Mom & Me Five Archive

...getting back to actually recording, here, even though I've been here daily constructing the Alternate Label Index, which will eventually become the only Label Index. For the last few days I haven't paid attention to my reluctance to record, as it's not uncommon for me to take breaks for a variety of reasons. This morning, though, I realized that I am finally processing my grief over having managed to lose the rest of my family, even as my mother and I daily become more tightly bound as we accompany each other through her Ancient and my middle years.
    The grief processing is certainly overdue. It's mixed, too, with grief over the realization that, regardless of my hand in the loss (and, I consider that I had a heavy hand in it), I haven't the emotional energy to try to patch what one of the physicians interviewed for the PBS production of Living Old referred to as the "rip" that is so common in the fabric of families of those with Ancient Ones who require intense needs care.
    It's not unusual for me to take awhile to process the trash left by a series of emotional quakes. Funny thing is, in this case, I thought I'd processed the grief, I thought I'd been doing that, sporadically, for close to a year, but I guess all I'd done was become aware of items littering the landscape. The only aspect of this process of which I am sure is what triggered it: One of my sisters mentioned that she and her husband were beginning to make plans to visit us in April of this year. She mentioned that she remembered and understood, from last year, that this is the least felicitous time for us to receive a visit, but it's the best time for them. I silently, wearily, took note of the fact that I have a long way to go before I complete the the process of convincing my sisters that we are no longer "the flexible ones". When I looked to the horizon to see if I could glimpse the end of the road, I saw that it continued over the edge of the world...and I lost heart. Hmmmm..., I thought. Doesn't look like there's family anywhere along the section I can see. It's entirely possible that there isn't any family at the end, either. I may very well be on the wrong road, but I'm too tired to survey the terrain for a more likely route, so, at least for the time being, I'll keep trudging down this one. After all, if there is an alternate route that includes family, although it may become more distant as I continue traveling this one, it will not disappear. Maybe I'll be more inspired to search for it during one of my regular periods of revival.
    Anyway, processing the grief seems to be making it difficult for me to record anything, including stats over at the Dailies.
    I'm assuming I'll move past this particular bump in the road in fairly short order, as is typical of me. In the meantime, know that as far as Mom is concerned, she's doing fine, avoiding the cold outside. We finally had enough snow, yesterday, so that I awoke, this morning in the middle of this year's late arriving Christmas Card, although the sun has destroyed most of the "Christmas" part of the "Card", now. Other than the sudden spasms of deep grief that grip me every couple of hours, I'm doing fine; slow and confused, but essentially fine.
    I'm planning a blood draw for this coming week, although not on Monday, since that's when everyone and their dog shows up at the lab for testing. I've made Mom's six-month appointment (March 22nd) with her PCP in Mesa. I expect it to be as routine as usual, with only one change in her medical routine: Boosting her lisinopril dosage from two 10 mg tablets per day to three, as this seems to be what now works for her. Her blood draw will tell me how her various physical parts are faring, but I expect it to indicate that all her Ancient conditions are remaining stable, since this is what observation is telling me.
    Anyway, hmmm...later, I guess.