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My body? Doing pretty well! I've started having days where it doesn't feel as if I'm being stabbed in the ball of my foot. My bunion still looks funny, but it doesn't hurt, and that's huge. Knees? Still OK. Toes? Check. Cough? Not gone, incredibly after six weeks, but much better. I'm in good shape for visiting my mom next week.
Speaking of my mom, my sisters mercifully waited until after 0600 Pacific to start the text conversation in which they described my mother's new inability to remember who my niece E was as the two of them talked on the phone. Mom had what Evil Sister called a "memory loop": she'd have the same conversation with E twice within five minutes. This is, as ES puts it, "a very bad sign". As things stand now, Mom looks as if she's months at the most from needing dementia care.
Meanwhile, Good Sister is wrangling Mom's neurologist, trying to get Mom back (!) on memory meds. It looks as if an actual diagnosis as to which flavor of dementia Mom has is going to have to wait until February, well after I leave. My main mission while there is to get Mom some glasses; she has, of course, lost hers.
I wonder if I'll see E while I'm down there. I certainly wouldn't mind. Her mother, Evil Sister, has been relatively nice to me lately, even expressing sympathy about getting paged awake at 0400 Monday. Remember when I called my Good & Evil Sisters my Brunette and Strawberry Blonde Sisters, respectively? That would have been about ten years ago. I want that back.
Speaking of my mom, my sisters mercifully waited until after 0600 Pacific to start the text conversation in which they described my mother's new inability to remember who my niece E was as the two of them talked on the phone. Mom had what Evil Sister called a "memory loop": she'd have the same conversation with E twice within five minutes. This is, as ES puts it, "a very bad sign". As things stand now, Mom looks as if she's months at the most from needing dementia care.
Meanwhile, Good Sister is wrangling Mom's neurologist, trying to get Mom back (!) on memory meds. It looks as if an actual diagnosis as to which flavor of dementia Mom has is going to have to wait until February, well after I leave. My main mission while there is to get Mom some glasses; she has, of course, lost hers.
I wonder if I'll see E while I'm down there. I certainly wouldn't mind. Her mother, Evil Sister, has been relatively nice to me lately, even expressing sympathy about getting paged awake at 0400 Monday. Remember when I called my Good & Evil Sisters my Brunette and Strawberry Blonde Sisters, respectively? That would have been about ten years ago. I want that back.
