You Could Save a Life

When my father was ill a few years ago I learned a lot about our health care system (in our case the care was excellent), I became adept at advocating and questioning on behalf of my elderly father who wouldn't ask any questions, period.

I have never really thought about performing any care functions. I know we all should be able to perform basic CPR and yet I've never sought out training, and, ridiculously, given it's been so very long since I've been tested on anything I think I have exam anxiety--not something one should bow to when we're talking simple training that could save a life.

A few nights ago mom and I have finished dinner, we're in the living room having coffee, she coughs a couple of times. She seems to be trying to clear her throat, I ask if she's alright. She opens her mouth and tries to inhale but nothing is happening, there's no sound and no movement of air. I go to her asking if she can breathe, I didn't notice that she'd been eating anything (turns out she was eating an Xmas cookie, more on that newly acquired obsession later) but clearly she's choking, she can't answer, is making no sound and is starting to panic. I get her standing, I'm wary of what I do given she's heading to 84 (she prefers it stated as 83.5) so I pat her back several times assuming this isn't going to do anything, it doesn't, so I Heimlich her. Thing is I haven't been trained on this, I am simply channeling what I've heard, seen, and while I'm sure my technique is not quite right (or perhaps entirely wrong) it does the trick. Granted it was a cookie which would have dissolved but would it have dissolved before she'd lost consciousness or fell in her panicked state trying to get somewhere to do something?

It was a frightening moment for both of us. It took her a few moments to recover, to calm down and get her breathing back to normal; for me it was another nod that yes being here is right and it's time to get some training. I'm booked for a CPR training course just before Christmas, for only $144 you could save a life.

Altered States

As you can see I've already taken a break from the blog.

Blogging doesn't come naturally, and the days seems pretty full, though I can't pinpoint what exactly it is I do every day. Two posts were started then filed away and remain unposted, they seemed too negative. It is a big adjustment, and I am middle aged, to change my life to such a degree is going to chafe I guess. Still, foisting random rants on anyone reading (if in fact anyone IS reading this) seemed unfair.

I will get back on track but for now, as we prepare Sunday dinner, I have a humorous (though in the moment it was a head scratcher) anecdote:

My mother is doing dinner tonight (we've been letting her do dinner a couple of times a week when she's able, tonight is her quite excellent fried chicken), I'm also in the kitchen (I'm doing sugar snap peas or there will be just chicken and potatoes, nothing green) and she drops an open package of spice into the sink water (at least it was relatively fresh and unused dishwater), curses and then picks it up to toss back into the cupboard. I say 'let me at least dry it off mom, it's wet', she says 'no, no, there's a cloth right here in the draining board I dried it off'.

You do realize I'm standing right beside you and can see that you threw it back into the cupboard a moment ago, wet, perhaps leaking into the spices.....I was literally one inch to the right.

In time I'll find the key to managing all of this---the funny and memorable moments lift (like the wet spices or our hot chocolate dates at Starbucks), the not-so-good-drives-me-around-the-bend moments can grate like no other (like the shrieking from another floor asking me to 'come here I want to show you something', frequently, oftentimes it's Publisher's Clearing House giving us $1million) --- that key could be 'deep breath aaaaand exhale' or it could in fact be medication, for me I mean  :)

Now to those sugar snap peas, my red wine will join me in the kitchen.

The Calabrese

My 83 year old mother grew up in small town Ontario and apart from a honeymoon in Florida she's not really traveled much. She's one of those salt of the earth people: happy, solid, always supportive but her window on the world's been small-ish. You can see why, on day two, I was surprised to hear the announcement that she'd picked up two bottles of red and a calabrese (she was quite proud of this). Calabrese. My mother bought Wonder bread for years.

It's these moments I love. Seeing her happily embrace something different whether it's minor, like the calabrese, or major like Christmas in New York City three months after my father's death. New York City may not be major to some of us but my mother had never imagined herself in The Big Apple, she loved it. We did it by wheelchair but she loved it.

It's been a busy week and a half. The first couple of days were surreal...though I'd expected this would be my chosen path it's jarring in moments to realize, again, that my house is gone, and here I am not just visiting my hometown, I'm staying, every day spent sorting through more belongings trying to inject a bit of us into my mother's condo so it becomes our home too--we came with larger wine glasses, a small example.

The surreal lasted for just two days. I began to adjust to life with mom: slower days, much slower and quieter pace over the big city, days spent sorting through our respective bits and bobs and duplicates, the occasional errand to get mom out of the house. Cleaning. Everything.

It's been gratifying to already see change--who doesn't need daily company? And when we aren't around there's a dog to talk to (I encourage talking to dogs). It's been rather fun involving mom in reorganizing her home, looking at old photos, encouraging her to 'use the good stuff' (why not use a real plate everyday and let the Corelle Livingware from 1973 serve someone else for the rest of its life...I suspect these dishes could actually serve several more lifetimes in all their harvest gold trimmed glory)...it's good to know that the process of adding to each day is under way.

I spoke with mom the morning we were moving, she told me she fell the day before at the gas station. She was unable to get herself up so remained on the pavement until a young woman drove by, stopped and helped her up. I've never been one to look for signs but my reaction was a small nod of the head, perhaps I needed to see a sign on the day that door closed behind me for the last time,
yes it's time.

For sure there will be 'moments' but there will also be other MOMENTS that'll stay with me.
At some point I'll have to find balance but for now, my dog sleeping beside me, my mother contentedly watching TV awaiting dessert and coffee together, all seems pretty right with the world.

And so it begins...

"The ability to be happy is nothing other than the ability to come to terms with how things change.”

Always inspired by my best friend this was from an early blog post of hers, actually it is from a site she's turned me on to, 'Raptitude'; blogger David's post is entitled “88 Important Truths I’ve Learned About Life” (this particular ability comes in at #87).

It's two days before I move from my much loved house leaving my much loved city behind.

I've been mulling putting together a blog as I test my 'ability to come to terms with how things change'; the test of my writing skills along with the uneasy feeling that maybe this would come across  a tad too precious, whining, too much like online therapy managed to keep my blathering at bay but here I am. Bear with me as I find my voice.

I am in my 40s, I live in the biggest city in Canada (for two more days anyway), I work in publishing (an industry suffering a seismic shift of its own), I am an only child with one elderly parent.

Earlier this year all signs pointed to monumental change:

My mother needs more support and company; my partner has been endlessly supportive about the form of this support including a move; given the tumult of publishing, not surprisingly, my publisher went bankrupt so I've been freed from the bonds of employment (freed in every sense including my severance but why quibble...); even the real estate market's been helpful, it's still hot so some money could be made from our small city house. After months of toing and froing the lockbox is on the house, we're packed, some parts of life into storage, adventure awaits...one hopes.

In two days I will start the process of moving back to my hometown (no doubt given the confessional tendencies of blogs I will rail about the hometown another day). It will be wonderful to have more time with my mother, to ensure she is happy and safe her days becoming comparatively chock-full with the two of us and our dog in tow; it will be 'interesting' rebuilding a career and finding my way in my hometown.

In the spirit of #87 on the Raptitude list I will really try to roll with it.