Mom and I having a "goofy" moment
Mom and dad had a rough couple of years before mom had a stroke. Mom broke her arm and had to have surgery. Shortly after that, dad had another heart attack and had to have open heart surgery. After that, mom had a stroke
This is a story about the time I spent with them following mom's stroke. I was with them and helping the other times too.
I was sleeping upstairs in their condo in California. I had their Master bedroom because mom couldn't go up stairs anymore since her devastating stroke. I was in that twilight area between sleeping and waking up, my mind yawning and my body wanting to stay under the blankets but I came to as I heard a soft little voice calling me, "Rozanna, Rozanna, I have to go to the bathroom". I said, "coming ma". It was 5 a.m. I went downstairs and there she was with dad in their bed in the living room. Her little head poking out of the blankets. Dad was still asleep.
"Good morning sweetheart", I said to her. I love it when my mother first wakes up, she is so sweet and warm and cute. It sure as heck changed as the day went on but I savored this part of the day.
First of all I would put her tennis shoes on; she needed that kind of support as the right side of her body didn't work so well. Next I swung her legs around to the edge of the bed as I put as arm behind her back to balance her as she sat up. Next I put a gait belt around her waist so she didn't slip away from me. She was known as a "pusher". This happens to some folks who have strokes, they have an instinct to push away from. This got tricky when I was trying to transfer her from bed to bed side commode (wheelchair didn't fit into the downstairs bathroom) I had to be very careful with her right arm too as she had a shattered her upper arm less than a year ago and had no range of motion. I squatted in front of her, put my arms around her and on the count of three pulled her up to a standing position. Now this is where she would push back from me and I would say, "come on mama, dance with me" and sure enough she would start shaking her butt back and forth and giggling. Oh yes, there was a time or two when we both fell on the bed, after losing balance, Dad would wake up and say, "what the hell?". He said that alot those days.
Mom and I had our routine down. I would arrange the bedside commode so that when I stood her up, got her britches down, and pivoted her until she sat down. When finished, I would transfer to her wheelchair, put a lap blanket on her and make her coffee. After she got her cup of coffee, I would go back to bed and sleep for another 2 hours. I usually woke up hearing mom and dad having their morning chat. Sometimes I would overhear their worries. "What are we going to do when Rozanna has to go back home?" It was time for breakfast. I cut up their fresh fruit, poured bowls of cereal, made my style of coffee, 1 tablespoon of coffee per cup.
We would talk about what to have for dinner and I would encourage dad to call his brother Paul to go out somewhere. All I can say is my Uncle is a real special guy! Dad would call him and say, "hey boy, come and get me, I got to buy some coffee at Raley's". To which Uncle would reply, "what do you think I am, your fucking chauffeur". To which dad would respond with a litany of words like "pendejo, chingada, cabron ,etc". Pendejo means coward, jerk, silly, stupid, irresponsible and last but not least the hair over the pubis and groin. Chingada is pretty simple, fucking hard, screw and a bloody nuisance (somewhat British eh?) and cabron - a bastard, bitch, asshole, cuckold, billy-goat and of course one who consents to the adultery of his wife. After this exchange of endearments between old men, Uncle would show up, delicately kiss my mother and say, "come on you old motherfucker" and off they went, cussing away and anxious to get to the mall to do their walk but mainly to look at women's butts and boobs. Paul was open about his admiration for these bodily parts of women but dad always took the safe route, "I can't see 'em, I'm blind" but it didn't stop him from damn near breaking his neck trying to look!
