It seems to be working.
    Mom always makes a bathroom run early in the morning a few hours before she awakens. I'm usually up and here (if I'm not here I'm on my morning walk) when her initial morning-up-and-down occurs and usually have her change her pad before heading back for bed. This morning I am pleased to report that giving her two Detrol yesterday, one in the morning and one in the evening, and only occasionally monitoring her water intake seems to work for both of us. She developed a little noticeable dehydration last night and I had her drink an extra 10 oz. glass of water but other than that I left her alone. She did not have unusual swelling in her feet, legs and belly last night. She did not experience unusual water shedding while she slept. Her dehydration level this morning before heading back for bed was normal. I think we've finally hit on a solution to her hydration problem.
    As I observe old age happening to my mother a myriad of mental videos flick through my mind, miscellaneous tableaux from a jumble of sources:

• The societal habit of some historically earlier societies of allowing the encumbrances of old age to inevitably slip the Ancient One further and further from the community, both socially and physically, until death overtakes the one left behind;
• Images, both recent and past, of older people desperately seeking ways to circumvent the 'ravages' of old age in a variety of ways;
• Images that define how our bodies and minds might evolve to handle the certainty of longer, healthier lives;
• Speculations about what hands-on evolutionary tactics we will consciously devise to, literally, change the face of old age;
• Considerations of our efforts to extend the timeline of life, change our expectations of aging and possibly eradicate death.

    It hasn't been long since I thought that staving off death was a tricky decision when it comes to old age or a variety of chronic illnesses that relentlessly and successively reduce one's quality of life until death is inevitable. I've wondered about the wisdom of 'artificially' handling conditions that would naturally promote death, three of these being loss of appetite, loss of thirst and the tendency of the body to flush fluid much more quickly than when one is younger. It has seemed to me the unquestionable 'wisdom' of Nature that these conditions occur. As I watch my mother continue her life, though, as I work to 'artificially' alleviate condition after condition that commonly plague the old, I am beginning to consider that what we do as a species to postpone old age and death is, in fact, so much a part of our conscious nature that it must be considered a natural act. What, after all, is more natural than evolution, yet evolution has devised extraordinary changes in what we, as a species, consider less sentient, less self-controlled beings. How unnatural would it have been considered for the first water breather that found itself in a situation where it needed to breathe air to live to make internal changes to its lungs in order to handle oxygen out of water? How unnatural would it have seemed that an earthbound creature would find itself needing to take to the air and devise a way to do this? Nature is a litany of unnatural acts taken to survive beyond threatened lives and environments. It could be speculated that human old age, at this time, is a 'natural' condition whose environment is threatened (which it clearly appears to be; we are, as a species, moving inexorably from the honoring of old age to the trivialization of old age to the eradication of old age). We have not reached critical mass, yet, in the move to eradicate old age but we're headed there. The typical mental and physical manifestations of old age are close to being considered 'unnatural' as treatment to spur their reversal and elimination comes closer to actualization.
    We're not there yet, though. Sometimes, I wish we were. I know that, however edifying I find my mother's ancient mental flights and physical trials, she does not find peace with them. She is, by nature, accepting (sometimes too accepting, but only by habit) but she does not talk herself into believing that any of these conditions are preferred. Because she is still [At this age!] wobbling back and forth between approaching her mortality and denying it I have to surmise that accepting one's 'inevitable' decline and mortality is not anymore 'natural' than resenting and fighting it. The old tell us, in order to celebrate their stamina, that being old is not for sissies. In the next breath, they also tell us that being old is hell and anything that promises to alleviate and/or reverse the process is welcome.
    Dylan Thomas observed that no one should "gentle into that good night" and encouraged old age to "Rage, rage against the dying of the light." It seems, rather than a radical suggestion, his poem is an observance of our innate desire to continue; to turn one's back on the boatman at the River Styx. As a species we seem to be approaching the possibility of this strategy working; of learning how to keep that boatman from grabbing us by the scruff of the neck as we turn away and fight his hauling us into the boat, fare or not.
    I'm beginning to think, as I continue this adventure with my mother, that acceptance of the debilities of old age is no longer 'natural' for us. Perhaps it never has been. At the very least I know that the old themselves are rarely accepting of their condition or their status in society, even as many of them reluctantly give in and "put on a happy face" in an attempt to prolong the sociality of their former 'ages'.
    Evolution, whether or not apparently conscious, is always about expanding options and gaining a stronger, longer foothold on life, whether it be on an individual or community (i.e., species) level. In the case of the cockroach or the mushroom that was discovered a few years ago to be one organism rather than a community of like organisms and, thus, the largest organism we have yet discovered, both individual and community are favored. I am beginning to think that the only thing that is 'natural' about old age is to extend life by attacking the processes of breakdown associated with old age. I know that eventually, because she is old now and not 50 or 100 years in the future, my mother will lose that battle; that, regardless of the technical term used to define what snatches her from physical life, it will be Old Age that finally raises its standard over her battleground. In the meantime I will continue to take every opportunity on her behalf to keep her flag at full flying mast because I know that's what life wants and, being alive, that's what she wants. It's only natural.
- posted by gail rae @ 10:14  0 comments   email...this post

