Sunday morning, sitting at my Mom's breakfast table with a jillion things rushing through my head. Trying to get her packed to move tomorrow without making her cry with each and everything I wrap. It's daunting to think she is moving tomorrow. But...
First of all, the front door is open and the sun is shining through the screen.
I just gave Mom her pills, her tea, a ginger scone and a sliced apple. I caught her trying to palm the diuretic....again. She just doesn't understand how important they are to her health. And I'm not a huge pill taker, but it is a must. The fluid is starting to seep through her skin because it has no where else to go. She is in final stages of edema. I say that with an air of humor, but actually it's true. We weigh her daily and this morning she put on two pounds since yesterday, so I know. I know that when Zak was here with her yesterday morning she must have palmed her pill. I know because she only peed twice yesterday and anyone who has ever taken a diuretic knows the impossibility of that. And I know cause I caught her today. And I kept trying to bust her by handing her something in the hand where it was palmed and she was clever. Oh so clever at moving it back and forth until I called her on it. She said with a perfectly straight face, "I take that one last." BS hahaha Who takes a handful of pills and saves one of the tiniest ones for last? I told her I was no dummy, and I saw her try to hold back the hint of a smile before it was overtaken by an angry sigh of resignation. When they test her for dementia I suggest they just give her a diuretic to take. Demented like a fox.
It's just that she's getting more and more sedentary, and thus feels that the diuretics calling is too much of a nuisance. I'm sure counting on the assisted living facility to get her motor running strong again.
Another bit of joy: On the counter in front of the toaster is the first lovely bloom of daphne. It is such a remarkable gift of winter. The bush outside is loaded with them, but not quite open to full bloom. Daphne reminds me of my mom. I remember when she first introduced me to them in her and my dad's garden. I was smitten for life.
EVENING UPDATE: Yay! Look what Camille found when she was packing up Mom's crystal hutch! A sock ready for the gusset. In all the hustle and bustle of moving to Chicago I just forgot about it I guess. (Plus this goes to show you what a sanguine knitter I am!) it was one I left here so that I always had a project to work on when I dropped in. Nothing like starting a project that is half done already!
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