Tonight's picture was taken in August of 2009. Mattie was not a happy camper. He was sitting around the clinic's art therapy table and was feeling miserable. He was connected to portable oxygen and a pain pump. Though he wanted to be at the art table, he did not LIKE the talking and noise around the table. So as you can see he put cups over his ears. About half way into Mattie's treatment year, his sensitivity to sound developed, so much so, that he did not even want to hear Peter and me talking to each other. It was at that point, we resorted to text messaging. Which maybe why even today, I much prefer typing than talking. A sad commentary, but anyone who thinks childhood cancer doesn't impact the family psychosocially, would be VERY wrong.
Quote of the day: I won’t be reasonable. I don’t want to take what you call ‘a sensible view’. It won’t help me, and it only makes it harder. I don’t believe you’ve got any heart. ~ Louisa May Alcott
I get into bed at night and literally I am so worn out that I fall asleep and wake up the next morning in the same upright position. Though I wanted to try to sleep later today, my brain turned on at 7am, and there was no going back to sleep. When I opened my bedroom door to go feed the cat, I saw my mom was up and so was my dad. I went into my dad's bathroom to see what was going on. My mom doesn't have the constitution to deal with body fluids and messes. So she stands outside the bathroom door, which doesn't help my dad what so ever. When I moved myself into the bathroom, what I saw was overwhelming at 7am. My dad's walker was five feet away from where he was, by the toilet. That is beyond dangerous and I asked my mom how she could let him walk to the toilet without his walker. Of course I got NO answer! When I made it to the toilet, I found my dad standing there, in a puddle of urine, without a depends on, and his hand in the toilet. I truthfully did not handle it well. Frankly I LOST IT! I wasn't sure what to deal with first, the urine, his hand in the toilet, his coughing at me, or you name it! So this was how my morning started.
Today was day 3 of COVID. Being in the house all day long, is a special kind of torture. I would say that today my dad was fever free. I thought he was without a fever yesterday, but by last evening, he spiked one again. He is still coughing but it isn't like it was yesterday. He is also more alert and appears to have slightly more energy. Which I view as a positive sign, and I would say Paxlovid is helping. Having him keep a mask on is also a special kind of torture, because one he keeps pulling it off and two, he has no recollection that he has COVID. My goal is to try to keep my mom from catching what he has, because when she gets sick, her immune system isn't as strong as my dad's. What would take one person a few days to a week to heal, will take my mom a month or more.
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