 
In quick time thought...
...immediately after the last post I did some internal computing and decided to give her a Detrol this morning. It occurred to me that if I give her two Detrol a day and don't keep after her constantly to drink water that her body might retain water rather than sending it directly to her bladder and, from there, directly out of her body. The last time I gave her two Detrol I also noticed that her body indulged in some unnatural water retention, so I decided against continuing that practice; but I also hounded her to drink water that day. Perhaps if I give her two Detrol and let her drink when she wants (she almost always has a cup of decaf coffee going and she does, occasionally, water herself), this will take care of both the dehydration problem, the excessive leakage problem and the unnatural swelling problem. We'll give that a try, today.
- posted by gail rae @ 10:39  0 comments   email...this post

 
Oh, I almost forgot...
...I'll try to write most of my blood sugar comments here in the journal in larger print so they're easier to read. I wrote so much yesterday on her blood glucose chart that I found it unnecessary to write, here; but I can't imagine that negotiating that tiny print is fun for anyone but me.
    Also, as a note to myself, I want to talk a little, later, probably much later today, about the problem of dehydration in the elderly. At the moment it is the only condition we're negotiating that is driving me a little crazy. It is distracting and frustrating to have to tell someone almost constantly, sip to sip, to drink water. I have other concerns about this, as well.
- posted by gail rae @ 10:16  0 comments   email...this post

 
"Number nine, number nine..."
...can we work any more examples of the number nine in this morning's blood sugar reading? One more; the reading could have been taken on 9/09.
    Interesting developments since dinner last night. Although I got carrot cake to soothe Mom's sweet tooth and administered 1,000 mg metformin to prepare her for the onslaught of simple sugar, she didn't have any. I tried the carrot cake and, as it turned out, it was only spice cake with a finely chopped nut and a sliver of carrot here and there. The frosting, which I typically don't care for, anyway, had an "old cream cheese" smell and flavor. I threw my piece out after a bite. Mom smelled the cake and decided she didn't want any.
    So, it would appear that all the metformin did was bring her blood glucose back in line this morning. However, I also noticed, without specifically looking for it, that she was just a shade paler than she has been. I am beginning to be convinced that there is a connection between Mom taking metformin and being anemic. I gave her an iron tablet for "good" measure this morning and cut out the metformin. I think that metformin, as an occasional drug, might help level her out when she has high glucose readings, low energy days and her glucose level begins climbing until I can convince her PCP that trying other supplemental diabetic medications might be a good idea. But I'm not going to consider it a capital idea as long as I keep noticing that, without fail, when I start feeding her metformin, I also find myself needing to feed her an iron tablet.
    Today will involve much movement for Mom so her blood glucose level should stay pretty tame (I hope, anyway). Besides being a hair day we're going on a Costco supply run and she's already informed me that we will be going up and down every aisle because she hasn't gotten a chance to survey their increasing Christmas displays. She insists we'll be eating lunch there; a polish dog w/sauerkraut and lemonade (a brand of "light" lemonade with sweetener instead of sugar that Costco's soda machine offers and which, much to her surprise and mine, Mom actually likes).
    Our last day fully here in Mesa will be September 12th. Our first day fully in Prescott will be September 13th. Everything is set. Throughout the next week we'll be taking three moving runs up there. As of last night she was looking forward to a busy week beginning with this weekend. So am I. I'll also be "practicing" with the oxygen tanks and Mom as we head up the mountain, a verbal tactic that was suggested by her oxygen technician to convince her to use oxygen on the trip up. She's agreed to allow me these practice sessions. So I think all will run well and smoothly over the next week.
- posted by gail rae @ 10:10  0 comments   email...this post

