Mission Accomplished

It seems incredible that the removal of a largish-smallish bump on a wrist could take all day. But it did. I started getting myself ready at about 8:30 and her ready at about 9:30 this morning and we finally got home at around 6 PM. Thank goodness August came to help carry her in her wheelchair outside and then this evening inside again because there's no way she could have gotten up or down the stairs. What do other people do? I guess they don't.

The nurses were so absolutely lovely. I think they were quite smitten with Mary. She, for her part, at least on the way there, was outraged. She kept demanding that I take her back home and saying that there was nothing wrong with her and asking over and over where we were going and why. I guess when we got there, she figured there was no more protesting or else she was a bit cowed by the seriousness of finding herself in a hospital gown in a hospital bed with nurses doing things to her. Finally (I say with a sort of relief), her hand did start to hurt her again. The relief was short-lived, though, because she kept telling me it was hurting, to which I'd reply that that was precisely why we were there at the hospital.

Unfortunately, her platelets were high and they heard some noises in her lungs, so they decided to do a chest x-ray. Apparently, the surgeon was not happy about that and was chomping on the bit. He said it was the fifth ganglian cyst he'd operated on today. He may be a great surgeon, but he had zip personality. Hm. Maybe he's having a hard time at the moment. I should be more...what's the word? Sympathetic? At any rate, we have to go back to see him (when he'll remove the bandages) this Thursday, so I'll have another chance to see if he really is so flat a character. Not that it matters. I shouldn't be so judgemental...

So they said that everything went fine. She's got a huge amount of bandages on her arm and hand and she has to keep it elevated above her heart or wear a sling if she gets up. It looks like we'll be camped out in the living room for another week. I'm rather enjoying sleeping on the floor. I always have enjoyed sleeping in places I wasn't supposed to--like the couch.

I finshed listening to another audiobook--The End of Summer by Rosamund Pilcher. I really like her a lot. The lady who was reading had a Scottish accent and now I keep hearing a voice with a Scottish accent in my head! I think I'd really like to live there for a bit. If everyone is as RP describes them, that is. They seem a bit standoffish and unemotional but still quite honest. Hm. That could describe a German as well!

It's rather lonely around here at the moment. The kitty has stolen my chair. Mary is sleeping very soundly. I wonder if I should give her another Darvocet. She's due for it. I don't want her to start hurting. But if she's sleeping...I hate to wake her up. She didn't sleep well last night. (That means I didn't either!) She compained a lot about her hand, so I gave her a Darvocet and an Aleve over the course of the day. Then the only thing left was the Tramadol, so I gave her that finally at 7:15 last night. Well, it really went to her head. She saw all kinds of people and kept asking me about them. I was trying to make springerles. I finally finished up and went to bed around 10:30. She just kept talking to people and asking me questions. She kept asking why all these people were in her living room, why was that man on the ceiling, shouldn't those little ones be in bed, where was her lamp, she wanted to go home... and yelling for me. I answered a few times (sometimes with some expletives, I admit) and sat next to her on her chair. Nothing seemed to help much, so by 2 AM I told her I just wasn't going to answer anymore. She said my face was covered with ants, there were ants everywhere. I felt sick to my stomach. I had done that to her. But she didn't seem to be freaking out, more making comments. Well, except about her lamp. She was quite angry about that. I guess she finally wore herself out. At one point I got up and listened to see if she was still breathing. I wondered if I'd caused her to have a heart attack. Usually she breathes so loudly. Oh, it was so funny at the hospital today. After the nurse put the IV in, she asked Mary if it was ok. Mary said no, it hurt. The nurse finished up, giving Mary some medicine/drugs through the IV. Mary made another coment about how it still wasn't good and then the next second let out the loudest snore. We all had a good laugh ;-)

I'll be so glad when she gets back to normal. Back to herself. She was still talking to people a bit tonight and reaching for things in the air that weren't there. I gave her the liquid from the hash I'd made last night and a few spoonfuls of jello and, of course, a cup of coffee (I got some Sanka--it's not bad) and even a couple of springerles. It's a new recipe. They're delicious! But all the patterns faded away in the oven. There was so much butter in the recipe. But, hell, these would be worth just cutting into squares and making without the pattern!

