Steroids
2019-03-27
I don’t know whether to be hopeful or afraid. Is the roller coaster gearing up for a loop de loop or ratcheting up, up and up. For sure the steroids the doctor started yesterday are working.
This morning I expected Mom to have dialysis early, so I stayed home. Jonah threw up last night and stayed home from school. I kept my mind busy taking care of him and cleaning out the refrigerator. When I arrived at the hospital at noon, they had just taken her back to dialysis. Disappointed that the chance to see her today was lost, I asked to just say hello. The dialysis tech looked on.
“Hey Mom!”
“Hi.” Mom said and looked my way.
“How are you doing?”
She started singing something and said something about rats.
“Momma, I love you.”
She looked right at me and said, “I love you.”
Wow. I was speechless.
The tech said, “I heard it! I’m your witness.”
Mom had nothing else to say and seemed restless. I left so she wouldn’t move the arm with the needles in it.
The palliative nurse called this afternoon to see if I had seen Mom. She evaluated Mom right after dialysis and Mom squeezed her hand on command and answered a few questions with a yes and no. The nurse hoped they would soon get her to start eating again and then on to full recovery. It was a thrilling afternoon.
Sophia watched the kids this evening so I could sneak in another visit. Mom was alert but didn’t respond much. Maybe she was tired from all the responding she had done earlier.
I’m both hopeful and scared. I’ll take each moment at a time and keep you updated.
No matter what, hearing Mom say, “I love you,” was a huge, huge blessing.
2019-03-27
I don’t know whether to be hopeful or afraid. Is the roller coaster gearing up for a loop de loop or ratcheting up, up and up. For sure the steroids the doctor started yesterday are working.
This morning I expected Mom to have dialysis early, so I stayed home. Jonah threw up last night and stayed home from school. I kept my mind busy taking care of him and cleaning out the refrigerator. When I arrived at the hospital at noon, they had just taken her back to dialysis. Disappointed that the chance to see her today was lost, I asked to just say hello. The dialysis tech looked on.
“Hey Mom!”
“Hi.” Mom said and looked my way.
“How are you doing?”
She started singing something and said something about rats.
“Momma, I love you.”
She looked right at me and said, “I love you.”
Wow. I was speechless.
The tech said, “I heard it! I’m your witness.”
Mom had nothing else to say and seemed restless. I left so she wouldn’t move the arm with the needles in it.
The palliative nurse called this afternoon to see if I had seen Mom. She evaluated Mom right after dialysis and Mom squeezed her hand on command and answered a few questions with a yes and no. The nurse hoped they would soon get her to start eating again and then on to full recovery. It was a thrilling afternoon.
Sophia watched the kids this evening so I could sneak in another visit. Mom was alert but didn’t respond much. Maybe she was tired from all the responding she had done earlier.
I’m both hopeful and scared. I’ll take each moment at a time and keep you updated.
No matter what, hearing Mom say, “I love you,” was a huge, huge blessing.