A One-Woman Chin Picker Upper

At least that's what Mom quipped when I told her I dressed a little nicer today as a way to get myself in gear and out of the doldrums - that I am a "one-woman chin picker upper".

We had a nice visit this evening, with Charlie and Susan there, too.  Dad visited earlier in the day.  Mom is quite well and conversational.

A few mysteries, though.  She had on a sweater this morning that had huge fresh holes ripped in the sleeve of it.  When the nurse asked about it Mom told her "it was probably the rats ate it".  Later in the morning, the nurse came in and found her lying on the floor on her side, curled up with her hands under her face like she was sleeping.  When the nurse asked Mom why she was on the floor, Mom didn't know, didn't remember getting down there.  There's no sign of injury from a fall, but Mom later told me that her sweater got ripped when the nurse helped her up from the floor.  The chronology was wrong for that, though.

So, there are a few things not making any sense, and there will probably be more. The nurse and I agreed we're quite concerned with the idea of her coming home.  I called the James to ask about that plan, but as usual left a message and have not yet heard back.

Do NOT mention any of this to her, please.

I shopped today with Chris at the New Philadelphia mall.  I needed to get out a bit because I was getting too blue, lax, feeling too confined here in Guernsey county.  I'd been only to the house and Autumn, the house and Autumn, over and over.  Oh and Big Lots for a few things for Mom.  Oh, and to Dairy Queen.  Those mini blizzards are my big indulgence right now.  Georgia Mud Fudge!  Anyway, that's what led Mom to the chin picker-upper comment.  I'd told her I needed to pick my chin up off the floor and get it together.

You know I've read advice for caregivers to take care of themselves, give themselves breaks, try to keep normal things in their lives.  With not working right now, you'd think I'd be especially aware of the need for that, too.  But I've not been giving myself credit for what I'm doing.  It seems precious little, not something I'm doing full time, and with Autumn's help, I'm not doing any of the hard stuff - bathing, pills, etc.  So I'd not been thinking about the pit I could fall into.  But, doh!  I'm dealing fully with the emotional element of care giving and grieving over losing Mother, slowly and brutally.  So I'm going to become the one-woman chin picker upper.  It won't happen easily overnight, that's for sure.