I guess I'll go back to my knitting. At this rate I might finish Mary's afghan soon! (I've been working on it for a few years now.) I'm going to listen next to Dragonrider by Cornelia Funke.

Helpless

I'm so ashamed of myself. All last night I felt so sorry for myself because Mary was being such a bother. All night I heard her making noises and paid no attention, this morning begging her to let me sleep a little longer. I'm so dumb! I thought she kept leaning over and messing in the trash can. It didn't occur to me, the idiot, that she had fallen over and couldn't sit back up. She knew something was wrong with her and was worried and I was just annoyed that she wouldn't be quiet.

I finally got a clue this morning around 7:30 and helped her sit up. Actually, I got scared b/c I started thinking that maybe she'd had a stroke. I sat her up and she said she had to use the potty. She wanted to know why she couldn't move her right arm or talk properly. She just kept mumbling. I think I may have shouted something at one point and her eyes flew open and she talked quite normally. Maybe that was after the potty. But it didn't last long.

I knew it would be hard getting her on the potty because she was so out of it and my back was killing me--from lifting her all week and sleeping on the floor. I lifted her up--she couldn't even manage to put her good arm around my neck. She reached out and grabbed the potty chair and as I lifted her up, she lifted the chair up. I yelled at her to put it down. I was freaking out, as you can imagine, lifting 105 lb and not having anywhere to put it. She got her feelings all hurt because I yelled at her! I told her I was just stressed and freaked out. Boy, she carried on and carried on about my yelling at her. On the potty she couldn't sit up straight. I kept trying to hold her up but it was like she was pushing against sitting up. I never can get her pants down quickly enough, so the back of them always gets wet. I hate to change them just because of this (I'm using Poise and they aren't cheap), but I wouldn't want wet undies in the back. Plus, that could cause skin problems.

As usual, whenever I take a wet wipe and wipe her urethra (is that right?), she pees again. She'll sit there without peeing but the moment I do that, it comes running out again. She did a fair amount, which is good. I barely managed to get her undies and pants back up. She just couldn't hold on to me or stand. I always think of the Hulk in moments like that and pray that God will give me the extra strength I need. I had to sit her down once but then I managed to get her onto the chair. Luckily, I can lift the foot right away to keep her from sliding out. Then I run around to the back and pull her up under the armpits. Her poor armpits are bruised and I'm sure they must be sore from me yanking on them. You know, this helpless state, isn't that the way the majority of old people are? I mean, haven't we been lucky that none of the aunts have been like this permanently?

When I got her in her chair and straightened her up, she seemed to be more with it. She just kept asking me what was wrong with her. Her hand burned a bit, but she meant the drugged out state, not the pain. I wondered whether I should give her anything else, since her hand was hurting. The only thing I've given her since I came in yesterday was an Aleve, I believe. I take notes, but after a while your brain is so muddled, you're not sure if you took notes properly. I try to write out when the next few pills are due, so I can be ready at the proper time but sometimes I don't give it to her then, and then I get confused. I try to put an X through the time if I didn't give it to her then and to cross it out straight through if I did, but my system doesn't always hold up under my duress, as in the case of this last night. Anyway, she was with it enough to not want me to give her anything else! She said she was afraid to take anything else.

I thought maybe some coffee would do her good and she said she'd take some if I thought it would help. I said I thought she seemed better and she said, no, she wasn't. Then I remembered that I had to give her her early morning pills and she can't have anything to eat or drink for an hour afterwards, so I gave those to her, explaining what each one was for (low thyroid, indigestion, poor circulation). The I asked if she wanted to listen to her church music. She said she did, which was a relief to me as it was a sign of normalcy. I put some music on and warmed up her booties since her toes were cold. She was out of it by then. I went in the kitchen to make myself some tea. (I've been drinking big, double-sized cups with sugar. I only put sugar in my tea as a treat when I'm feeling stressed out.) A couple of times she called me back into the living room. She wanted to know if I was still there. You know, I think as she was stuck leaning over the chair all night, she wondered where she was and where I was, why I wasn't there to help her. I feel so awful. Like such a traitor.

