with you and that you may enjoy long life on the earth.’”
Father,
show us how we can make the rest of Mom’s journey as comfortable and peaceful
as possible. Amen.
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