I force myself...
...sometimes, to come here and post. I do this on purpose. If I rely on "inspiration", I notice, my posting is heavily impressionistic. If I come here with a sense of duty, my posting leans toward the informational. This morning, I am here with a sense of duty, as I'd much rather be doing some of the "dirty" work of site maintenance, playing with code, etc. I've decided to download the pages I've created through this proprietary software onto my computer and see if I can break through some of their HTML in order to utilize space more efficiently on the pages I produce through it.
    One of the more important people in my mother's life is her oxygen and breathing medications guy (not his official title, which probably includes the words "technical" and "therapist"). Although we haven't been seeing him often, most of the parts of her equipment need to be maintenanced and/or replaced on a regular basis. The more she uses the oxygen and her medications, the more we see him, so our visiting quotient is on the upswing. I mention him because he called today and, in talking with him I was reminded of a few oxygen related "things" I wanted to post.
    Increased alertness and energy is the destination of oxygen and pleural medication therapy. As these are approached, the game changes. Because of the volatility of oxygen, in dealing with an unrepetant smoker, knowing about these changes ahead of time might help avoid a problem. The following is an anecdotal example of what I mean:
    This morning, again, I arose to find that my mother had awakened sometime in the night, removed her cannula, draped it over her rocking chair and apparently sat up for long enough to drink 8 ounces of water and 4 ounces of coffee she'd left on her TV table last night. It was also apparent that she looked for her cigarettes, although this time she didn't find them, as, last night, I hid them close to where I sleep. I finally remembered that the night before (I believe that's when it was) when she took her cannula off and found the cigarettes I had hidden in the regular place. But, she's too alert, now, for me to do that, thanks to oxygen therapy.
    There was one difference, this time, about her night respite (so to speak; a respite from sleep, which for her, is, in a way, a vacation). I had mentioned, night before last, that it would be nice if, when she removes the cannula in the middle of the night, she turn off the machine because of the electricity it consumes. Last night she remembered to turn it off. On the one hand, her increased alertness thrills me. On the other hand, this means she is becoming alert enough to remember what I say about mundane concerns. She may, at some point, decide that she is alert enough to be allowed to smoke cigarettes "responsibly" in the middle of the night. This highlights a problem with oxygen therapy that seems to be true of all therapies. When a person needs oxygen therapy the most they are unlikely to sabotage it because they have so little energy and are not very alert. As alertness and energy increase there is a tendency to think that it is okay to continue with behaviors that put the cannula in one's nose in the first place. When one is not very alert or energetic one ignores, or perhaps doesn't even feel, the physical lure of nicotine addiction. When one is alert and energetic one also becomes alert, as well, to the symptoms of withdrawal from cigarettes; and, subsequently, becomes alert enough to manage smoking and oxygen at the same time. Granted, this significantly reduces cigarettes smoking, but it also practically guarantees that the oxygen client who is a smoker is going to continue smoking, even if in reduced amounts.
    I am hoping that a similar process as took place with Chocolate/Sugar Reduction in our household will take place with smoking (although I'm realistic enough to know that Chocolate/Sugar 'addiction' is quite a bit less volatile than addiction to nicotene). As my mother quietly considered the ramifications of continuing to consume at least a pound of chocolate a day and untold amounts of sugar she began to naturally cut down, until, today, we are at the point where she often refuses offered sweets and it is hard to find any sweet substances in our house. More often than not, when I need sugar in a recipe, I have to make a special trip to purchase a 1 pound box; which inevitably gets passed on to someone else in the family who has an ingredient crisis while cooking [Has anyone ever researched why sugar is such a ubiquitous crisis ingredient that borrowing a cup of sugar has become socially iconic?].
    Whether or not I'll be able to depend on this subtle habit-change-from-the-root in regards to my mother's smoking is another matter. Obviously, this particular renewal of my mother's reality-centered mind is going to require some increased creativity on my part. I'm looking forward to it because it also means I can deal with my mother rationally, talk to her about all aspects of her care, and rely on her judgment in regard to her treatment and her habits. We are always much more productive [Is this the right word? No, but I'm in a hurry and am not going to search for the right one.] when she is an active member of our partnership.
    So, the moral to, or, better yet, the direction attached to this posting is: Celebrate the changes in your charge when oxygen therapy kicks in by looking forward to your charge's renewed involvement in her/his life. Yes, remain careful and vigilant, but allow yourself to be pleasantly surprised by working your charge's involvement in their own life into your routine.
- posted by gail rae @ 10:53   email...this post