 
The first words on my mother's lips, this morning, were,
    "I want to go see a doctor before we go to Prescott to make sure the altitude won't hurt me."
    "Mom, that's what we did on August 14. You were cleared then. You aren't feeling worse, are you?"
    "No, I just want to make sure."
    "Mom, we're sure. Everyone's sure. I know you aren't but we cannot continue to see the doctors you normally don't want to see just so you can look for more excuses not to go to Prescott. Over the last few days you've been anxious to go to Prescott. I know you go back and forth. What's changed this morning, for you?"
    "Nothing."
    "Well, in that case, I can't deal with what has changed since you aren't copping to it so we're going to proceed as we've planned."
    I actually know that she's still having the same emotional problem with Prescott: She simply can't break with the dread she used to feel when she made extended visits to her parents when they lived there. I know all the other details, too, including the business details. I know my details about Prescott, as well, and consider them legitimate. I know it would be simpler if we just sold the place. I know, too, that Mom would start agitating for another place to which she could "get away" and I'm not going to go through that again. Prescott is the territory within which we'll work this through. That's my decision. I don't care to consider anymore how "fair" my decision is to my mother. I'm dealing with someone who is, now, much more vulnerable to whims than she used to be and her whims are no longer well thought out, well felt out or well managed. So we'll do it my way.
    Something I've been meaning to mention: I intend to slowly work away from the incessant finger punchings of obsessive blood glucose testings as soon as I figure out the flow to what happens within her and what we can do about it. My mother is getting tired of being punched (especially now that she feels it). I'm getting tired of following her around with a finger puncher. My intention is for my need for her blood glucose readings to level off once I get a handle on all this.
    On a hunch from a look at her face I decided to give her an iron tablet this morning. I'm not sure whether she 'needs' it, from an anemia standpoint, but I'll be able to tell later from her redness whether it was necessary. Determining what to do medically from observation of a loved one never really reaches an end point. But it does become automatic after awhile, which helps. And, it feels very good to develop this sort of skill.
- posted by gail rae @ 10:22  0 comments   email...this post

 
Just finished some minor editing...
...fixing links and such, as a few have changed; trying, as yet unsuccessfully, to get rid of the extra row in the A.M. Rx'ed Meds (from 8/14/03) schedule...nothing major, nothing of which a reader would take note.
    I'm due to wake up Mom now and running on very low energy today, although the "cold" feeling seems to have alleviated a bit. I may not be back here today...it just depends on how the day goes. It seems as though we've got a lot planned but that could simply be my own resistance to an energetic approach coming through.
    Later.
- posted by gail rae @ 09:33  0 comments   email...this post

 
I surged this morning...
...with barely four hours sleep and plenty to do. After Mom's relatively early rising and breakfast we set out to do The Whole Meal Deal on her hair since her beauty shop was closed yesterday and her regular hair dresser doesn't work Tuesdays. Although it takes me two and a half hours to do what Mom's professional hairdresser does in a half hour or less, Mom enjoys it more with me because she loves having her hair played with and she knows I know it and won't try to involve her in distracting conversation. I actually did a pretty decent job today.
    My plan was that we'd finish reading over the refinancing agreements, get ready and go sign them in front of a notary today. That sounded good until about an hour ago. My energy is plunging and I'm thinking that my metaphorical fevers may have been echoing physical ones. I feel like I have a cold, should have gotten more sleep last night, need ibuprofen and need a nap. Mom seems alert but I think she'll be okay alone. She's got popcorn. She doesn't seem disappointed that we aren't going anywhere today.
    She had a water shed last night. I don't know why. I had her on Detrol. We haven't seen a water shed like this one in weeks. She didn't go to bed abnormally early last night, either, although she was a bear to hydrate yesterday and I sent her to bed on a glass of water.
    Later. Maybe. We've got refinancing papers to read, tonight
- posted by gail rae @ 13:36  0 comments   email...this post

 
Yes, I'm still up.
    I've been in a fever over the last 12 (or more, I think) hours over a couple of, well, things in my life, none of which has been this web site or its concerns, which has made it a fairly easy target of escape, for me. I did a little work on it on and off, today.
    I did, indeed, reinstate the ill fated Playing With Food website so that I could hook up some more of Mom's history through it, which I did at Mom's History, placed in the central links section.
    I also made a few technical refinements. Although I've been suffering multiple fevers my energy has been, while not low, not high, either. I'm afraid I've been a less than enthusiastic game companion, or any kind of other companion, although I have been jittery. I'm not sure whether that has helped or hurt.
    Back (yes, back) to bed.
    Later.
- posted by gail rae @ 02:27  0 comments   email...this post

