Breathe in, Breathe out

I found Mom fast asleep in her chair this morning when I arrived to make her breakfast, clean her apartment and do her grocery shopping. She had been up since 5:30am getting dressed and having something to eat. She sleeps a lot during the day now because she is up at least five times a night going to the bathroom. She is technically incontinent, but it still able to manage it with night time pants....or adult diapers.

It took me a while to rouse her, but she finally came to and we started our morning conversation. I fixed her a half of a grapefruit, bacon, made some fresh coffee and another piece of toast with jam. I made myself the other half of the grapefruit, a half of a slice of toast with jam, cream of wheat, a slice of bacon and a cup of coffee. We just sat eating in silence. Mom seemed to revive a bit after eating this second breakfast. Her blood sugar must have been on the low side.

We discussed what she would need at the store and decided on a few things, as I had done a big shopping trip last week. Before I left, I bleached her plastic toilet seat that allows her to sit down on the toilet without having to sit down too far. This is particularly necessary now with her hip repair. I did the vacuuming and the dishes and headed out for the grocery store.

When I got back from the store, Mom was sound asleep again. I put the groceries away and made her a light lunch: a fried chicken drumstick, a serving of macaroni salad a glass of water and a chocolate stripped shortbread cookie. She says her mouth is dry all the time. I try to get her to drink water whenever I can because I am sure Mom is dehydrated.

She talked again about how hard it was for her to breathe in the morning. She believes it is because of some kind of central heating system in the building. In truth every apartment has a discreet electric heating unit. I tried to explain to Mom how congestive heart failure affects the heart and lungs. She nods and then forgets what I have said. We repeat this conversation a lot these days.

As I watch Mom failing more and more each day, I feel a certain protectiveness and love for her that I have never really been able to sustain in my life. She no longer has the energy to fight with me, or criticize my life or choices. There is a softness about her now that I have never seen before. I wonder how much longer she will have to suffer like this...and wish that she can have a few more good days, or months before she dies.