Busy day. Got figuratively head-butted by my out-of-town/staying-until-tomorrow sister-in-law, but since I'm not doing any wrestling anymore, will just turn the other cheek. Wasn't prepared for her anger, but thankful she'll leave soon. Ain't got time for that. This situation is about my mom, not my SIL.
Now to the best part of the day. Very best. After passing her barium swallowing test this afternoon, Mom was approved for real food. She's still on a vitamin/electrolyte IV, and until she can actually get some calories in her, it'll stay that way. But tonight she got a pureed dinner, and she said it tasted so wonderful. She had me try it, and it was actually tasty. She only ate about a tablespoon or more, just enough to tire her out, but well done, I thought.
Part two of best time of the day. After she'd rested from dinner, I asked if she wanted to put on any make-up, and she did. While her aim with the blush brush was lacking, I was able to help her with that and then put on a dab of mascara. Vanity is a definite positive. And she held her haircomb, not able to raise her arm to her hair right off the bat, but gradually it worked. She said it's not because of a weak arm, so much as she has to tell her arm what to do. Also, her speech is improving.
The universe outside her room stopped existing while we were doing that. It was just us. Totally absorbed in what we were doing. Best part of the day.
But I won't lie. This is the hardest thing I've ever done, including giving birth to eight children without pain killers. The emotional drain is almost more than I can stand. The end is not in sight. The future, even immediate is totally out of my hands. Victories help balance it out, but with visitors, doctor's detailed and scary explanations, being out in the world more than I'm used to, and the unseen problems connected with my mom's stroke including the artery blockage that remains, I had a moment this afternoon with her room full of company and while I was on the phone with one of my brothers when I just wanted to let out a scream.
And that's the best that I can do. Thankfully, that's enough.