 
Two Readings
    I took two A.M. readings today. The first time she awoke I knew, from her determined voice, that she was not going to remain up. She wasn't ready. I took a reading anyway, just to see if her recent A.M. spiking changes drastically from hour to hour if she arises then goes back to bed, then arises again a few hours later. The difference was only four points. I've gotten four points difference on two readings taken because I wasn't sure I got a good reading the first time. So it appears she's steady as she goes in the morning.
    I gave her a metformin because I determined it is going to be a legitimate slow day. What's the difference? An illegitimate slow day is slow because she's been legitimately slow for a few days (or illegitimately slow and just too stubborn for me). I can tell when she needs to have a fire lit under her because of her grogginess, both physically and mentally. On a legitimately slow day she isn't groggy physically, just slow; she isn't groggy mentally, just somewhere else in time. Usually I can figure out which one it is before in depth conversation begins. Today, though, I wasn't so sure.
    "What do we have to do, today?" she asks, an edge to her voice that tells me she is thinking about going back to bed yet a second time this morning.
    "What do you want to do? It's a holiday. We can do almost anything."
    "As little as possible."
    "Does it feel like a slow day to you?" Usually I don't ask her. The system works better if I figure it out. Today though, because her demeanor is dreamy rather than lethargic, I decided to consult her.
    "I think so," she said, "a day for watching more than doing."
    After breakfast she picked up an 8x10 framed picture of her and her deceased sister and gazed at it.
    "Anything in particular on your mind?" I asked.
    "I was just thinking, this is such of good picture of [MS] and me."
    "Yes, it is."
    "I don't even remember when it was taken. [MS] and I are the last two left of the immediate family. We need a new one."
    This is what I mean by legitimate slow. "Well, Mom, that might be a little difficult, seeing as how [MS] is dead."
    She stared at me, startled, then almost immediately her memories came out from behind the clouds. She smiled, ruefully. "Yes, that would be hard."
    I asked her if, of everyone who had died, [MS] was the person she missed the most.
    "Yes," she said, "we had plans."
    And, they did. They were going to retire together, after their husbands died, to the Eastern Star Home in Phoenix. They had looked at the place, made plans for their rooms which would be adjoining and suited with a door between each. Although Mom felt she no longer wanted to live alone and asked me to come live with her long before any of us knew that [MS] would be dead before 2000, I know she and [MS] continued to talk about this possibility for a long time. They shared visions of what they would do and where they would go when they aged together.
    She's talked to one of her granddaughters and the related daughter today and was so far off she wasn't listening to what they were saying. She stayed on for a few minutes then, in the case of MPS, in the middle of a sentence being spoken to her said, "Well, here's Gail," and passed the phone to me. After I talked to both for a long time Mom asked me about the news but she just wasn't in the mood to hear it directly, today; she's somewhere else.
    I'm pleased that she feels comfortable enough with me to freely go somewhere else when she needs to. If I were in her shoes I'd hate being constantly bombarded out of my reveries within the past if I were in a living situation where days when one is turned away from the here and now are considered suspect or, at the least, to be avoided at all costs. I'm also pleased that she is not in a position where she ends up doing this to the exclusion of everything else, although we've had our moments.

    Just wanted to mention, I talked to our yardman, who is Mom's age, today. He mentioned he is on daily iron tablets "too". Mom isn't on iron right now but I'm sure she will be again. I guess iron deficiency anemia without diagnosable cause is really common in Mom's age group. I know it can be addressed without diagnosis. This makes me feel a bit better about not pursuing anymore internal studies for the time being.
    I'm waiting for someone to make it down the mountain through the inevitably horrible down-the-mountain traffic, so I may check in and out of here, this afternoon and evening.
    Later.
- posted by gail rae @ 15:06  0 comments   email...this post

