(Readers who are missing RantWoman's recent threads of vids about abundant "makes one's head explode" news items and trenchant commentary are invited to use your own dang search engines for now. RantWoman is accumulating lots of things in Drafts that may or may not get posted. Live rants often available along with piquant narrative about matters more personal)
"Give us this day our daily...mush?"
For the record, RantMom has been at the rehab now for TWENTY EIGHT DAYS and only today did Little Sister see big signs over RantMom's bed saying "Liquid thickened with fruit pulp and finely minced or chopped meat" and "One on one feeding." RantWoman did not see the signs yesterday and Little Sister assures RantWoman that the signs are Neon and hard to miss even with RantWoman's bad eyes. If this actually occurs this would be a WELCOME variant from the too spice sausages and meat too tough for someone with dental partials to chew.
Previous visitations from the dietician have brough spinach which RantMom apparently ate with enthusiasm and during one of RantWoman's visits a GIANT pile of cooked carrots and some kind of mystery casserole. The aide came in and fed RantMom about two bites. RantMom sweetly wanted to share with RantWoman and RantWoman induced RantMom to eat about one more bite of carrot but declined to share on multiple grounds.
Fingers and bib?
That day RantMom had eaten part of a piece of pie before RantWoman came. While RantWoman was there, RantMom at one point thought about eating more but did not ask to have the head of the bed raised. Using the fork was not working so RantWoman at one point moved the paper plate with the rest of the pie to where RantMom could reach it. RantMom ate a good bit more of it with her hands.
RantMom at the rehab has, for a time, sometimes trying to feed herself. Little Sister pointed out that there is supposed to be a bib each day, but the bib does not get put on and RantWoman did not even know it was there. Other times she was asking for help and the help was in a hurry. RantMom has been eating slowly and not big portions for a long time even before the latest rounds of "health care." RantMom has enthusiastically accepted both offers to be fed by family and offers of small servings of treats like roast yam and cranberry sauce. RantWoman happened to be visiting a grocery store that had several flavors of fruit mush packets to have on hand. Yesterday, after RantWoman figured out how to get the dang thing opened, RantMom drank about 2/3 of a packet, so keep a supply of those.
Trajectory and grey zone
RantWoman's food rant is part of a long thread of opportunities to beat oneself about not paying attention to LOTS of things. At the same time, after the second most recent trip to a hospital for IV antibiotics, RantMom disclosed that she has a DNR and gave RantWoman a copy of her POLST form, something to digest along with RantMom making excuses about not going to PT, falling asleep a lot, not always making it to meals... There would also be previous cycles of doing better after antibiotics, only to slump again. RantWoman is definitely grappling with the reality that RantMom's body is not in great shape even before getting dumped rambling incoherently at the Rehab.
RantWoman is also wondering whether having the DNR on file, along with excuses about poor staffing over the holidays affected how people interacted with RantMom, even before one takes into account incentives from Medicare Advantage. In other words, RantWoman is having no trouble finding reasons just to be spitting nails.
For a while after the latest infection cleared and RantMom was getting IV fluids instead of antibiotics, RantMom was doing MUCH better. Speech therapy is making a difference and her speech is MUCH more intelligible. Some of the time she is coherent but that comes and goes. RantWoman is unclear how much the doctor has explained to RantMom about all the bodily systems that are running very thin. RantMom also has bleeding from something in her urinary tract so she is anemic. Little Sister and RantWoman have both declined suggestions about blood transfusions but have made sure RantMom is getting an iron supplement.
So where are we after all of the above "give us this day our daily bread" exposition?
Walking in faith
A couple days ago, RantMom said she wishes someone would tell her whether she will ever walk again. RantWoman was stilled from temptation to say "Well, if you eat better and drink your fluids and do your PT, maybe." Reality: PT exhausted RantMom when she went at it. RantWoman also did not soummon the words to say "well you're going to be walking with Jesus and we don't know where that is going to take you," more or less what her pastor said at her last visit.
Funny moment: neither RantMom nor RantWoman when she arrived while the pastor was visiting recognized the pastor. Turns out, the pastor's hair bleaches out a lot in the summertime, so it's not just a cognition test.
And speaking of the pastor, she is familiar with the Adult family home where RantMom is headed. Previously a parishioner had spent a good length of time there. The building is owned by a nearby Greek Orthodox church. This sounds lovely--well, except for the priest who needed to fly over one day and lecture the pastor about being a woman minister.
Lord help us all.
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