Hallucinogenic Ravioli

Suzy said to me on my way back to Grand Rapids on Monday, "You've gotta hand it to Mom. She's tough." She has just recovered from her second UTI since her last hospital visit in May. Her hemoglobin has been 7.7 for the last two weeks. Her lungs sound clear, her pulse is 70, her oxygen is 97, and temp her normal 97.something. Our mom is a strong little fighter.

We began reading Leif Enger's Peace Like A River a couple weeks ago. We're currently on chapter four. The nine-year-old girl in the story is a fan of westerns who writes a poem about a showdown between Sundown and Valdez. Mom likes the poems. We're also reading a collection of love poems I had on my shelf. So far, her favorite is So Well I Love Thee by Michael Drayton. When I read it to her for the first time a couple weeks ago, we pause at the end of this stanza:

The corn, that in the ground is sown, first dies,
And of one seed do many ears arise;
Love, this world's corn, by dying multiplies.

Mom pointed and said to me, "That is so scriptural."


The number of profound and lucid moments are declining. Mom's personality is still all there, but her grip on reality is slowly slipping. The constant is her love for us and ours for her.

Mom has allowed the little ones to help care for her. For a long time she was resistant and would scold Olivia and Cameron for offering to help her with eating or holding one of her stuffed animals. But she is more comfortable with it now, and the kids can now forge their own special place in Grandma's life. Olivia lays her head on Grandma's chest every night before bedtime and Grandma kisses her head.

A few days ago Mom was eating ravioli for lunch and thought she saw people outside the door. I told her there was no one really there. Evan asked her if she wanted more ravioli. Mom replied, "No, it makes me see things."

More Rosisms over the last couple of weeks:

(Placed Olivia's lime green stuffed poodle on Mom's lap)
Mom: Oh. I forgot to name it.
Pat: What do you think would be a good name?
Mom (after long pause): Jewel...
Pat: Jewel?
Mom: Why, I was just thinking that!
Pat: Yes, you just said it out loud, and I repeated it.
Mom: You're a genious!

Mom: I have an idea...sweet pickles!
Pat: Sweet pickles for everyone!
Mom: For everyone...on me!

(During bath)
Pat: Does that feel better?
Mom: Yes, except for that man on the wall over there.
Pat: Oh, there's not really a man over there. The morphine is playing tricks with your eyes. It's just you and me.
Mom: And Satan.

I made potato soup for the family on Saturday, and Mom was so excited about it that she sang.
"Oooh, oooh, aay....
Oh...my...soup!"
I told Mom no one had ever sung for my soup before.

Last weekend I brought Mom one of those videos of a fire place so she could have something warm and soothing to watch as an alternative to the game show network and Animal Planet. She loved it. A couple times she was confused by it, but never scared.

(Calmly) "The neighbor's house is on fire."

"Don't fall in the fire. I'll have to do a mullikabump."

Mullikabump is one of several new words Mom has fashioned lately. Among the others:
Covortz
Retro-Rinse (Evan's definition: where the spin cycle of yesterday meets the technology of today)
Tom box
Davenportase

Mom brings a lot of joy to the Wise's house. Paul was in the hospital for four days last week, and Mom was so happy to see him come home. Most visits to Mom's room result in a resounding welcome and bright smile. I've never felt so welcome anywhere as I do when I walk in her door on Thursday nights. Sometimes she forgets I'm Patty, but she never forgets she loves me. That's everything.

Stop your applause. Really. I mean it!

As of Thursday, Mom's labs were typical. Her hemoglobin is 8.4 - low, but with the range she has maintained. Her magnesium was low so she is receiving supplements, but Suzy will try to get the magnesium added to her fluids to eliminate the need for another pill. She can still reach her face with her hands. In fact, I gave her carmel corn to eat with her fingers, and she was able to feed herself for the first time in months. Evan made her a grilled cheese sandwich yesterday cut in four pieces, and she ate it all with her own hands. She is very proud, and so are we!

Last weekend Mom was still very talkative. She is very observant of people who are with her and those who are not really there. She has tried to get out of bed many times, which is good exercise for her but not possible. She is constantly working on an imaginary something, like sewing, making supper for the family, eating a snack, working a puzzle. Sometimes these activities are frustrating to her, but most of the time she is content to be working.

On Tuesday night Mom became very frustrated and angry at Cameron for not doing something she thought he was supposed to do. Her anger deepened, even though she was gently told he hadn't done anything wrong. When she heard clapping on the television, she said, "He (Cameron) is conjuring this clapping to our demise." Although it was articulately funny, it was time for Cameron and Olivia to leave Grandma for a while. Olivia went back later to give her a good night hug and kiss, then again. The second visit, Grandma hugged and kissed back.

Mom has frequently forgotten that she is home. She often speaks as if she's at our house in Traverse City waiting for Dad to come home, or at her childhood home on eleventh street waiting for her brother Jack to play with her. It must be so difficult for her to constantly return from her memories to her bed at Suzy's. She has been almost always sweet and compliant during this illness. She's entitled to some expression of frustration and anger, in whatever form it finds its way out of her. We can certainly make room for it. Suzy will monitor her pain levels in case some of her frustration is related to physical pain.

I spoke with Mom last night before going to bed. She was her usually happy self, and our conversation was normal.

"Hi Mom!"


"Hi Patty! How's every little thing?"


"Fine. I miss you."


"I miss you too, Patty."


"I'm coming to see you on Friday, and I'm going to stay with you for three whole nights."


"Oh, that will be wonderful!"


"Good night Mom. I'll see you in my dreams."


"I'll see you in my dreams too. I love you Patty."


"I love you too, Mom."

Pictures from Sunday are below. I see now that they are posted that I really need to recharge my camera batteries. Sorry for the poor quality.

Lately

There have been changes in Mom over the last couple of weeks. She has quiet times, then chatty times. Moody times and stoic times. She's developed some new aches and pains. We've increased her medicine. Through all of it, she still has a kind word and a smile every morning.

The drugs that are keeping her comfortable are fentanyl and morphine. The fentanyl is administered through a small patch we place on her shoulder. It administers 72 hours of effective pain relief, then we change the patch. The morphine is in suspension and she gets a small dose every three hours throughout the day.

For her brain, we give her dexamethasone. This reduces swelling caused from the brain tumor. We're monitoring its effectiveness closely, since it is a steroid medication and can make her more suseptible to infection.

Corey and I are just about ready to head out the door for Boyne City. I'm posting a few pictures from the last couple of weeks, and I'll try to write more over the weekend.


Mom dreaming sweet dreams of puppies and chocolate.
Tina and Mom.
Tina and Suzy at the door of Mom's room.
Kisses for Tina.
Cameron and Devon.
Devon blows bye-bye kisses to Grandma Rose.



Bill, Pattie, Jessy & Tyler with Mom last weekend.


Tyler and Grandma Rose saying bye!

Babbette keeping Mom's lap warm, or Mom keeping Babbette warm...it's a mutual thing.