Lewy seems to have taken up pretty much permanent residence in Daddy’s head. Even when he talks (or tries to) about something real, he can’t formulate enough words to make it understandable. The nouns always seem to be missing.
The wound nurse came by and redressed Daddy’s feet. We were able to remove the suction on the left foot and maybe we will be able to remove the suction on the right foot Friday. I sure hope so. It’s difficult to change the dressings, it hurts Daddy when we do it, the pump is noisy, and it restricts Daddy from being able to move around.
She also thought we might try to sit him upright for a bit and see if he thinks he wants to try to stand up. It would be so nice, if I could just get him out of the bed into a wheel chair. It is amazing, I never thought of a wheel chair as being a “freeing” object before. (I’m slow, obviously. Or perhaps incredibly lucky) I’ve never had to think of wheelchairs that way before. I’ve always thought of the restrictions one has to deal with when they are confined to a wheelchair. Never again will I look at a person in a wheel chair and feel sorry for them. I will look at them and know how grateful they are to be able to get into one.
Daddy’s old girlfriend June came by to visit yesterday. She happened to arrive just as a friend of mine arrived, so my friend and I sat outside in the warm spring sunshine while June, a retired nurse, checked in on Daddy.
It was nice to sit outside and chat without worrying about what was going on inside with Lewy. Unfortunately, it was Lewy that greeted June, so she talked to him a while, reminded him of who she was, but reported to my friend and me that she didn’t think he ever realized who she was.
Too bad. He had been asking about her by name a few days before. I wish he on some level realized it was June…….Perhaps he did, now that I think of it……The covers were completely re-layered which no doubt means he had removed them for her. That will teach her to come visit!
Lewy on the other hand doesn’t seem to care who he gets nekked in front of. He grabs those covers one by one and flings each of them with the authority of Gypsy Rose Lee slinging off her gloves. I keep expecting to hear “The Stripper”.
Occasionally, we get a good leg lift to emphasize the toss.
This blanket tossing is of course what the anti anxiety meds are for. So I give him some anti anxiety meds. A bit later I give him pain meds. Even after the drugs he still wants to twist up that cigar, pull on the bed clothes, and cling to the bed rails. At the prescribed intervals I give him his meds that do eventually calm him down into a deep sleep.
Now, as I go by his bed I take an eye dropper to wet his lips every few minutes. He breathes through his open mouth so even in a deep sleep, his mouth responds, sort of a pucker, to the drops and “asks” for more.
I play the old Swing Kings very softly off the TV CD channel, no talk no commercials. It seems to ease him a bit. At least his generation had good music. Imagine the children of today’s kids playing hip hop through a boom box to settle Granny down…Kinda makes me smile just to think about it….Progressive Rock for me, with a good dose of Heavy Metal just for kicks, please. And some Buffett. Gotta have some Buffett.
I was so looking forward to this morning. It was an unusual nexus of events that meant I could sleep late. Oh yes, sleep until 8 AM maybe….
2:30 AM. Daddy is coughing up a loogey. I hear him spit it. I ain’t gettin’ up.
3:12 AM Daddy is gurgling very loudly, again I hear the propulsion of goo.
3:58 AM more wheezing and propelling.
This went on all morning. I finally gave up and tried to mentally prepare myself for the mess there would be to clean. I knew from experience to check the glare on the hardwood floor; and Lo and Behold! A goo mine-field. The decision to not get up earlier was probably a mistake. Re-wetting phlegm for removal is disgusting. I gagged for a long while. I manage in my old age to not vomit, but I can’t stop the repeated gagging.
After I got the floor cleaned I approached the bed. There were clumps of the stickiest ……oh it was awful….just awful….So much for my much anticipated morning sleep in.
After I cleaned the mess up from Lewy’s shoulders, face, and bed, I went to the kitchen to crush his pills and make his breakfast of pureed sweet potatoes and chicken with rice, with Ensure on the side.
By the time I got the food set down on the bed side tray Lewy had fallen fast…. and very deeply…. asleep.
Down to the bottom,
Hello
Is there anybody else here?
It's cold and I'm so lonely,
Hello!
Is there anybody else here?
Hello (Hello, Hello, Hello)
Won't you throw me down a Life Line?
I'm so afraid of darkness,
And down here it's just like night time.
Oobelie, Ooobely, Oogolie,
Oogolie, Oohs..Are all around me.
Hello!
Will you please send down a Life Line?
Down,
And there isn't any hope for me,
Unless this dream which seems so real,
Is just a fantasy.
Life Line
by Harry Nilsson
Thank you Harry…
.
Listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G1w1WLUDPUM
3 comments:
old friend said...
Now I know you would want some Leon in the mix!
Stella said...
Oh, my dear, the generational gap is showing but what a trip for this granny. I'll join Mr Lewy with his soft music but I got a sad chuckle for the little guy at the rim.
Stella said...
His feet are improving???!!!! Good for you, Mr Lewy!