After they left, I would give mom a bath while she sat on her bedside commode. I would place her feet in a container of hot sudsy water, cover her body with towels to keep her warm, turn up the heater and get to work, washing her hair, her body, and her feet, drying her each step of the way so she didn't get cold. Then I would put lotion all over her and she would finish by using her powder puff to put her beloved talcum powder on. Then she would pick out her slacks and blouse to wear. She did her own make-up. We would then wheel over to the table for her daily Physical Therapy exercises for her leg and arm. One of mom's big accomplishments while I was there was to kick out at me. (I was never so glad to get kicked!) Then we did her Speech exercises and what I called "mind" exercises. When people get brain damage from a stroke, it takes therapy to rebuild sections of the brain and to relearn things. Mom had the most fun saying the words she was supposed to say and shaping her mouth; sometimes it was hard to keep her on track because she would get the "sillies" and then I would get to laughing at her and much like I tend to do when somebody thinks I am funny, I can't seem to quit clowning......so it was off to the races of silly, goofy town with mom.
It was a particularly beautiful day in Northern California. The sky was clear blue and it was warm. Mom and I decided we should go to the local park by their home and take our lunch of disgusting (to some) liverwurst and onion sandwiches. (One time, my sister Sharon chided me for taking a liverwurst sandwich to the first day of a job I took; she not only said this lunch was politically incorrect but that my sandwich was a "stinky"). On with her straw hat, lunch on her lap, and her squawking at me the whole way to the park because I only had a learner's permit for driving a wheelchair! Once we found a tree to our liking, we brought out our lunch and ate quietly. I watched mama look at the trees and the children playing and we made sometimes not very reverent comments about the people walking around the park. Sometimes, I would turn my head and cry silently. I never thought anything could take my mom down. She used to have such awesome energy, took care of my dad completely, did all her own housekeeping, shopping, cooking and even renewed her license recently. Now, she was dependent on others, could not even wipe her own rear anymore but she always had a way of dealing with the harsh times.....she just kept going and paying attention to what was in front of her. She did not mourn her loss until much later when she realized she was not going to get back her ability to walk and use her right arm. She always said, "I will walk again". Then she had another mini stroke and she never said it again.
After our afternoon of bonding over "stinky" sandwiches, I brought her home for her nap. When we got back, dad was sleeping in his lazy boy recliner and when he saw his wife, he'd always say, "hello my honey". She would grin and flirt back. After mom was settled in bed, dad and I would go for a walk in the same park. My cousin lived at the other end of the park and we slowly worked dad up to walking to their home. They have a mansion of a home with a beautiful backyard with a swimming pool, comfortable lawn furniture, a restroom, a putting course and if dad was lucky his niece in-law would be home and dad could visit with her. They were friends and loved to talk. She was kind of a sister to me. She took care of me while I took care of my folks. She held me when I cried, she counselled me, made me laugh and she gave me the strength I needed to keep going on some days.
Well, this particular day, we started our walk and dad was feeling real confident and talking about how he never thought he could walk this far and that it felt good, etc. etc. Well, I had to use the restroom, so I found a nice curvaceous tree for dad to rest against while I went to the bathroom. Great idea huh? Only I totally forgot about him when I came out of the restroom and went a different direction to complete my walk. There I was enjoying my "break" from care giving, making calls on my cell phone and then when I saw someone with their elderly parent, a light bulb went off and I screamed, "OH SHIT". I was 54 years old then and I started running (something I am not used to), called my sister and told her what I had done, got hysterical, could not run for sure, in the middle of a field, bent over trying to get my breath, saying my mantra of "oh shit" the whole way, getting fits of giggles and finally arrived to find my dad still leaning up against the tree and him cussing me out, "where the hell have you been, shit, I'm about to fall over". When I saw him cursing at me, I for sure could not quit laughing and apologizing at the same time and he's saying things like, "you crazy girl, how could you forget me? I tried to explain I had a "brain fart". Every explanation I tried to give him was met with his response of "oh bullshit". He was so pissed at me that he walked with a big huff and we made it to my cousin's with no problem. Not so good a day.....sorta.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
...and she left me standing there
Mom and I having a "goofy" moment
Mom and dad had a rough couple of years before mom had a stroke. Mom broke her arm and had to have surgery. Shortly after that, dad had another heart attack and had to have open heart surgery. After that, mom had a stroke
This is a story about the time I spent with them following mom's stroke. I was with them and helping the other times too.
