All's well...
After a rocky start, respite care accomplished what it was supposed to. A little rest for me and the stimulation of activities for Mother...
There I stood in her temporary room packing up. I had put labels in her clothes but I noticed that she seemed to have picked up wardrobe additions during her stay... a housecoat, a night gown, slacks, blouse, a bra, and something else that I am now forgetting. Often I find that my clothes have become hers. Sometimes that's all right; sometimes it isn't.
First, I saw Louella and the purse slung over her shoulder come into view. Louella with a smart, fresh looking hair do was deeply in conversation with someone. Yes, of course, it was my mother all gussied up in her favorite pink sweater shirt.
The only word I could hear from the conversation was "daughter." I guess my mother was telling Louella that she was waiting for me. Rarely does she call me daughter any more... sister... mother, but not daughter. How interesting!
Mother was a little weary looking around the eyes and seemed to fall asleep everytime she sat down her first day home. Her right leg was a little more swollen than usual. She had convinced the caregiver to put knee-high stockings on. (More clothing borrowed from someone never to be returned.) Unhappily the knee-highs serve to hinder the circulation in that lower right leg, ankle, and foot, but it's not a big deal.
However, when I brushed her teeth, her gums bled. Probably little or no teethbrushing despite my instructions to the contrary. This is one of those seemingly inconsequential personal care issues that can turn rough in long-term care settings.
Maybe I care more about the teethbrushing because I've also spent $5,000 on her teeth this year assuming their health will contribute to her overall health too. Oh well.
In any case, Miss Dixie is back and in fine fettle, it appears...
After a rocky start, respite care accomplished what it was supposed to. A little rest for me and the stimulation of activities for Mother...
There I stood in her temporary room packing up. I had put labels in her clothes but I noticed that she seemed to have picked up wardrobe additions during her stay... a housecoat, a night gown, slacks, blouse, a bra, and something else that I am now forgetting. Often I find that my clothes have become hers. Sometimes that's all right; sometimes it isn't.
First, I saw Louella and the purse slung over her shoulder come into view. Louella with a smart, fresh looking hair do was deeply in conversation with someone. Yes, of course, it was my mother all gussied up in her favorite pink sweater shirt.
The only word I could hear from the conversation was "daughter." I guess my mother was telling Louella that she was waiting for me. Rarely does she call me daughter any more... sister... mother, but not daughter. How interesting!
Mother was a little weary looking around the eyes and seemed to fall asleep everytime she sat down her first day home. Her right leg was a little more swollen than usual. She had convinced the caregiver to put knee-high stockings on. (More clothing borrowed from someone never to be returned.) Unhappily the knee-highs serve to hinder the circulation in that lower right leg, ankle, and foot, but it's not a big deal.
However, when I brushed her teeth, her gums bled. Probably little or no teethbrushing despite my instructions to the contrary. This is one of those seemingly inconsequential personal care issues that can turn rough in long-term care settings.
Maybe I care more about the teethbrushing because I've also spent $5,000 on her teeth this year assuming their health will contribute to her overall health too. Oh well.
In any case, Miss Dixie is back and in fine fettle, it appears...
posted by BK Kincaid at 6:44 AM
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