The Monday After

The yoga here at home wasn't nearly as successful as that at the studio. The poses were far more difficult to assume, if possible at all, and my body felt stiff and weak. Perhaps it was because I did nothing vigorous on Saturday to keep the momentum going.

At any rate, I went through the DVD, which is directed at older people, so it was even more embarrassing when I couldn't keep up. My friend said it was because I was alone. If we'd done it together, we could have helped one another. That might be true.

This morning, I made no attempt at the video, but did stretching and some abdominal strength exercises. My arms are weak, and will require more work. A little at a time, it will have to be.

The appointment with the psych is this afternoon. I told GL I would come visit with her this morning, and bring her clean clothes.

She's taken another fall, and injured her left knee--the one that was her "good knee" before. She fell because she didn't have the patience to wait for someone to come get her off the john and into her wheelchair. She took the pressure alarm off the wheelchair and threw it in the trash, called for help to get into the bathroom, but then didn't wait for help to get back into the chair. Down she went.

Now, she's stuck in bed; right knee still swollen and sore, left knee twisted and sprained, and tailbone sore as the dickens since this the third time she's landed on it in two weeks. She's digging herself deeper and deeper into disability.

She tried to call me yesterday and couldn't get through. Finally, her dear weekend nurse, Reena, called for her. She'd forgotten she didn't need to dial an area code for my number, so the calls wouldn't go through

She asked if I knew where she is. I said, "Of course I know where you are!" She said, "Where am I?"
Me: "You're in the same place you were last weekend when I came to see you. Plaza del Rio, room 407B."
Her:"No."
Me: "Yes. Unless they've changed your room this week. Did they do that?"
Her: "I don't know. Here, talk to Reena."
Me: "Hello, Reena, was GL moved to another room this weekend?"
Reena: "Oh no. She's a little confused today. She's still in 407B. I must tell you that her oxygen levels were a little down when I did her vitals today. I put her back on the oxygen, but she keeps pulling the canula off and letting it hang around her neck. Everything else seems to be okay."
Me: "Thank you. May I speak to her now, please?"
Me: "Lee? You're still in the same place. I know how to find you, and I'll be there in the morning."
Her: "Okay, Honey, that's good. Ooooh, everything hurts. I hate being stuck in this bed. I can't get to the bathroom by myself, and I keep wetting the bed, and they say it's okay, but I don't like it."
Me: "I know, but you have special pants on, and there are pads on the bed, so at least you don't have to worry about soiling the linen. When you need to go, push your button, and they can help you get on the commode if they make it in time. Otherwise, don't worry about it."
Her: "This old body's falling apart, and I'm not doing anything to make it better. I know I'm just stubborn, but I don't like feeling like I can't take care of myself anymore."
Me: "I know, and I can put myself in your shoes and understand how bad it must feel. I wish there was another way we could handle all this, but this is the best we can do. Now, the nurse says your oxygen is low, so they probably put the plastic thing on you that goes in your nose, right?"
Her: "Yeah, I hate that damn thing. I wait for them to leave the room and then take it off."
Me: "If you take it off, your brain won't get enough oxygen, and you'll get more and more confused. That's not good, is it?"
Her: "No. I guess I'll try to deal with it as much as I can."
Me: "Thank you. I like to talk to you when I visit, and I like it even more when you make sense."
Her: giggling...

I'd forgotten for a little while this morning that I'd promised to go, and was leaning towards a little lie-down with a book. Guess I'll take a shower and head over there instead. It's getting harder and harder to go and she slides downhill. My own mental state doesn't make getting up the gumption to make the trip any easier, and having to face this all the time contributes to the stress that's breaking my mind. I wish her family would step up and take responsibility for her. In the meantime, I'll just keep going.