I was sleeping upstairs in their condo in California. I had their Master bedroom because mom couldn't go up stairs anymore since her devastating stroke. I was in that twilight area between sleeping and waking up, my mind yawning and my body wanting to stay under the blankets but I came to as I heard a soft little voice calling me, "Rozanna, Rozanna, I have to go to the bathroom". I said, "coming ma". It was 5 a.m. I went downstairs and there she was with dad in their bed in the living room. Her little head poking out of the blankets. Dad was still asleep.
"Good morning sweetheart", I said to her. I love it when my mother first wakes up, she is so sweet and warm and cute. It sure as heck changed as the day went on but I savored this part of the day.
First of all I would put her tennis shoes on; she needed that kind of support as the right side of her body didn't work so well. Next I swung her legs around to the edge of the bed as I put as arm behind her back to balance her as she sat up. Next I put a gait belt around her waist so she didn't slip away from me. She was known as a "pusher". This happens to some folks who have strokes, they have an instinct to push away from. This got tricky when I was trying to transfer her from bed to bed side commode (wheelchair didn't fit into the downstairs bathroom) I had to be very careful with her right arm too as she had a shattered her upper arm less than a year ago and had no range of motion. I squatted in front of her, put my arms around her and on the count of three pulled her up to a standing position. Now this is where she would push back from me and I would say, "come on mama, dance with me" and sure enough she would start shaking her butt back and forth and giggling. Oh yes, there was a time or two when we both fell on the bed, after losing balance, Dad would wake up and say, "what the hell?". He said that alot those days.
Mom and I had our routine down. I would arrange the bedside commode so that when I stood her up, got her britches down, and pivoted her until she sat down. When finished, I would transfer to her wheelchair, put a lap blanket on her and make her coffee. After she got her cup of coffee, I would go back to bed and sleep for another 2 hours. I usually woke up hearing mom and dad having their morning chat. Sometimes I would overhear their worries. "What are we going to do when Rozanna has to go back home?" It was time for breakfast. I cut up their fresh fruit, poured bowls of cereal, made my style of coffee, 1 tablespoon of coffee per cup.
We would talk about what to have for dinner and I would encourage dad to call his brother Paul to go out somewhere. All I can say is my Uncle is a real special guy! Dad would call him and say, "hey boy, come and get me, I got to buy some coffee at Raley's". To which Uncle would reply, "what do you think I am, your fucking chauffeur". To which dad would respond with a litany of words like "pendejo, chingada, cabron ,etc". Pendejo means coward, jerk, silly, stupid, irresponsible and last but not least the hair over the pubis and groin. Chingada is pretty simple, fucking hard, screw and a bloody nuisance (somewhat British eh?) and cabron - a bastard, bitch, asshole, cuckold, billy-goat and of course one who consents to the adultery of his wife. After this exchange of endearments between old men, Uncle would show up, delicately kiss my mother and say, "come on you old motherfucker" and off they went, cussing away and anxious to get to the mall to do their walk but mainly to look at women's butts and boobs. Paul was open about his admiration for these bodily parts of women but dad always took the safe route, "I can't see 'em, I'm blind" but it didn't stop him from damn near breaking his neck trying to look!
After they left, I would give mom a bath while she sat on her bedside commode. I would place her feet in a container of hot sudsy water, cover her body with towels to keep her warm, turn up the heater and get to work, washing her hair, her body, and her feet, drying her each step of the way so she didn't get cold. Then I would put lotion all over her and she would finish by using her powder puff to put her beloved talcum powder on. Then she would pick out her slacks and blouse to wear. She did her own make-up. We would then wheel over to the table for her daily Physical Therapy exercises for her leg and arm. One of mom's big accomplishments while I was there was to kick out at me. (I was never so glad to get kicked!) Then we did her Speech exercises and what I called "mind" exercises. When people get brain damage from a stroke, it takes therapy to rebuild sections of the brain and to relearn things. Mom had the most fun saying the words she was supposed to say and shaping her mouth; sometimes it was hard to keep her on track because she would get the "sillies" and then I would get to laughing at her and much like I tend to do when somebody thinks I am funny, I can't seem to quit clowning......so it was off to the races of silly, goofy town with mom.