She also called me back because she was seeing things. She'd said earlier that she'd seen two bugs. I feel even worse. She was stuck leaning over the edge of the chair all night and was seeing bugs. That would be enough to make me lose my mind.

Now she's snoring occasionally, which I take also as a good sign of normalcy. At least she's asleep. Last night she kept saying she couldn't sleep. Maybe because she'd done nothing but sleep for several days. I wonder if these drugs stay in her system longer and if they've been sort of accumulating, so to say. Well, at least her hand isn't hurting her and that's definitely something to be happy about.

She just asked me to turn the music down--thank goodness! I turned it down, she kept saying what I thought was "lower" and then she said, "Can't you turn it up any higher than that?" Argh! Then she somehow saw the cat and said, "Hi, Kitty! We've got two cats?" "No, just one," I answered. Should I have said, "Uh-huh," and left it at that?

Well, I'm going to go digging in my knitting needles. I've got a crazy idea that I want to make a lace poncho for my goddaughter. Like I'll be able to finish by Xmas. Ha! (My idea was that a lace pattern would be quicker.) You know how you get these ideas in your head and just can't get them out? I have also had this idea for years now to make vintage aprons. Pretty ones, not the ugly ones you see on the internet. And ones that are made of useful materials. Apparently, aprons are back in but just the flimsy, decorative ones. Those don't interest me. I'm into practical things. Practical but pretty.

Restless

She is so restless tonight. She just won't settle down. She's also saying she won't sleep out here in the living room, even though I've explained why and that I'll be sleeping right in front of her on the floor. She's not really awake, but she just keeps moving around and picking at things and talking. I was trying to listen to my audiobook and she just kept asking me questions. She especially kept making the comment, "We don't want to see each other die." I think she thought Angie or Anna was here. Maybe she's thinking about Angie being sick. I tried the TV but she didn't pay any attention to it. I'm going to turn the computer off and lie down. I can't imagine going to sleep so early, but if it helps her...

I've turned out all the other lights, but it hasn't done any good. I'd get out my walkman, but I'm afraid I won't hear her. In her state she's likely to put her chair down and get up!

She was due a Darvocet about an hour ago, but she's not complaining about her hand and hasn't said anything about it for so long, I think I'll leave it till around midnight. I've had a brace on her hand all day and that may have helped.

She kind of woke up around eleven and ate a whole banana. I couldn't believe it. I don't think she's eaten a whole banana in years! Then she had to use the potty. It surprises me that I don't mind wiping her in the least--if she can get her legs open. It's rather like wiping a baby. I think if you love a person, then it really doesn't bother you. But sometimes the stench is rather overwhelming!

I hope they call me tomorrow to give me some instructions. If I don't hear from them by noon, I'll call the office b/c I need to know about whether to give her any medication before she goes to the hospital. Luckily August says he can help me carry her chair out to the car b/c she can't walk in her current state.

It's been rather lonely here tonight with her being so out of it. Last night was fun but tonight was a bit lonely and depressing, just like when I lived alone.

I took Anna her Xmas present today. She was as friendly as ever she was before a year ago. She acted like she was tickled pink about the present and told me about how she uses a heating pad at night. But you never know with Anna. She's likely to tell someone else about how extravagent or silly a gift it was. I hope she and Angie use the booties.

I feel so awful about Mary's current state. Did I give her too many drugs? Why is she like this? Did Bonnie give her the wrong pills?

