Wheelchair or crawl

Lots of things going on this past week. 

A week ago we had an Easter party a couple of days early. Peter Rabbit showed up with easter candy for the kids, and us older kids got cake and punch. We also got to enjoy watching a couple of the kids play with two large plastic balls. The boys were about two years old, and the size of the balls was right at the limits of what they could pick up, but they never stopped running and throwing those balls!

I keep wishing there was a way to share all that energy with some of the rest of us!

Over the weekend we had a church group come and play hymns for the residents, followed by a Bible study. The residents all love to sing, and they do a pretty good job. Most of them are on key, and I hear some singing harmony, too. 

On Monday afternoon a couple of men with full beards came and played a guitar and bass and led the residents in hymns again, and nobody seemed to get tired of singing. The two guys were from the Silo Baptist Church, and commented on the singing, wishing they could have us all come to their church and sing. 

On Tuesday afternoon Featherstone had the groundbreaking ceremony for the new addition on the back, which will be a dedicated memory care unit for sixteen people. It looks impressive, and it can’t come soon enough. 

I am having doubts that Carolyn will be around to see it. She has taken a turn for the worse in the last two weeks. She was getting stronger, and was able to walk with some support, as her broken pelvis seems completely healed. 

But a week ago she started having trouble standing. When I lifted her by her hands, instead of moving upright to a balanced position, she leaned backward and could not stand erect, even with support. In order to transfer her to a wheelchair or couch, I had to put one arm under her arm and hold her up. Looked very much like we were dancing, and when I used dance cues to get her to move left or right to line up with the chair, she could follow just fine. She just couldn’t walk.

Then I noticed that both knees had abrasions like rug burns, and I wondered if she had fallen again. Both knees were red and hot to the touch, so I applied T-tree salve to the sore places. I didn’t have a big enough bandage to cover the knees, so I put her in bed at night with her pants on, hoping for some friction protection.

In the morning, after the nurses would come and bathe her, I would find her in bed with bare legs - no pants. 

I mentioned her knees to my favorite nurse from Guardian Hospice, and we tried to figure out how her knees got skinned like that. She brought me some big square band_aids that were perfect for covering the wound, and she brought some Beta-dine so we could apply disinfectant without a greasy covering under the band-aids.

I happened to mention her knee problems to one of the aides, and she said she had found her four times crawling around on the floor on her hands and knees, and helped her back to bed. Then a second aide also said she found her down on the floor crawling around the same way.

So the lowered bed and the tumbling mats on the floor are doing a good job of preventing major injury or broken bones, but she is still a lady on the move. After I told the nurse from Guardian Hospice, she said she will tell the nurses that give her the morning baths to put her pants on when they put her in bed. 

Since we started putting the band-aids on, the redness is disappearing, and her knees no longer feel hot to the touch.

But this week she can no longer stand at all. One arm under hers won’t work anymore - it takes two arms to pick her up and lift her from chair to sofa to toilet now. I have become quite proficient at holding her close with one arm and pulling up her underwear and trousers with the other arm. 

Sometimes her pants hang up in back, and I kid her by telling her, “Your butt’s too big. It’s in the way!”

She gives me a dirty look. So I quickly tell her, “It’s OK, though. I love your big butt!” 

She always laughs then. 

Once her pants are pulled up, it is easy to hold her up by the waistband and carry her over to the wheelchair. I got pretty good at buttoning the pants with one hand while holding her up with the other hand, until I wised up and decided to put her in the wheelchair first and then fasten the button and zip up the pants.

Her sense of humor is undiminished. Today I fell for one of her pranks again.

I had taken her to the toilet to change her underwear and put her on the pot before I put her in bed. I had the underwear pulled up to her knees, waiting for her to stop peeing. When she stopped, I pushed the button on the bidet for a warm water wash, and listened for the splashing in the toilet. 

After a few seconds, I pushed the off button, and the water noise stopped.

As soon as I stood up to lift her into the wheelchair, the water started again. I muttered something to myself and pushed the off button again. Again the water stopped and I stood up again. Again I heard the noise of water in the commode. As I reached for the remote one more time, I noticed that Carolyn had a grin on her face.

I dawned on me what she was doing. I looked her in the eyes and said, ”You are playing games with me, aren’t you?” She giggled, and then busted out in a big laugh. 

How could I not love a woman like her?