I made myself some toast with Nutella and coffee, washed up and changed my clothes from my suitcase hiding in the extra room. I really like this hair color. So glad it's not Ronald McDonald or Pippi Longstocking -ish.
I heard her moving around and helped her get up and into the bathroom. Made a mental note to tell Marco to bring home prune juice. Constipation is likely after surgery too, plus with the drugs she's on. Text messaged him before I forgot. She was moving even slower today than she was yesterday. I gave her a sitz bath without much protestation. Changed the dressings. On her arm and leg, but just had a glance at the chest incision to make sure it wasn't inflamed. I didn't like her pallor. I asked her to please have a cup of tea and a biscuit before going to church. Please? You didn't eat anything but a little soup yesterday. Please eat something for me before we go. You need strength to get up the stairs. She smiled weakly and said “Okay cara.” She had three sips of chamomile tea and a bite of biscotti dunked into it. Reminds me a lot of my Grandma Ilene when she would go along with whatever you asked because she didn't want to make waves in her last years. I don't like this. Too pliant.
Marco came home with a bottle of prune juice. She smiled when she saw it. “Come sei?” How did you know? He answered that I told him to get it. She patted my hand. Okay, maybe that's why she doesn't want to eat. I finished getting her dressed and ready for church. Her hair looks lovely, she remarked. Okay, big coat on and scarves on head and around neck. Cane, wheelchair, we were out the door. Slowly slowly down the stairs. She motioned for the wheelchair at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at me. In English I said “I think she's going backwards.” Granted she really just needs to get up and down the stairs a few times a day, but I'm worried that she started out not using the wheelchair on day 1, then day 2 she used it on the way back from church but day 3 she's using it on the way to church. I also said I don't like her color. We got to the church and it took a lot of effort for her to go up the stairs. I glanced at Marco. His jaw was set. He's worried now too.
Leaving the church, we took her out the back and around the side, since there are no stairs. She walked it but halfway back to the house she stopped and asked for the chair. Okay Mamma. Let's get home. She got up the stairs okay, but very slow. I made her some more herbal tea, as she gets no caffeine for a while, some yogurt and a piece of toast. “Niente.” She wanted none of it. Just a few bites. Please. You can't have the medicine without eating something. Two spoons of yogurt. A bite of toast. A swallow of prune juice. “Provio Kricka. Io prometto” I'm trying Kricka. I promise..
That made me want to cry. She's not being stubborn. She just doesn't have an appetite. I don't want to badger her but I won't let her not have nutrients. But if I have to squirt Pedialyte down her gullet to keep her hydrated I will. She patted my hand. Okay Mamma. We'll try later.
I suggested to Marco that he leave a message fore her doctor. He will want to be notified that her appetite has taken a dive. He went to look up the number and make the call.
It was a quiet day. He didn't sleep much, but she did. She nodded off in her chair a few times. I really did not like her pallor. We tried getting her to eat some more for lunch. She had about a half cup of soup and a sip of prune juice and went to lay down. The doctor called back and they scheduled an appointment for her for tomorrow. Keep giving her fluids. If she became weaker we would need to bring her in immediately. I told him he needed to get some sleep. She was napping. He didn't need to sit over her. Go to bed. Ok.
I woke them up for dinner at 7PM. She looked practically grey at this point. She hadn't had her afternoon exercise and I decided not to push the evening exercise either. Let it wait until after she sees the doctor. Maybe the stairs are overdoing it so soon. Maybe she just needs to walk around the apartment a lot more for periods of time. She just wanted tea. I told her please have something more. I could make her some rice and butter. That's good for a queasy stomach. No. Just tea. He tried talking her into something more. She ate two crackers. We both told her that she looks very sick now. Please tell us how she feels. She said she doesn't feel well at all. Finally.
When she stood up she faltered but caught herself on the table. “Call the paramedics Marco. She needs to go – now.” I grabbed jackets, the afghan off her chair, the cane and the wheelchair. He scooped her up and started down the stairs. When we got to the foyer and had her in the chair he placed the call. She was alert and was not making any protestations to us. We heard the ambulance boat's sirens a few minutes later and he went out to flag them down to which building we were in. They came in with the gurney and sat her on it, strapped her in and wheeled her out. Marco went in the ambulance with her. I told him I would lock the apartment up, bring her purse and her meds and be there ASAP. He called me a watertaxi, saying “no vaporetto now.” Okay. They were gone faster than the neighbors could gather outside. I arrived about ten minutes after they did.
It was a long night. They got her stabilized and started IV fluids. There were consultations and decisions made for the next few days. She will stay at least two and have a battery of tests. The hotel told Marco to stay home for at least a week, they'll get coverage handled for him.
1 comment:
Stay strong Kris. I know that your being there helps both of them. Lots of good thoughts for Mama now.
Post a Comment