Sleeping Reprieve

I feel like such a rat, keeping Mary so drugged all the time. I spread her medicine out a bit more during the night but this morning she woke up and was complaining about her hand, so I gave her some more. She kept saying that she couldn't move her arm and that her hand was so cold. I heated a "bean bag" and put it under her hand and then she started saying it was burning. She just kept asking what was wrong with it and why couldn't she move it. I'm so tired of telling her, "You've got a cyst on your wrist and it must be pressing on a nerve." It's partly so annoying because it rhymes. Why is that so annoying? I told her several times to let it rest and not try to move it. When I asked if she wanted to go back to sleep, she said no, so I made her some coffee, which she took two sips of and proceeded to fall back asleep, so I pushed her chair back into a reclining position. I just let her sleep in her lazy boy all night--in case I had to put her on the potty. It's so much easier to get her in and out of her chair, although last night I really almost cried because I thought I wasn't going to be able to manage it in her combined drugged and handless state. This has all made me quite fearful about what I'll do if Mary lives so long that she becomes really incapacitated. I don't think I could handle her alone.

I'm concerned that she's not eating and therefore also not having a bowel movement. She managed about a cup of broth yesterday. That was it. Well, a bit of Coke and a bit of Ginger Ale, too. I think I'll mix some Benefiber in with some broth today. I should also try to get her to drink a bit of her juice with potassium in it. I don't want her potassium level sinking too low. You know, I can just see her ending up in the hospital because of all of this. I mean, I have tried to continue her medication, but there's one drug that needs to be given with food, so I haven't been able to give her that. And she hasn't gotten her potassium, either. And regardless of my playing it cool to her, I am quite concerned that she said she couldn't move her arm. Maybe it was just the drugs speaking because she did seem to be able to move it. I feel so all alone and so unhelped. I feel like none of the doctors or medical staff has taken her seriously. Do they really care so little about old people?

I'm also concerned that she hasn't brushed her teeth for days. Can I brush them for her? I don't want her to choke. And if I wake her up, she'll just start complaining about her hand again. Luckily, it seems that if I start singing Brahms' Lullaby or I'll Take You Home Again, Kathleen, she slips off to sleep, or Sleepytown, as she calls it.

Yesterday when Bonnie came in and asked how she was, even though she'd been in horrible pain and sleeping all day, she sat bolt upright and her eyes popped open and she said, "I'm fine, honey!" She soon resumed her sleep, though, and Bonnie says she slept all the while I was gone. However, as soon as I got back, her hand started hurting again.

I have to admit, it was nice to not have to watch TV last night. For once to be able to keep it off and not have those blaring commercials and stupid laugh-track. I listened to The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funke--a book on tape I'd gotten out of the library. It's really so good. She's a German author who is so popular that her books are printed simultaneously in English as well as German.

Oh, Mom and I went out to visit Angie yesterday, to take her the Xmas present from Mary--booties that can be warmed in the microwave. She thought they were ugly till I heated them and put them on her and then she thought they were heavenly :-) Mary had the same reaction. I'm so glad Mom got to see Angie. I tell you, those women, that family, they're so unemotional. Is that German stoicism? The Beislers and Zimmermanns were from southern Germany, so they shouldn't have been so stoic. But I guess all Germans are rather unemotional compared to other nationalities--except when they're not. I'm blabbering. But it's true that Germans tend to be extreme, whatever they are being.

I almost finished putting up the Xmas decorations last night. It's hard to get in the mood when Mary doesn't care. Oh, I also went down and got Angie's Xmas tree. Annette had taken all the lights and decorations off of it. Silly girl, but she insists on doing things her way. Angie is the one who taught me to just leave everything on the tree and throw a trash bag over it before stowing it away. I put the lights on it and put it in the living room and plugged it in, but I couldn't be bothered to put the ornaments on it. I wish I could decorate as much for Angie as I do for Mary because I know Angie would appreciate it so much more. Well, maybe Mary will like it when she's herself again. Although then we're supposed to go visit Gina and by the time we get back it will pretty much be Xmas already. I'm worried about that visit, too. More so than I was before. Well, if Mary doesn't feel well, then we just can't visit Gina. Fred can take Mom and Dad, that's all there is to it. Gina can have a crisis, as they say in German, but I can't jeopordize Mary's health like that.

