Thursday, November 16, 2000
Good to Be Home - To LTF
The news is good this time. Mom's NP and doctor are very pleased with my mother's progress. This morning her blood sugar was 154, which is excellent considering the Dawn Phenomenon. It's not uncommon for her to dip into normal range, always in the evening, both for Type II AO diabetics (80 - 120) and non-diabetics (70 - 110). She still has her sleep days which are always discouraging and upsetting for me.
But, "...we have you where we want you, Mrs. Hudson. How do you feel?" her doctor asks.
"Just great," she replies. She sounded enthusiastic. At 83 that's saying a lot.
Our yard man is 83. I know it sounds absurd having an 83 year old yard man. It's pretty much a formality. Before I came from Seattle he used to do Mom's yard work that she couldn't handle. Now I do a lot of the required stuff. He blows leaves (the leaf blower is his and he likes using it), picks up errant fruit and checks on our property when we're gone. I'm always surprised at how much he is willing to attempt, let alone how much he does. He gets lots of little injuries. I always keep a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and gauze bandages handy when we're both out there. All our plants, what few plants we have, are spiney, even the citrus trees. He insists on working side by side with me. Anyway, he told me the last time I was there, about 3 weeks ago, that he has Parkinson's. He said he only has it from the waist down and they just changed his medication to keep his legs from jumping at night and keeping him awake.
"You knew that, though, didn't you," he said. "I'll bet you've seen me shaking."
I haven't ever seen him shaking. I told him so.
He was surprised.
The new medication has a "working in" period, where he's expected to be more tired than usual. The doctor told him to go with it, "...just stay away from too many scotches in the afternoon."
"I thought you always only had one scotch," I said.
"Well, lately, 'till I got that new medication, I've been having two or so."
"Oh," I said. "So, now you're back to one?"
"If I can stay up for it."
In case you're wondering, our yard man is the old man in Eating Alone. Have you read it? Here is the pertinent section:
But, "...we have you where we want you, Mrs. Hudson. How do you feel?" her doctor asks.
"Just great," she replies. She sounded enthusiastic. At 83 that's saying a lot.
Our yard man is 83. I know it sounds absurd having an 83 year old yard man. It's pretty much a formality. Before I came from Seattle he used to do Mom's yard work that she couldn't handle. Now I do a lot of the required stuff. He blows leaves (the leaf blower is his and he likes using it), picks up errant fruit and checks on our property when we're gone. I'm always surprised at how much he is willing to attempt, let alone how much he does. He gets lots of little injuries. I always keep a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and gauze bandages handy when we're both out there. All our plants, what few plants we have, are spiney, even the citrus trees. He insists on working side by side with me. Anyway, he told me the last time I was there, about 3 weeks ago, that he has Parkinson's. He said he only has it from the waist down and they just changed his medication to keep his legs from jumping at night and keeping him awake.
"You knew that, though, didn't you," he said. "I'll bet you've seen me shaking."
I haven't ever seen him shaking. I told him so.
He was surprised.
The new medication has a "working in" period, where he's expected to be more tired than usual. The doctor told him to go with it, "...just stay away from too many scotches in the afternoon."
"I thought you always only had one scotch," I said.
"Well, lately, 'till I got that new medication, I've been having two or so."
"Oh," I said. "So, now you're back to one?"
"If I can stay up for it."
In case you're wondering, our yard man is the old man in Eating Alone. Have you read it? Here is the pertinent section:
Six months ago our yardman's wife died. He's a sprightly gentleman of 80. I worried that he might start "slipping", as do some older people who lose spouses. Two weeks ago we chatted on the patio. I'd opened the Arcadia door to ventilate the house. I was baking some spice cookies and the scent of cinnamon wafted out on the updraft.It was sunnier and warmer in our Prescott house than it was in Mesa. When we arrived in Mesa Mom said, "It's good to be back home." When we returned to Prescott Mom said, "It's good to be back home." I guess it's always good to be back home when you're 83.
"Mmmm," he said, "reminds me of my mother's coffee cake. Mildred (his deceased wife) didn't care for coffee cake. She was the cook, you know, until she couldn't, anymore. When I took over just about all she could eat was milk soup and toast, so that's all I fixed. All I ate, too. Couple of days ago I baked myself a coffee cake just like my mother's. Ate it for breakfast, lunch and dinner." He paused to brush a dry leaf into a pile he'd blown up for disposal. "Sure is nice to fix my favorite foods, again."
Here's a man who recognizes the joyous opportunities of eating alone. He'll be around for awhile.
