I’ve spent a good chunk of every day since my last post dealing with mom things. Monday I had to take her things, as I mentioned at the end of that post. She did know me. Tuesday I had to ride on the facility van with her to an ortho doctor to check out the fractured bone in her foot. (That went well, thankfully; I grabbed a couple of suckers at the checkout desk and we sat in the lobby and happily sucked on them until the van returned.)
Yesterday was a brief family meeting. Aunt Peggy went with me & we went upstairs after to take mom some clothes and things. Aunt P is really kind of uncomfortable with mom's condition (which makes sense, of course; that’s her sister, yet isn’t really anymore), so we didn't stay long. Needless to say, as usual, mom was upset when we went to leave.
By the time I got home the facility doctor was calling to say mom was complaining of chest pain and they were sending her to the ER. Once again, even though I was 99.9% sure it was just that she was mad, they have to do it and that is fine.
Well, apparently they didn't get her there till late last night, the hospital kept her overnight (nobody called me, which I guess was because it was so late) and called me early-ish this morning because I had to come sign more papers so they could finish tests. Then I had to drive 30 miles to New Psych to get mom's walker which got left there last week.
I was pooped by then, so I just said Enough, treated myself to Chinese for lunch, wandered around a bookstore for an hour and Goodwill for half an hour more. If crisis doesn't happen again tomorrow, I'm going to a dang movie. I keep trying to explain to people that caregiving doesn't end when the person is out of your house. After seeing this past week, I think my family gets it now.
That said, though, mom getting her full-time care elsewhere is allowing me to reclaim my life a bit at a time. Go to bed when I want, get up when I want, do some yoga or ride my exercise bike, write or read or craft, I’m feeling better about myself. I’ve managed to lose 10 pounds, close to 15 on some mornings (LOL). When I went to Tunica with the family, I noticed times when I was walking around the hotel or casino that, well, I just felt more comfortable in my skin.
For months, I’ve been just lumping around the house, wearing nothing but old ratty house clothes. Why dress nicely if you aren’t going to go anywhere or see anyone? Or if all you’re going to be doing is sitting around, changing diapers, fixing food, and chasing the confused? Best to wear things that can’t be ruined because they’re already half destroyed.
But last week, I wore real clothes for several days! One day, I wore nice jeans and a nice blouse. Another day, I wore leggings and an oversized t-shirt, and when I walked down the casino hallway toward a wall with some mirrored tiles and saw myself, I almost looked slim. And female! And normal.
I don’t know what self-image effects other caregivers might have noticed. Maybe they have more help, more chances to get out, more time to actually dress. I know it sounds weird but I just feel more human. I even feel like I’m moving around differently, less lumpy, and more graceful, not that I’m all that graceful :D but anything is an improvement!
Oh, the honey wheat beer bread is sensational.
I’d almost keep a couple of bottles of that stuff in the pantry on the regular, just so I could make this. YUMMERS. I know, I’m not going to keep this weight off if I bake too much bread. Moderation is the key to everything, including moderation. hehe
I’m into chapter 3 of Song for the Seacrossing. It’s surprisingly good. I read some scenes and go ‘did I actually write that?’ Next post here, I will pick out a bit and post. I’ll need a hot minute to choose a bit that doesn’t give every dang thing away. If you look at my Facebook, I periodically post music I would put on the soundtrack. And I’m trying to mentally recast the movie version in my head, lol. Any suggestions for a handsome Creole cop?