So, I'm still not actually back on the homestead. I made a brief weekend visit with the family over the weekend after returning from my 9-day sojourn in Colorado before donning a temporary nursing cap for my mom in her moment of 'knee-d.' (Now THAT was a whole lotta prepositional phrases for one sentence, eh?)
I've not blogged since Tuesday last; I've not posted since the Monday before that. Withdrawals have set in, plaguing my brain. But physically and emotionally, there's simply been NO time. For my big trip out West, I had to board an early plane in a timely fashion, pack and unpack -- multiple times, drive and visit . . . and drive, attend hours upon hours of repetitive court hearings, visit some more, find time to engage in somewhat meaningful sleep, eat wonderfully tasty and filling food prepared by loving hands, and make my way with minutes to spare at DIA. Returning home entailed preparing a couple of meals for my own family with loving hands, taking time out to catch up with the kids, and trying to glimpse my lately over-worked husband in between the office and bed!
At present, my duties revolve around a 72 year-old left knee with multiple holes drilled in it to encourage new cartilage growth to replace the significant amount of meniscus which had to be cut, shaved, and discarded. My maternal one must quickly adapt to the Drive brand, deluxe, one-button, folding walker bestowed upon her after yesterday's early morning arthroscopic procedure. Until the initial pain resolves, I'm her go-to gal. Probably 4 full days. She must remain in the raised position for 3 days, applying continual rounds of ice for 36 to 48 hours; I'm insisting on the larger number. This has led her to state that I think I'm the boss of her knee. Well, I might have also insisted that she not investigate any tender areas around the joint when she pointed out a nearby sore spot. "Let's not inadvertently inflict any further trauma on the area!" And then there's the hourly foot flexing she must repeat to avoid blood clotting issues.
She lives in a small two-story apartment building for individuals in a more mature stage of life. One of the communication methods involves taping notes and cards to the doors. Or slipping them beneath the doors. Or leaving bags of fruit and other goodies on the doorknobs. I've retrieved a few items in this manner and delivered a card via Scotch brand just across the hall. Several concerned neighbors have kept the phone ringing with questions after mom's progress and offers of help after Nurse Gloria leaves. Though I'll check in weekly, I feel some measure of relief in knowing she'll be in good hands. She has given to those around her and now they hope to reciprocate. A nice system, eh?
We've watched several DVD episodes of 'The Closer' and caught the exciting season opener last night. Brenda Lee Johnson helped distract from the intensifying knee pain for awhile. Thanks for that, chief! Mom records programs she hopes to share with me during my visits: today it was 'The Nate Berkus Show.' They were gut-wrenching hours centered around Dolly Parton helping Nate put together a nursery for a man with four children whose wife died unexpectedly five weeks ago after delivering twins AND Elizabeth Edwards (the wife of the philandering presidential hopeful who developed an incurable form of cancer in 2004) assisting Nate in designing a living room for a woman who lost a young daughter to a terribly debilitating disease and became severely depressed. Dolly sang with the renowned style and heart for which she is known -- my tears were as plentiful as the sensitive Nate's own! And after listening to Ms. Edwards expound so hopefully on trying to survive until her children graduated high school, we had to hear later in the afternoon of her unexpected passing. After the emotion of my travels, coupled with the arrival of a specific feminine ailment, the stress of mom's surgery and subsequent needs, plus being away from my family for so long, that was about all I could handle without blowing a gasket. I needed air.
I cleaned up. Got mom situated after another round of ablutions and actions -- she's a compliant and cheerful patient, even in the midst of pain, and she's gonna master that dang walker. Then I left the building to test the winter chill, feel the sun on my face, run an errand for my ward, and grab a cup of hot coffee with a side of ice cream cone at the local Mickey D's.
We've successfully conquered a day and a half. Mom has the more difficult job here. I'm easing the way as she adapts to this temporary but significant life transition. Everything will be affected, from meal preparation to no driving to maintaining body cleanliness. A couple of months may soon feel more like a half dozen! If you have any ideas, feel free to share. Right now, her arm and chest muscles are sore from carrying herself the short way from the living room to the restroom. We joke that her left leg may become a hyper-developed mutant limb whilst the healing one may wither into an atrophied stump. But really, we simply want to everything to hold out, work together, and unite for the whole. Go! Team Mom Sharon!
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