The first thing my Mom said when I entered her room at Northwoods yesterday was, "I have a job!" I cocked my head like a crow and I'm sure my face looked surprised, if not skeptical. "Really?" I said. "Yes! I'm a little scared though, because I've never done very well at jobs". Don't know where that came from, but Mom was pumped up about it. And, looking at the whiteboard on the closet I could see that she was going to have a male physical therapist at noon. The day was getting even better.
Mom was more awake and talkative than I've seen her in a long time. I'm trying to remember when I last saw her so enthused--it has to have been months ago. She was even more enthused by Kent, the PT for the day. She quickly agreed to walk without her walker, which she did very well, with Kent holding the "stability belt"strapped around her tiny waist. She got winded by the time she'd walked the long hallway and then back to the gym, but it's a huge step forward. Kent put her through her paces. She climbed stairs and played catch with me and, after a rest, walked all the way to the dining room without the walker. Mom loves men, as anyone who reads this blog knows, and she converses with them better than she does with women. Kent was a good converser and they talked about where she lives, and Scotland, where both Kent and Mom have traveled, and golf, too. Now Mom has another man-friend. She's never going to want to leave Northwoods.
Lunch was fun, too. Tom, the 65-year old bearded man, has perfectly normal speech and brain activity. It's just his arms and legs that aren't working properly. He is full of funny stories and smart observations. His eyes sparkle and his cheeks are pink with health. He has an excellent appetite, so he gets "regular" food, as opposed to Mom's chopped up variety. Mom looked at his meal and then looked at hers and pronounced hers as PAP! She looked at his cake and her dessert, applesauce, and asked, "He's got cake. Why don't I have cake?" She accentuated this question by sticking out her lower lip! Jean (speech therapist assistant) got permission from Mom's speech therapist and Mom got cake, too. But after two bites she declared it "not as good as it looks". Appetite is still a problem, but something is better with her.
Lunch and all that PT wore Mom out and I took her back to her beloved bed, helped her get into it, gave her her call button and her bunny, Pinkie, and brought her blanket up to her neck. She snuggled in and closed her eyes. Nobody would bother her now until the occupational therapist would come in to work with her at 4:15. I said my goodbyes and told her I loved her and that I'd see her soon. She kept her eyes closed but smiled sweetly, calling, "Bye-bye, honey".
What's extra good about my brother and I splitting days to be with Mom is that I get to carry the vision of Mom walking with Kent, talking enthusiastically, demanding cake, being more alert. I can carry it all day today, even though she may not be as ebullient today when my brother goes to see her. Stanley will report to me this evening about his time with Mom, but I can keep my time with her in my heart and be thankful that I got to experience one of the really great days.
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