Wednesday, May 13, 2015 

Mom couldn’t find her way to the bathroom. So Valentino paced until I awoke. Rob was already with her. All are back in bed now, except me. Might as well stay up; it’s already 5:00 am. Can’t sleep. Too bad. Should be an otherwise lovely day. Always a little challenging when I begin the day exhausted. The brief heatwave is over and spring has returned. Pollen is still very high. Windowsills have been green with each wiping.

Mom is becoming more childlike as each day passes. She whimpers a lot. Can’t find her way back to her room. Refuses to do the simplest thing, such as pulling up her diaper. Well, why bother. It’s been a very long life for her. She’s worn out and this part of life isn’t much fun. She knows no one, remembers nothing, has little strength, can barely walk on her own, and has nothing to look forward to, except watching more of Family Feud. Still, I am brought back to the movie Quartet. There is always hope for something, if you can remember it long enough.

For me, I hope it will be music. I am enjoying listening to and playing some of the music I have always loved. Even bought some Music Minus One—Handel and Dvorak to start. The piano parts are missing on the CD, and I get to play with the invisible performers. If you can’t bring the musicians to the house, bring the music!

Monday, May 11, 2015 

Have not much felt like writing for a while. The routine is sometimes mind-numbing, but to make up for it, I have been spending more time in the garden and laid the last of the mulch just yesterday. After pulling out some shrubs that didn’t make it through the grueling winter, I decided to stick with hardier plants. So I ordered and planted 13 hosta varieties, some of which will grow quite large. Reluctantly going to replace my Little Henry Itea, which has not done too well in the past two years. The shrub was a tip to my Trenton garden, where I first planted one. Also thinking about cutting down the now too tall horse chestnut. But I am terribly reluctant and very sad even contemplating taking down a healthy tree. It was a designer’s mistake. Five years ago, the arborists hauled it in when they couldn’t find the sourwood tree I really wanted. Too sad to contemplate. I tried giving the tree to our current arborist, but he claimed it was too big to take. He had at one time intended to plant it on his own extensive property. Never happened. Sigh!

Went out Saturday evening with Deb and Rich for a nice meal nearby. Rob called to tell me that mom was “on the pot” and calling for me to wipe her—a first indeed. As I could not make it home lickety-split, Rob called Betty, the ever stalwart Betty. Betty ran down and took care of the problem. First time mom did not try cleaning herself on her own. You just never know what will happen. Your time is certainly never your own when you have an elderly person in the home.

Mom’s leg has finally healed; however, in playing nurse, I almost created another problem. When she complained of knee pain, I put one of my loose-fitting bamboo sleeves on her knee. She claimed the knee felt better and then would not allow me to take it off at night: “The doctor said I have to wear it all the time.” Of course, I was the doctor. Not long afterward, her feet became badly swollen. But as mom was scheduled for a trip to the podiatrist, I wasn’t too worried. Our podiatrist put a compression stocking on her foot, but by the time we got home, her foot was even worse. So I removed all compression and the problem disappeared. Think you’re fixing one area, but you might be creating a problem elsewhere on the aging body, particularly in one with very poor circulation to begin with. Lesson learned.

Today, we are off to the GP. Mom is spotting blood. Might have another bladder infection. So off we go. I was going to head down to Lancaster for some errands. Not today. Maybe I can find some solace later while watering the newly planted plants.

April 6, 2015 

I didn’t sleep well last night. Valentino is slated for the groomer at 0800 and I was worried about getting him to do his business before the police cited us for not having a license. I completely forgot to do this, and there was a piece in the newspaper warning that fines would amount to $300 per dog. After Val barked at the first passing truck—not many pass this way; must have been the UPS man—I decided to get him up and out. We walked hurriedly around the block. I then planned to feed him as soon as we got back, even though it was an hour earlier than usual. While I was preparing his breakfast, I knocked off the refrigerator trim at the bottom. So I decided to wash it and do a little cleaning.

As I got the trim back on, mom called. She is still in great pain. It’s usually worse in the morning and it seemed pretty bad this morning. We have been giving her Tylenol for what the PA says is “arthritis.” I told Rob that I think too many PAs and MDs go into medicine to pontificate because they can’t do anything else. I used to have a great deal more respect for those in the medical profession than I do now. This is a function, of course, of hearing the most ridiculous diagnoses in the world! And I will grant you that diagnosing is difficult. (I’ve seen enough “House” and read enough medical articles to know at least this much!) At this stage of the game, I would prefer to hear an “I don’t know!” Consider Nancy’s plight. One doctor seemed to think Eric’s problem stemmed from some sort of osteomalacia of the brain, a kind of pre-Alzheimer’s. He noted areas of heavy plaque. No other physician mentioned this or commented on the MRI images that prompted this statement. But from what I have read, osteomalacia of the brain is associated with a mesenchymal tumor (often confused with meningioma) that would secrete fibroblast growth factor, which I assume could be assayed. But then what do I know, except what I read. (Trust me, I have sent articles to doctors!)

As for mom, she remains in terrible pain mostly in the morning when she is most stiff. I still think she might have pulled something. Problem is: where do I find someone capable of telling me that mom’s new problem is something more than a long-existing arthritic condition. I hate to see my mother cry, and she has been doing it regularly. After I drop Val off at the groomer and pick up the dog license and dig for his rabies tag, I will take mom to the ER. I have work to do today, but it will have to take a backseat to getting to the bottom of mom’s pain.