1. 5:15 this morning
“Do you know there's a (loud whisper) baby in our house?”
“Really?” First thing in the morning I'm not capable of much conversation and it its 5:15am.
“I heard a baby. Do you suppose someone forgot a baby and left it here?”
“Remember yesterday afternoon when Tasha brought her little girl over? They spent the night and are going home later today.”
“Did she leave her baby?”
“No, she's with her little one.” As if Tasha would leave her little one anywhere! That is one well-loved baby! Besides, I haven't heard a peep out of the child. She's certainly not crying.
“She's hungry. I heard her giggling earlier and Angela used to do that in the morning before she got hungry.” Now that makes sense. He's connecting past events with current ones. And he's doing it logically! We've worked on that since his second stroke with little response.
“Can you make her some pancakes?”
“Well, she's still too little for pancakes. Tasha'll feed her. Do you want pancakes?” I can't say I'm really interested in making them right now, but if that's what he really wants, I will.
“I want oatmeal. Children like pancakes and bacon.”
“When she's older I'll make pancakes and bacon. She's too little right now. Let me fix you oatmeal.”
All week we've been reevaluating our schedule. There are things I want to accomplish and obviously I need to schedule them because it's just not happening otherwise. Also, parts of Boo's daily schedule don't seem to working anymore. He's actually made lots of suggestions in bits and pieces all week.
Boo wants to participate in our home life and will work to be able to do so. He also understands the importance of continuing his physical and occupational therapy exercises even though he no longer needs home health visits. Lately we've had issues getting him to take walks and I need to understand the reason behind that. Is he still too unfamiliar with our yard and neighborhood to feel comfortable? Are there balance or navigation problems that aren't immediately obvious? Does he need new sunglasses? The sun really does bother his eyes. He's also sleeping more. Do his medications need to be reevaluated or adjusted? Does he need more stimulation? Or perhaps different types of stimulation? Is there an underlying physical problem that isn't being addressed? Do we need to start the day later or go to bed earlier? Etc., etc.
By taking all week to talk and not rushing the process, Boo has been more able to communicate his needs and wants---and things that bother him. He just can't do it all at once. Sometimes he had definite opinions about what he wants to do or not do. Other times he feels a general unease and can't pinpoint the specific issue. With suggestions, he'll usually decide what he wants to try first to “fix” the unease.
This past week our local church recommended a website through Facebook. Boo and I looked at it. It provides daily links to the lectionary readings, a reflection for the day and a short video. It also includes reflections on the pope's monthly prayer intentions. Given Boo's difficulty concentrating, these short daily devotional helps seem to be ideal. This past week they've been just right. Here's the link to the Apostleship of Prayer.
“Why lose your temper if by doing so you offend God, annoy other people, upset yourself...and have to find it again in the end? Say what you have just said, but in a different tone, without anger and your argument will grow in strength and, above all, you won't offend God.”
From The Way by Jose Maria Escriva
Tomorrow I'm going to make a black-eyed pea hummus, frozen yogurt and slow cooker bread. I've never made bread in a slow cooker, but it sounds simple and shouldn't heat the kitchen nearly as much as the oven. Today I need to make yogurt (in the slow cooker) in preparation for tomorrow. I'm just not in the mood to spend long in the kitchen these days, but I still like to eat.
This is one of Boo's favorite poems this week. I read poems to him at least one a day and he's asked to have this one reread several times.
I Remember, I Remember
Thomas Hood 1799-1845
I remember, I remember, The house where I was born, The little window where the sun Came peeping in at morn; He never came a wink too soon, Nor brought too long a day, But now, I often wish the night Had borne my breath away! I remember, I remember, The roses, red and white, The vi'lets, and the lily-cups, Those flowers made of light! The lilacs where the robin built, And where my brother set The laburnum on his birthday,-- The tree is living yet! I remember, I remember, Where I was used to swing, And thought the air must rush as fresh To swallows on the wing; My spirit flew in feathers then, That is so heavy now, And summer pools could hardly cool The fever on my brow!
I remember, I remember, The fir trees dark and high; I used to think their slender tops Were close against the sky: It was a childish ignorance, But now 'tis little joy To know I'm farther off from heav'n Than when I was a boy. 7.
Yesterday Boo's prescription medications were delivered. In the midst of all that we had to do, I neglected to check to ensure that we'd received all his medications. This morning I did check and lo and behold, he was missing one. Now, he doesn't actually run out of this medication until next Friday, but his meds are only delivered once a month. We've used this particular pharmacy because they deliver and have had no problems for just over a year. Anticipating all kinds of problems, after all it is my responsibility to check before the delivery person leaves, I called. I was shocked and surprised when the person I reached not only handled the situation promptly and politely, but also thanked us for using their service. Customer service is alive and well---at least in some places.