 
Ramblin' Rose
    Stream of consciousness, this morning.
    So, I finally did a full check into my brand new stats. Nedstat is recording less than they used to but the data is still useful and interesting. Since I'm using an online web-page editor, every accessing of any page through the editor and making a change and every formal publication is counted as a hit. Thus, on many pages it appears as though I am Narcissus incarnate. I access the index page through the editor at least once a day and it is not uncommon for me to make some tiny change that I have to copy throughout all the pages. Thus, more than once a week I am accessing all pages through the editor. Online editors are notoriously labor and time intensive. The writing goes fast. The editing goessssllllooooowwwww.
    And yet, I even write online, I read and edit my work online, so, I may be the incarnation of Narcissus. One page, though, seems to generating at least some bot excitement, Mom's Test Results. My guess is that its technical jargon is being pulled by a lot of search bots. My surprise is that it is showing up high enough on a list of searches to rate clicking into. It doesn't appear as though it is typical, though, for a visitor to this page to jump to any others in the site.
    Which brings me to a, well, I guess a musing. It is apparent from the search results that I am either getting so few visitors (besides myself and my interminable editing) that it may seem absurd that I talk to my audience as though I have an audience. I am convinced that I do, and a rather wide audience. I just haven't reached them yet, but I feel you. And now I am officially searching, through Nedstat, for you.
    My ISP is goofing up regarding how much space I've used versus my allotment, what they insist on referring to as my "free" webspace (and which I always correct, as, I wouldn't have it if I wasn't subscriber, for good money, to their ISP). I am at only half capacity. Their web-editor stats record me as this, plus, I downloaded all my material, last night and measured it. Just over half capacity. Despite the fact that it is publishing everything I put in it is also complaining that I am way over budget. So after the holiday I'll address this with them. If the site should lock up or become inaccessible for a bit know I'm aware of it and on it.
    I have, by the way, a not insignificant amount of material in a few other sites I took down months ago in disgust. I had not updated them or accessed them for awhile, although they were both still getting visitors. I'm going to ftp those up today, maybe, or at least start and fashion links from these site to Mom and Mom & Me material. It'll help flesh us out.
    In fact, I think I'll begin that process now.
- posted by gail rae @ 07:25  0 comments   email...this post

 
Tonight...
...I am empty of thought.
- posted by gail rae @ 22:34  0 comments   email...this post

 
Am I recognizing the signs?
    I think I made a mistake, and I think I might be making another mistake, I'm not sure. A few hours after her breakfast I let Mom go back to bed. I had started doing some cleaning around here, nothing major, and invited her to help me. Although she wasn't into it she moved around some but kept dropping things, sitting down, saying she was tired. I gave in, I let her lie down. I wasn't thinking much of it.
    Now, I'm angry at myself for letting her do this. She is even more dehydrated than she was this morning. I had to stick her 4 times to take her blood glucose level. Her blood sugar is up to 140. I think, what I'm noticing, is the creeping of the metformin lethargy. I'm wondering if giving her metformin, even in circumscribed, circumspect doses is a good idea. I'm going to get her moving around, now. Become The Water Tyrant. I hate doing that and I tell her she is capable of monitoring her own water consumption, but secretly I am thinking she's not.
    Well, up and out. I'm going to try to see to it that I don't feel the temptation to give her metformin tonight. It's just too easy to give her that stuff and then not notice when it slowly sucks the life out of her.
- posted by gail rae @ 15:09  0 comments   email...this post

 
We have some errands to run, today...
...and, already, it's been busy. I've been in and out of here, but decided to wait to publish until now. A new page for Sep/Oct/Nov has been added: Ain't She 2 Sweet - 2003. The Updates and Test Results pages have been updated appropriately.
    I am so thrilled that Mom is attacking a book that I don't care that the quotes she cares to read aloud to me as she progresses are nothing new, nothing special. I'm going to read the book too, so I can discuss it with her. I'm surprised, sometimes, at the quotes she chooses because I know she's heard them before ad infinitum but they appear new to her in the reading of The Fearless Caregiver. That's okay with me. Her rediscovery freshens them for me. Perhaps the book is a necessary gathering together of the obvious so people will take more careful note.
    We will be up and moving around, today. She's a little dehydrated but we'll take care of that. We. Yes, we. I can't do it without her cooperation, which sometimes becomes very obvious.
    This auto-website-builder is screwing up in its reading of the space I've used versus what I have left so there may be some technical difficulties over the next few days until I can get tech support to do something, but, just to let you know, I'm on top of it.
    Later, no doubt.
- posted by gail rae @ 11:35  0 comments   email...this post