Another 10 mg of furosemide tonight.
    I mention it because it seems as though it was only a few days ago when I gave her one, last, and, at that time, I decided to begin vigorous foot rubbing twice a day because it seemed, then, as though it hadn't been too long since I'd given her furosemide. I wonder if Congestive Heart Failure is settling in.
    She had a good day today, although it started elephant slow. I think she was dramatizing a bit, trying to get me to cancel her hair appointment, but, before she mentioned it, I told her, no such luck, she didn't have her hair done Friday, come hell or high water she was getting it done, today, "...even if I have to steal your body from the undertaker to do it."
    She appreciated the humor but still moved as though she was toting a load, and, now, I'm thinking, she might have been; around her heart and around her lungs. A load of fluid. It was not apparent this morning, but tonight it was as I automatically scanned her belly for signs of fluid retention, and found them, while she was undressing for bed. I decided to give her only a quarter pill, as I think this will work on her gently enough to keep her bed dry and her sleep relatively undisturbed. Lately she's been rousing on her own and going to the bathroom to relieve herself instead of remaining in bed unaware that her bladder is calling. It's a subtle sign of a higher level of alertness than I've noticed over the last several months and I am pleased to be able to report it.
    When we arrived home from her hair appointment she was lively enough that I asked her if she'd like to go to the grocery with me, we only needed a few fresh items. No, she wasn't interested, and, sure enough, when I arrived home less than an hour later she was napping, but she awoke soon after my return and remained awake when I decided to take a nap. When I awoke, she was at the kitchen table perusing a variety of magazines, books, papers and mail. This is a familiar pose for her. It has been burned and developed onto the plates of my brain over and over and over in the last 9 years of being with her. Lately, it's been hidden by an image of a bathrobe clad woman with falling hair and bleary eyes holding herself up at the table with her elbows, staring, for awhile, into a blur I cannot imagine. Seeing her, this afternoon, smart in black slacks and a deep peach shirt (one of her and my favorite outfits of hers), her hair in a stiff, high French Twist, upright at the table, her fingers alert to the pages, her eyes scanning back and forth, was a delight. This evening I found a few history shows on PBS we both enjoyed and baked her a raspberry/blueberry cobbler with what was left of the plump, appetizingly fragrant, peak-sweet berries I found this weekend that we've been unable to resist and have been eating as though they were grapes.
    I have some catching up to do on some previous items of interest (to me, if to no one else), so I think I'll cut this particular post short (for me, anyway), and start down my journaling to-do list.
- posted by gail rae @ 23:45   email...this post