It was a particularly beautiful day in Northern California. The sky was clear blue and it was warm. Mom and I decided we should go to the local park by their home and take our lunch of disgusting (to some) liverwurst and onion sandwiches. (One time, my sister Sharon chided me for taking a liverwurst sandwich to the first day of a job I took; she not only said this lunch was politically incorrect but that my sandwich was a "stinky"). On with her straw hat, lunch on her lap, and her squawking at me the whole way to the park because I only had a learner's permit for driving a wheelchair! Once we found a tree to our liking, we brought out our lunch and ate quietly. I watched mama look at the trees and the children playing and we made sometimes not very reverent comments about the people walking around the park. Sometimes, I would turn my head and cry silently. I never thought anything could take my mom down. She used to have such awesome energy, took care of my dad completely, did all her own housekeeping, shopping, cooking and even renewed her license recently. Now, she was dependent on others, could not even wipe her own rear anymore but she always had a way of dealing with the harsh times.....she just kept going and paying attention to what was in front of her. She did not mourn her loss until much later when she realized she was not going to get back her ability to walk and use her right arm. She always said, "I will walk again". Then she had another mini stroke and she never said it again.
After our afternoon of bonding over "stinky" sandwiches, I brought her home for her nap. When we got back, dad was sleeping in his lazy boy recliner and when he saw his wife, he'd always say, "hello my honey". She would grin and flirt back. After mom was settled in bed, dad and I would go for a walk in the same park. My cousin lived at the other end of the park and we slowly worked dad up to walking to their home. They have a mansion of a home with a beautiful backyard with a swimming pool, comfortable lawn furniture, a restroom, a putting course and if dad was lucky his niece in-law would be home and dad could visit with her. They were friends and loved to talk. She was kind of a sister to me. She took care of me while I took care of my folks. She held me when I cried, she counselled me, made me laugh and she gave me the strength I needed to keep going on some days.
Well, this particular day, we started our walk and dad was feeling real confident and talking about how he never thought he could walk this far and that it felt good, etc. etc. Well, I had to use the restroom, so I found a nice curvaceous tree for dad to rest against while I went to the bathroom. Great idea huh? Only I totally forgot about him when I came out of the restroom and went a different direction to complete my walk. There I was enjoying my "break" from care giving, making calls on my cell phone and then when I saw someone with their elderly parent, a light bulb went off and I screamed, "OH SHIT". I was 54 years old then and I started running (something I am not used to), called my sister and told her what I had done, got hysterical, could not run for sure, in the middle of a field, bent over trying to get my breath, saying my mantra of "oh shit" the whole way, getting fits of giggles and finally arrived to find my dad still leaning up against the tree and him cussing me out, "where the hell have you been, shit, I'm about to fall over". When I saw him cursing at me, I for sure could not quit laughing and apologizing at the same time and he's saying things like, "you crazy girl, how could you forget me? I tried to explain I had a "brain fart". Every explanation I tried to give him was met with his response of "oh bullshit". He was so pissed at me that he walked with a big huff and we made it to my cousin's with no problem. Not so good a day.....sorta.
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I'm glad you finally did another post. It brings back memories somehow, not specifically, but I can see you, your Mom and especially your Dad in your words. By the way, what were you "smokin' in the girls room". I concur with Flavio.
ReplyDeleteHeartwarming and funny, this story shows what a devoted daughter you are. Except, ahem, when you left your Dad leaning against a tree. Hilarious. I hope you keep sharing your stories.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your encouragement Rachelle. I just checked out your blog. I like it. I love to cook too. Your family looks lovely. I will keep sharing.
ReplyDeleteI love the story......it certainly brings those times alive.
ReplyDelete