An inside look at Evelyn’s situation now: It’s a roller coaster
My supplemental aides visiting Evelyn are gifts from God (and from her brother, whose support makes it possible for me to pay them). One or the other of these wonderful women showers tender care on Evelyn every afternoon from about 4:00 till about 8:00.
They each text me a note most evenings to tell me how their time went with her. Jessica dictates her texts as she drives home, and talking instead of writing gives her the freedom to include many details. Below, find a few of her comments from the last week, interspersed with a couple of my own. They will give readers an inside look at Evelyn’s condition now.
From Jessica: She was so bright-eyed and cute at dinner and sitting up well. She was smiling at those at her table, and they were very happy to see her.
From Jessica another evening: It was a really great night! She just got in bed at almost 8:00. Stayed awake all afternoon and evening. We walked all over, inside and out. Watched about five minutes of Annie (with other residents in the activity room). Did range of motion exercises. She looked at her paper a little while I ate my dinner. We also looked at an old pictorial directory from Christ’s Church. If I would start to turn the page too soon, she would stop me by saying, “Hey!” She ate every bite of her dinner and drank well too.
My report to her, after a visit earlier in the day: Evelyn ate about half of her lunch today when I was there. She was very sleepy and slumpy. I got a couple glasses of juice or water down her.
From Jessica, later: Great job on the drinks! When I got there an hour ago, she was lying awake with her head lifted away from the bed and humming.
My report a day or two later: I was there at lunchtime today. Evelyn had been up only a few minutes. She was awake and alert, but by the time lunch came and I started feeding her, she was sleepy again. After we got a dozen or more bites in, she was falling asleep. Before lunch arrived and while she ate, I was able to get at least one whole glass of juice in her. She was sitting up pretty straight, so I don’t know if they’ll put her down this afternoon or not.
Several days ago from Jessica: She has winced and even pulled back when I washed her swollen finger. She lets me know. But she does hold my hand when we do range of motion exercises, and last night I said, “Are you sure that’s not hurting your hand to hold on to me like that?” and she said no. I love when she talks to me. Her humming has also been a highlight to many in several of the last few evenings.
My comment: I’m going to start coming in the evening when you have her up and active.
Jessica’s response: It doesn’t always work, but I’m thinking about 75 percent of the time. Some nights she just has dinner and then she’s right back out.
Last Saturday night from Jessica, before her usual departure time: I’m heading out. You’ll need to deduct an hour and a half from my pay. She had only four bites of food and a couple of ounces to drink all this time. She would pull her legs up if I tried to move her around, so range of motion exercises didn’t seem like an option. I don’t want to force anything I feel like might break her.
We did get her to the table for a few bites, but then she was right back out, and then took one more when I started moving her around. I put her in bed so she wouldn’t be folded over and asked her about getting a bite, and she said no.
Normally I would hang in there and maybe try again in an hour, but I’m going to a 21-year-old’s funeral tonight, and I don’t have the emotional resilience or mental capacity for Evelyn’s decline tonight. I just need to leave and go cry for an hour.
But then this report from her two days later: It's been a great night. She was sound asleep when I got here, and it took quite a while for her to become alert, but we got her out to the table around 5:15, and she stayed with me the rest of the night. Drank two or three glasses of water. Just got in bed about 7:45, and we did some more range of motion exercises and Bible reading. I asked her if she would want to pray through my prayer requests from my jail ministry this morning, and she said yes. There were so many times she gave me an mmmhmm after my prayer.
Earlier, after an evening difficult because Evelyn was so unresponsive: I can’t imagine how hard all this is for you, because I know how hard it is for me. I’m not a kissy/huggy kind of person, but the last many nights I keep kissing her on the head telling her I love her.
And I responded: The hospice nurse told me at this stage to expect the roller coaster. And sometimes roller coasters make me sick.
But like it or not, “roller coaster” is the best description for this segment of our journey. And as I much as I don’t relish the ride, I’m not yet ready for it to end.