Charades

Before Mom went to the hospital, we anticipated that she might not be able to talk for a while. So we joked about playing charades as a form of communication. But we also knew she'd be in pain and probably wouldn't want to laugh, so charades might not be appropriate. But this morning, we've used charades, pictionary, and the written word to decipher the meaning of Mom's grimaces indicating a need. It's all working pretty well, and Mom has actually smiled at some our antics as we tried to understand her.

"We" in this case is me and the nursing staff. I left Dad at home in the care of his home health aid, and my sister is back at work. I got here as soon as I could this morning after a somewhat sleep deprived night. I was awakened at 2:15 a.m. by a call from the nurse who said Mom was agitated and asking for me. Mom was writing notes and the nurse was trying to tell me what she wanted. Finally, I gathered that Mom was having an anxiety attack because she wasn't getting enough attention from the nurses and she was having trouble breathing because of the mucus in her lungs. She wanted me to "come quick." I explained to the nurse that I could not leave Dad alone, and suggested that she pay a bit more attention to Mom for the next few hours. She agreed to do so.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. But as I fell asleep last night I realized that it helps to have a large family, or village, to care for elders, too. Someone to care for Dad night and day; several people to be with Mom most, if not all, the time, someone to take care of all the administrative challenges (paying bills, scheduling, planning for the next day and next week); someone to make money to support all of us; and many friends and supporters to call, email, and pray for us.

After a few more hours of sleep, I got up and prepared to leave as soon as the home health aid arrived. I've been pleasantly surprised and very thankful for Mom's improvement. She's sitting in a chair, and the physical therapist actually had her up walking. The respiratory specialist will be here soon to give her some meds for her lungs.

There's a big mirror in this room. I'm not sure Mom has looked into it, but I didn't need to worry about being the first to show her the post-op Momma.

Sue