Comforting Love

Last evening at Autumn there was special entertainment, the Marland Family Singers, who sang country and gospel tunes with kareoke. They were very good and we enjoyed their song selections. Mom sat and sang along with almost every song, remembering nearly all the words. Her voice is deepening, though. She was singing at the tenor range instead of her usual second soprano or first alto range.

While listening, Mom asked Dad for some hugs. She wanted his comforting because her headache pain is bothering her more. Her voice is fading out. She's using slippery elm for that.

Afterwards, talking with me and Dad, Charlie and Susan, she seemed more calm, reasonable, rational, and appreciative than I have seen her in a long time. She seemed to be listening to us, asking questions, and responding more conversationally than we have seen in a while. She had been telling other people about what great support she has had from her family, and they have been commenting about how often we come to visit her. She said that Daddy, especially, has been her rock. That's a real reversal from the frequent tongue lashings he has been getting. Maybe her new medicine is kicking in.

She has been so brave, in such good spirits all the time, talking about, "when this is all over and I get to go home". She has never whined once about the loss of hair where they shaved her head, or the scar, other than to repeat all the time how she has to keep it "as sterile as a cotton ball". I'm afraid that would be traumatic for me. She has been a real trooper, upbeat and willing to work with the staff to do anything for her care. They have her doing daily physical therapy and she said she does great bopping a balloon back to them. They toss it at her and she has to hit it back with a short rod that she holds with her two hands. She said she flunked bean bags very badly, though. They asked her to toss them into a wastecan-size bin only about 2 feet away, and she couldn't judge the distance and get her eyes and hands to coordinate that maneuver.

She is still complaining a lot about the food and the noise. The noise bothers her headache a lot, and the place has bells going off constantly, and sometimes really loud alarms. The nurses seem to get so used to the alarms they don't hear them and they'll walk right past the desk where they're ringing without turning them off. It is maddening, as I found out while we worked a jigsaw puzzle in the lounge area. She finally got to talk to a dietician and they're bringing her non-lactose milk now. But there are still only 2 choices for meals, take them or leave them. Some are good. Some are not so good, and the alternates are usually something cheap and easy like hot dogs.

Mom continues to make friends there and have friends come in. Last evening, their minister was there when we arrived, and a woman I hadn't met yet, a patient, stopped me to ask if I was Carol's daughter. The staff all seem to love her and have a sign up by her door, "Our Little Treasure" which thrills Mom because, she says, she hasn't been called "little" since she was three years old!

She was quite sweet last evening, and it made me remember how I miss the old Mom.