Something Good About The Cold

It's still cold out today by Florida standards but better than yesterday. As I ride around town it's odd to see all the sheets and towels covering the shrubs in an attempt to save them from the frost. The newspaper says it takes three days for the bushes to show signs of damage but our Mexican Petunia is showing an early demise. We just planted five new shrubs last week so I hope they make it.

There is one good thing about this cold weather. The place where mom lives had to turn on the heat. It is usually so freezing cold in the dining room that I try to shield her food from the downward blast of arctic air coming from the ceiling vents. I literally hold my hands over the vegetables in between bites. I've made many, many complaints to management that they keep the temperature too cold but there has been little improvement. So tonight, since they had the heat on, I actually took off my sweater and one of mom's layers as well. Ironically, her soup was too hot tonight so she had to blow on each spoonful. Unfortunately, she shook so much that by the time she got it cool enough to eat, it had all fallen off the spoon onto either the table or her lap. Each time she took a spoonful of soup I grabbed the cup and held it under the wavering spoon. This was one time when the arctic air would have been welcome.

Meal time can be, for lack of a better word, entertaining. Usually there is very little conversation. In fact, the resident mom sits with does not ever speak as she has lost that ability. She has a pleasant countenance, though, and isn't a bad choice for a dinner partner. I'm pretty sure they seat her with mom because there are times when mom moans, or calls out, "help me, please, oh please". It doesn't appear to bother "J". There are times when mom tries to carry on a conversation with her but, of course, gets no response. Mom waves her spoon and talks louder until I intervene and remind mom that "J" doesn't talk. "J" is a wanderer and has trouble sitting still. She is up from the table at least five times or more causing the caregiver to continually rein her back in. She usually manages to spill her water or cranberry juice, causing me to leap up to avoid the flood coming my way. At another table are four women with varying degrees of dementia. Tonight one of them kept giving her dinner to another resident and the caregivers had to continually tell her that she didn't need to share her dinner as everyone had food. The other one got angry and refused to eat. Fortunately for my sister and me, mom loves to eat and isn't picky. She gets right down to business and shovels in the soup (except for tonight because it was too hot). I am not there for every meal so I don't know if mom eats when she is not aided by my sister or me. Often she can't see the food on the plate and I continually redirect the utensil to help her get the food from the plate to her fork, or back from the placemat onto her plate. I figure if she has lived to 92, she isn't likely to die from a little bacteria on the placemat. It's a risk I'm willing to take. Dessert is the highlight of my mother's life. She truly lives for it. If they took all desserts away tomorrow, she would go screaming into the night and that would be it for her. Perhaps that is why she eats so well. She knows the reward is at the end of the meal. A few months ago before the "home" got a new chef, there were problems with the quantity of desserts. One pie for 14 people just didn't do it. The caregivers told me (begged me) to complain to management as they knew their remarks meant nothing. I called the vice president of the corporation and put in my suggestions. Shortly thereafter, there was a new cook and plenty of pie. The squeaky wheel gets the oil!

My husband and I are braving the cold (50 degrees) and going out for pizza. Our self-imposed diet has lasted two days and we are ready for our reward.