Aches and pains of everyday life

I’ve had a mild stomach ache for a few days. And headaches – possibly sinus issues. Worst of all, persistent pain in a muscle near my hip, which I suspect is compressing my sciatic nerve.

When I had these tales of woe as a young person, Mom would say it sounded like I had a case of the aches and pains of everyday life. I haven’t thought of that phrase in a long time, but it sure applies today. And it makes me smile to think about it, and to miss that simple exchange between mother and daughter. I was frustrated by that response as a kid. But I think now, as an adult, that it offers useful perspective. I am not actually ill, after all. Just a little inconvenienced.

I was thinking earlier about writing a post and I was going to attribute my aches and pains to stress. And maybe that’s a contributing factor. But I prefer the idea of just considering them a passing bunch of aches and pains that will come and go.

I do think I am experiencing a slow burn of steady stress, partly related to Mom, partly related to figuring out when our dog with cancer’s life is no longer worth living – for him, partly related to a variety of pains of everyday life that aren’t physical. Nothing so very serious. Just there. And sometimes more pronounced after I see Mom.

I visited the Alz center Saturday after a bit of a hiatus. The last time I had visited, Mom was sound asleep. I sat for a short while but she didn’t wake up so I didn’t stay. On Saturday, she was eating her lunch when I arrived. An aide was sitting beside her, alternately feeding another resident and feeding bites to Mom. This surprised me because as far as I knew, Mom was still able to feed herself, albeit usually without utensils.

I must have looked alarmed. I said, “Does she need to be fed?” And the aide said she just helps Mom when she has a chance. I didn’t mean to accuse her of anything but looking back, I think I sounded a little harsh. That just would have represented a big change – that I may or may not be prepared to accept. I really like this aide, and she is very good natured, so I don’t think she took any offense.

I sat down on Mom’s other side. I lifted a potato wedge to her mouth and she bit half of it off. She picked up chunks of chicken and ate those, too. I fed her some spoonfuls of ice cream but she eventually took the cup from me and slurped it all up. The aide put the glass of water near Mom and Mom grabbed the glass and said, “Water’s nice.” The aide helped with that interpretation. Which made my heart sink a little. I don’t hear Mom enough to be able to be the first to interpret her jumbled phrases.

When she was finished eating, I lifted her out of her chair to take a walk. Sometimes I’m timid about coaxing her to do something but I’ve seen her respond enough times to being pulled up by her hands that I gave it a try. As she got to her feet, she started tipping backward and I grabbed her and hugged her firmly. We both held the hug and laughed. And then we started to walk.

Mom continues to talk a lot, but doesn’t say many actual words. As we rounded a corner, though, she said, “I can’t understand. I can’t understand.” She seemed a little too distressed for my liking so I just told her it was OK, that she didn’t have anything to worry about. She found her way to a chair and sat down. I leaned on the arm of the couch next to her and watched her briefly. She kept her eyes downward and I assumed she might be tired. I put my face near hers but she wouldn’t look at me. She closed her eyes. So I kissed her cheek and left.

And I’ve been wondering ever since if Mom gets any joy at all out of my visits.

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2 comments so far

  1. patwhite67 on

    Emily,

    I believe that though your mom is often unable to express herself to you, that each time you are there with her, deep inside she is comforted by the warmth of your love.

  2. momsbrain on

    Hi, Pat. Great to hear from you. And thanks for your comforting words. It’s funny, I just said something similar to a friend describing visits to her ill father years ago – they didn’t talk much. But I told her I bet it meant the world to him that she visited.


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