Saturday, June 27, 2009

Sleeping Susan

Susan has been limping around the house most of the week. She is complaining about the pain in her leg-to-hip joint and seems to think that it is arthritis due to the injuries she sustained in her accident forty years or so ago. She and Deogracias had a car accident when they were stationed in the Philippines back in the early seventies. Her hospital stay was extensive and she had damaged her left foot and arm and was in contraction week after week. She used to tell me about how she had hated laying flat on that bed and would eventually lift herself up on the bar that hung above her bed. I totally get that.

Yesterday the nurse concurred with Susan’s thought about it being an arthritis problem; so why then aren’t I comfortable with that? Sure, it could just be arthritis pain acting up, but would it come on so suddenly? Maybe I am not comfortble because I am noticing that along with the pain she is doing a lot of sleeping or because I have seen her appetite decrease. I thought if she quit eating so much I would be happy, but I am not comfortable with it and am not jumping for joy. I questioned her carefully this morning as she ate her small breakfast, knowing how difficult it is to get accurate information from her. She confessed to feeling weak. I hope that my concerns are for naught. I will be ringing the doctor on Monday if she is not improving.

Monday, June 22, 2009

Night Stalkers

Susan has her days and nights mixed up. Any parent can relate to the endless nights of just being awake followed with long sleepy days. I have spent the past few days knocking on Susan’s door and tempting her with fun activities we could be doing, if she were only awake. Inevitably it is that groan that floats through the closed door followed by some barely audible words that sound something like, “I’m sleepy Karen. Uhhhh….don’t want to do anything…..don’t feel well.” Eventually I get her up in time to re-warm her cold oatmeal and prepare for her some fresh jelly toast and hot coffee.

She complains of her aches and pains, but really they are the same aches and pains she always complains about: her arm, her lower back, her left leg- already diagnosed as arthritis triggered by an old injury. Just in case, I test her to ensure nothing else is going on, like having her move her left foot and hand, checking her blood pressure and temperature. Day after day things look fairly normal, except for the sleepiness. But what else should I expect? Every person in this household who was up for any reason these past few nights have reported seeing Susan’s bedroom light on or finding her wondering around the house.

The nighttime test of wills is nothing new to be sure. Susan can be found securing the house repeatedly after any person goes to bed, shuts a door, enters the kitchen or after any sort of noise or movement that she is sure must have left something undone or unsecured. A hidden camera would find a night time parade of family members checking for Susan, intermixed repeatedly with Susan herself shaking door handles and flipping light switches.

Just last night I stood in the dark hall waiting for things to go silent. I have learned that that is precisely when Susan does her duty. Right on que, as if she were following a script, her door opened and she crept down the hall toward the kitchen -or door- or thermostat. I waited with my hand over the light switch as Susan glided closer and closer, thinking she was undetected this tenth time to secure things. I stood breathless, waiting for her to be in just the right location before I flipped the switch up- lights on!- “Susan, get back to bed. The house is secure already!” I bellow loudly and purposefully. "But….." she tried. “Get to bed!” I did not allow her to indulge me in conversation.

At some point I finally fell asleep hoping Susan too had given up. But this morning after Jeff had walked the house and come back into the bedroom, he informed me that Susan had won last night. “What do you men?” I dreaded the answer. Apparently she had been up after I had sent her back that supposedly last time. She had turned on the lights in the house and moved things around in the kitchen. She wants to be in control like she always was and never fails to remind us of that.

Two nights ago I did my nightly walk through in the dark when I noticed Susan standing in the black living room peeping through the cracks in my shades onto the back patio. “Karen," she whispered in a voice resembling Nancy Drew. "There is a truck just sitting out there waiting to steal my pots.” “What are you talking about?” I asked almost curiously, as I headed toward the door where she stood hunched and peeping through the cracks. I almost bought into the whole espionage thing, making Susan and I the spies about to save the household- from the pot stealers!!