Misery

I think the last week, especially the last few days, have been the worst in my life. Am I just getting old, I wonder, because surely I've been through much worse with Mary. Maybe the novelty has worn off. Maybe it's just a fact that not being able to use a hand is much worse than not being able to use a leg. That might be true, because it's harder to get her onto the bed because she can't use her right hand to push her body back. So I have to hope she doesn't slide off and hop up quickly behind her and pull her up. That's not great for her arms where I'm grabbing her under the armpits and it's even worse for my back. This, combined with my having to then get up behind her and pull her up toward the head of the bed and having to pick her up to transfer her from chair to chair to bed, is definitely taking a toll on my back. What will we do tomorrow when Bonnie is here? Well, I do think Bonnie is stronger than I am, but I certainly can't ask her to do these things. Well, I can't stress about it. I'll just keep my mouth shut and let Bonnie deal with it. No, I know I won't. But I can't stress about it right now.

Yes, it's definitely harder to transfer someone who can't use their hand or the lower part of their arm because they can't hold onto you. Add to that the fact that Mary's legs are much weaker than they used to be and it makes sense that my back is hurting me! It's also a problem that Mary's right hand is the one that's hurt because she is right-handed. So now I'm having to wipe after she urinates, as well as after she has a bowel movement. I don't mind as long as she can get her legs apart :-) She so drugged out right now that she's not very capable of doing even that.

Yes, started Friday on the way home from the surgeon's to pick up the wheelchair, which I stupidly forgot, her hand started hurting like never before. I should have pulled over immediately and given her some medication (not that it seems to be helping). When I took her up to his office, she was still moaning and groaning furiously. Luckily, we didn't get those five inches of snow that was predicted and the ice was dried up by strong winds overnight. I recognized the office building somehow. I know I've taken Mary there before but I can't remember why for the life of me. Anyway, we had to wait a while because we'd lost our appointment. I'd been running late to begin with because you just can't rush a 94-year-old even if you do get her up several hours before you have to leave. She just kept falling asleep on me. I should have gotten more things together the night before...

The doctor finally came in and when he asked Mary how she was--a ridiculous questin considering that she'd been moaning loudly ever since I brought her into the office--she gave an even more ridiculous answer: fine. I swear, that woman could be dying of a heart attack and she'd still say she was fine if someone came in and asked her! Well, I didn't care much for this doctor (or his staff). They were all rather cold and unfeeling. I guess Dr R has spoiled me. Well, he said that the cyst was filled with joint fluid and having it operated on was usually elective surgery. Then he paused. I wondered what in the hell he was driving at. He finished, "But since she's in such pain..." I mentioned in the course of the discussion that the Hydrocodone didn't seem to be doing any good and we discussed that she didn't react well to Vicadon, which Gina had informed was the same as Hydrocodone! So he said to switch to Darvocet. I don't have much faith in Darvocet helping Mary, either, actually, but kept this (stupidly?) to myself. I wish he had given me a prescrition for something stronger. I mean, he saw how much pain she was in. Why didn't I ask him?!

Well, that pain continued all day until late in the night. I gave her Aleve every eight hours and Darvocet every four hours. Waves of pain would take hold and cause her to sweat profusely. I felt so helpless. You know, that constant moaning and groaning has been especially wearing. I don't know why I let it get to me. She always moans a lot anyway and always says it's just something she has to do and to tell her to stop if I don't like it--although she always takes offense, then, when I do tell her to stop. I tell her that she'll end up like the boy who cried wolf because one day she'll be moaning about something serious and I'll just ignore her.

