|Mom, September 14th, 2012|
Mom was far, far away when I came to see her today.
lost inside herself.
She came to for moments, smiled as I placed a few familiar, much beloved objects into her hands. But mostly she closed her eyes and drifted away.
|Mom, dozing in the sun|
I brought her outside, as I always do.
"It feels so good," she said, as I placed her in the warming sun. "I'm always so cold."
|Mom, beautiful in profile|
It's been hard since this latest fall. She has not been eating enough, her weight is down. She looks in the mirror and cries, not seeing her own beauty, finding only an old woman in a wheelchair.
I met with her team, we're making adjustments. They had her on a low-fat, low salt, "heart healthy" diet and needed my permission to take her off of it (as well as the doctor's go ahead).
This is one example of what is so wrong with our compartmentalized, knee-jerk medical system. Looking at the individual diagnosis instead of the whole person. High cholesterol = low fat diet.
I laughed because I didn't want to cry in that office. I was glad they were actually on the same page: that putting a woman with a progressive heart condition who was clearly in the last year or so of her life - and who was losing weight due to poor appetite - on a restricted diet was beyond ludicrous.
It's all about quality of life now. We all agreed. Milkshakes are now on her meal plan. Ice cream sundaes. As much salt as she wants to make the food tastier.
And an adjustment to her medications to try to wake her up a bit.
I hope it all works.
I miss my mom.
I'm not ready to say goodbye.
I want more stories, a few more laughs.
To feel her shoulders relax as I massage them.
"Mmmm that feels so good." she said, patting my hand.
Before she drifted off, once again, to sleep.