There we were side-by-side peeping, no- SPYING out into the back yard. The solar lights that surround my patio laughed back at us. “It is us, not headlights, Crazies.” I almost heard them say. Jerked back to reality, I pulled myself away from the crack in the door as I announced, “Those are solar lights around the patio that are glaring at you, and not headlights from a truck, Susan. Get to bed.” Of course she wouldn’t take my word for it. Her head found its place back in its peeping spot with her eye centered up at the crack where she apparently recognized them now as solar lights. “Well, I have to make sure.” She reassured me. More excuses. “Get to bed before you find something else to worry about.” I said in a demanding voice, hopeful. Poor Susan, so much to worry about.

Saturday, June 13, 2009

Surprise Walk

Sometimes Susan surprises me. After days or weeks of refusing to do anything that I suggest, suddenly she will pop up and do something that seems grand and glorious to me, like water her plants, straighten her bedroom or go for a walk! That’s right- go for a walk!

Yesterday in fact, Susan actually walked with me for over a mile. Ok! so it really was more like a leisurely stroll down a country road, but she did it! I asked her if she wanted to go- knowing she’d likely say, “no, it’s too hot” or “too cold” or “the wind is blowing,” but I asked anyway. She surprised me; she said, “yes.”

I didn’t want to push her because I knew that if I did, it was certain to be our last walk; so I went slower than I would have liked- finding her pace- not mine.

She surprised me with her persistence. After all, it was getting a little later in the day than I would normally walk, resulting in the sun beaming down on her double layer shirts and long pants. Whenever I turned to check on her she insisted that she was fine as she kept on keeping on. She did complain about the heat, the roads, the wildlife, the time of day and many other things- but not once did she complain about the walk.

My hope that she would do it again was elevated when she began to talk about next time. Next time means that she will walk again with me- next time!!

I’ve got it all figured out, next time we will leave earlier, drive to the nearby lake and park the car close enough to eyeball. That way, if she were to get tired or dehydrated (as I feared on yesterday’s walk) we will have a cooler and a place to sit nearby. Maybe we will follow our walk with a picnic lunch. And if I want to walk some more, Susan can sit in a shady spot and sip her drink while I get more steps in. Sounds like a deal to me!

Monday, June 8, 2009

Missing Baby Saga

No matter what I say to her she will not believe that there is no baby- not here, not today. While it is true that once upon a time Susan really did have babies, and once she held them in her arms and they took naps on her bed, today is not that day.

Seriously Susan, you are seventy-three now; you do not have a newborn bay. I’m sorry, but it’s true. Even if you were forty-seven (as you have been proclaiming all day) it’s unlikely that you would be cuddling a baby girl in your arms, unless she were a grandchild.

One side of me feels sorry for her. She is so distraught over this missing child – the one she has spent the entire afternoon looking for. No doubt she totally believes that the baby was napping in her room when she disappeared. No matter how many ways I have attempted to clue her into reality today, she just isn’t buying it. I won’t be surprised if the sheriff knocks on my front door any minute ready to issue an Amber Alert.

The other side of me is cynical and tired. I mean, if she wants to be delusional than fine, but could I stay out of this one? In my attempt to spare her feelings, I have spent most of my day avoiding participating in the big “search”. My day’s allotted energy is running short. Her determination that her baby is missing is making her almost desperate to get someone to believe her- as it should- if it were real. But it is not real. Only this dilemma is real. Is anyone out there?

Katrina spent her entire evening avoiding looking for the missing child. She has things she needs to do this evening and the search
for the baby that wasn’t -never ends. Can’t find a baby that isn’t there, so Susan won’t let it end. At one point I heard Katrina in the hall telling Grandma, “Look in the mirror Grandma, you are too old to have a baby.” That produces the natural thought about what Susan does see when she looks in the mirror: Forty? Seventy-three? I admit she looks pretty good for her age, but her body is too tired to birth a child and the sagging breasts would not likely allow a baby to thrive. Her brain must control her eyes because she laughed at Katrina's suggestion as though it were a ridiculous one. Silly Katrina.

I seriously hope that when Susan awakes in the morning she will be over this baby thing, otherwise I might spend tomorrow figuring out how to cancel an Amber Alert. No, not that. Could we do something else tomorrow Susan?


(Note: Needless to say, we never found a real baby, but my granddaughter’s doll seemed to give Susan some joy. Although she knew it was a doll, she still looked at it and treated it like a real baby. Works for me.)