I'm wandering, today...
...unexpectedly, but gratefully wandering. We aren't going to Prescott today, not because of Mom but because of me. Last night, early in the evening, I suddenly felt as though I'd been standing in the Salt River bed just south of McDowell and west of the Beeline while several tons of river rock were dumped on me. I went to bed much earlier than my mother, thinking I simply couldn't keep my eyes open any longer, then tossed and turned and finally gave up and arose.
    I realized I simply couldn't negotiate another very busy day, so I asked her if she would be terribly disappointed if we didn't go to Prescott today.
    "No," she said, "I only wanted to go because you wanted to go."
    Although my overall intention is to work her out of the habit of associating Prescott with her parents and, thus, wishing we didn't live there, I was grateful to hear this last night.
    I'm surprised that I'm in need of a slow day, although I understand, intellectually, anyway, why this has happened. I've been so keenly focused on my mother's surprising recovery since last Wednesday and so dedicated to making sure that it does not reverse that I guess the tension finally snapped me silly. I'm beginning to feel, although the level of physical effort involved in catering to and enhancing her alertness and her desire to move has been negligible, certainly nothing more than my usual level of activity, that I've spent the last week pushing, shoulders first, against a granite edifice and I have to stop and rest.
    Somehow I'll find some way to activate her. Maybe we'll begin the process of sorting through everything here, deciding what to take with us to Prescott this year and what to leave. Cleaning wouldn't hurt and there are certain chores requiring physical activity in which my mother can join me. The appointments (switching of the oxygen concentrator, delivery of her breathing medications) that I'd arranged to have continue in Prescott, I'll handle.
    Last night as I fell into bed a second time I felt as though it would be completely okay with me if I died in my sleep. This morning, I'm just this side of refreshed and feeling hopeful. It's becoming apparent that crisis time is over and I need to return to the habit of regulating my energy so that I can rely on it unfailingly. That shouldn't be hard, especially with a day to reestablish my bearings.
    Once Mom finally headed for bed it was late (it took me awhile longer to collapse). She's sleeping in this morning, although as of this moment she hasn't been down for 8 hours so I'm not going to rouse her.
    Tomorrow and Saturday will be devoted to celebrating her birthday; two parties in a row away from home. She's excited about both and about the preparations I'll be doing here to enhance the festivities.
    About a half hour ago I looked in on her. The Little Girl, one of our cats, was trying to rouse her. Mom looked good, was breathing evenly and deeply and, as I administered a full body pet to The Little Girl to settle her down and convince her to leave Mom alone, Mom snuggled more deeply into her pillow, closed her eyes and slipped back into sleep. I think I'll take my cue from her today, relax, do a little here and a little there, as necessary, and concentrate on allowing our lives to normalize.
- posted by gail rae @ 09:49   email...this post