Saturday things seemed to have gotten under control and I continued the Aleve and Darvocet therapy--with smaller waves of pain. But I didn't continue the medicine through the night and that was a big mistake. Sunday was worse and around 4:30 PM she started having much, much worse pain. I eventually called 911 but when they finally answered they said there were more pressing cases and the ambulance wouldn't be there for a while if they called one for us. I was rather annoyed, let me tell you, but I told them fine, I'd try to get her into the car. I was so scared that I'd drop her but we managed alright.

I took her to Audubon but was a nervous wreck from her moaning the whole time. I'd never been to that ER, and I didn't know where to park or where the entrance was. They have this stupid sort of track running along in front of the pavilion leading to the entrance and the wheelchair almost got overturned going over it. There was very little light and it was raining. I hit my leg on the wheelchair and it's still incredibly sore.

When they checked us in they gave us this sort of pager thing like they use in restaurants! How crappy! How cheap! How impersonal! The first time it buzzed we were supposed to go over and take care of paper work. That got taken care of fairly quickly. Then we proceeded to wait. It got colder and colder. Luckily, I'd had two blankets in the car and had also thrown Mary's robe over her. Those friggin assholes made Mary sit there in pain for two hours! She was practically passing out from shock. I couldn't restrain myself from giving him a small piece of my mind when the man who finally came to help her jovially commented on her age. He merely replied in his continued jovial manner that two hours was not bad for the ER. And all over there were signs about their five-star service and customer satisfaction! Piss on that!

They gave Mary a prescription for Tramadol, which I believe is a form of Codein (sp?). A young lady came back to give us this and made a comment about hoping we were happy with how this solution since we'd been unhappy about the wait. Argh! Luckily, the pharmacist was able to fill the prescription immediately. Mary was also able to get up the stairs. I really didn't want to bother August at 9PM on a rainy Sunday night.

She was in pain all night and through the first half of the day. She'd moan and grimace and jerk in her sleep. She seemed to want me there next to her but didn't want me to touch her. This is hard for me because when I stroke or touch her then I feel like I'm doing something to help her. I finally figured out that singing to her seemed to soothe her and help her sleep. I just kept repeating the Schubert Ave Maria (what I could remember) and Brahms' Wiegenlied/Lullaby. The latter made me so sleepy, I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I slept most of the night in my own bed but after getting up around 5AM, I finally decided to pull the cushion for the swing (outside) into her room and sleep there. As a result, I didn't reset my alarm clock like I had been and got confused about what I'd given her. I probably gave her a double dose of something. Maybe that's what helped because she finally just slept without any obvious pain.

Talk about confusing! I give her the Darvocet every four hours, the Aleve every eight hours and the Tramadol every six hours. Except I have to make sure that I give her the Tramadol no sooner than two hours after Aleve, which means I'm really giving it to her evey eight hours. I made out a little time-sheet but every once in a while something would get off. Argh! I'll try to stretch the Darvocet out to every six hours tonight and see about tomorrow. Maybe I should make the Darvocet every eight hours. Or maybe I should keep it every six hours and try to cut out the Tramadol. They said only to give it as needed but I don't know if she needs it until she starts feeling pain, but by the time she feels the pain, it's too late for the medication to help much for a long time. Help!

Mom made the comment that if Eddie were alive, he'd have gotten her an appoint with the surgeon earlier than Friday. I do certainly miss being able to ask for his advice. Or even for Chris' advice, but I don't feel comfortable asking Chris for medical advice anymore. I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable. Or me, either, for that matter! (to be honest)

She said she wanted to get up at around 4:30 but all she did was sleep and hallucinate the whole time. Luckily, she seems to be having good visions and laughs a lot. She wouldn't eat hardly anything all day. Just a few bites of banana and cooked carrot and a few small glasses of buttermilk and soy milk--to take the Darvocet. She threatened to throw up several times. Yesterday she started off the day by throwing up. She also drank about one and a half cups of coffee and half a can of coke--I thought it would settle her stomach.

