Sorry I haven’t been keeping up on my blog reading … or my blogging. I do read all your messages and comments on my smartphone, and I share all your kind words with my mother. She sends her gratitude and says she feels so loved.
The Dowager Duchess is still flat on her back in bed in hospital. She’s being well looked after and, as soon her infection is under control, the Cardiac team will do a stress test (that she doesn’t have to sit up for) and, with that team’s OK, the Neurology team will then perform the surgery (vertebroplasty). It looks like the surgery won’t be performed until Monday at the soonest. So the Duchess will continue to lounge around for the next several days.
I wish I could say my mother is lounging around eating bon-bons. But she doesn’t have much of an appetite. I couldn’t even get her to taste my chocolate-dipped shortbread cookie today. Clearly she’s not feeling well! It doesn’t help that her right hand is in a splint, making it difficult to do much of anything.
Did I mention my mother broke her hand when she fell? She said it hit the night table and was “a bit” bruised. Ten days later, when we were in the ER, she noticed it had swelled. It was X-rayed. It was broken. Nothing major. Her fingers work just fine, but it had to be splinted — covering up her lovely green nails and requiring her to do everything one-handed, and lefty at that.
|I HAD TO REMOVE THE RING. HER FINGERS WERE A BIT PUFFY.
IT’S THE FIRST TIME SHE’S REMOVED THE ENAMEL HEART RING
SINCE MY SISTER GAVE IT TO HER IN 1970.
I’ve been encouraging my mother to eat and she’s been doing her best. I even “cooked up” one of my specialties to make her food more palatable.
|SHE ATE THE ENTIRE BANANA, ONE ARTFUL SLICE AT A TIME.|
My mother is being treated for the pain, which makes her a bit dopey.
When San Geraldo and I were visiting Tuesday morning, she pointed to her “bed across the room.” We both looked perplexed.
San Geraldo asked, “What bed are you in now?”
The Duchess responded, “I’m not in bed. I’m in my lounge chair.”
I said, “But, Mom, how are you managing? You haven’t sat up since Saturday night.”
She looked around, rolled her eyes, and laughed. “I hope that’s the codeine,” she said.
“It is,” I said. “And, by the way, you don’t have a lounge chair.”