I hope she's better tomorrow. I want to take Angie and Anna their Xmas presents--booties that can be warmed in the microwave. Mary really likes hers but they're so heavy that I'm concerned that Angie and Anna won't be able to carry them to and from the microwave. Maybe they can carry one shoe at a time. Mom said she'd go out to visit Angie with me. I also have several other errands to run. I hate that feeling of pressure. I mean, I've only got three hours and it goes so quickly. Last Thursday I made eight stops in my three hours. I was quite proud of myself. But I didn't have any fun, let me tell you. Maybe that's also why I'm so stressed-out. I haven't gotten any Xmas cookies made and that makes me very sad because that's something I really enjoy. It's hard to get into things, though, because Mary says she doesn't care one way or the other.

Oh, I took a picture of Mary and me that Fred took and made a Xmas card of it. I think people have really liked it. (But it does make me look fat!)

Mary's in there moaning and it almost time for her next pill, so I've got to go.

Visits

I forgot to add about the doctor's visit that Dr R gave me some samples of Zantac 75 to give Mary in addition to her Protonix. So far it has worked like a charm when she had that "Give me something to eat right now--I've got a pain in the stomach" syndrome. It helped her when she had the pain in the chest, too, but it took longer and I wondered if I shouldn't have just given her some Mylanta. Well, I'm supposed to give her two Zantac a day. Ugh! More pills!

Dr R also gave me a starter kit and a prescription for Namenda--another Alzheimer's drug. She'll have to take that twice a day, too, eventually. I just don't know about all of these drugs I'm pumping her full of . I think just all of those drugs would kill me!

Dr R told me that her father had a stroke and is a paraplegic (sp?) now. I feel so bad. I wish there was something I could do for her. I always want to give her Xmas cookies, but Mom always discourages me. She says so many people don't like to eat things other people have made and I know what she means. You never know how clean they keep their kitchen or if they lick their fingers. (You remember how Mary and Anna always hated the way Angie licked her fingers so much. Well, when she was here helping me make the chicken pot pie, sure enough when she wanted to taste it, she just stuck her finger in it to taste it, instead of using a spoon. Now, I don't know why she did that since it was hot, but it did gross me out, even though I'm sure her finger was clean. So now I know what Mary and Anna were always talking about!)

Oh, on the way home from the doctor, Mary and I stopped by to see Anna. The weather was warm, so I knew Anna could come out to the car. Boy, was she surprised! She seemed very happy to see Mary, but who knows... She looked a lot older than a year ago. The way she talked, I could tell that she has no idea about how fragile Mary has gotten and that she can't walk very well. She carried on about how no one offers to help her with her leaves--her front yard is covered. Now, why do the aunts always tell me what no one will do for them? I'm not free to help them. As it is, I have a problem helping Mom when she needs it.

Hand Update and Spoilt Rotten

Mary's hand started hurting her again on Monday, so I bundled her into the car (in her robe with a small blanket) to go see Dr Rivera. As soon as she got in the car, her hand quit hurting, but we went on anyway. They were so nice, considering I didn't have an appointment--but the line was busy every time I tried (it always is on Monday morning). The office was full but Dr R took Mary almost immediately.

Well, it was the cyst--I knew it. At first, Dr R said it would have to be operated on, then she said to continue the heat (15 minutes at a time, 3 times a day) for another week and see if it went down. If not, to call her and she'd give us the name of a hand surgeon. She gave Mary a prescription for some hydrocodone. She said that was a narcotic, but it seems to also be a type of ibuprofen. She said to use it only if the Aleve doesn't work. Just used it once or twice. Sure enough, the cyst went down the first or second day! Argh! I've been putting heat on it and it wouldn't go down before!

Anyway, her hand hasn't hurt her so intensely, so I'm happy.

Did I mention that Mary's really getting to be a sourpuss when Bonnie comes to relieve me? Boy, I hope she gets over that. Mom said to just ignore it.

I'm feeling really guilty about dragging Mary to St Louis. Should I? I mean, is that trip really so rough on her? I think it'll be ok with Mom along. And I hope (against hope) that Fred will come, too.

Gotta go get Mary up!