One Foot In Front Of The Other

When I was in seventh grade, my appendix ruptured. I had emergency surgery and was in the base hospital for a month!

Every day of my long "incarceration", I would lie in my bed in the large women's ward (about 20 beds) and listen for the distinct sound of high heels clacking on the hard formica floor, coming from the direction of the elevators toward the ward. I knew, even on the first day, that it was Mommy coming to see me!

Today it is becoming clear that we are starting to have mobility issues. A couple of weeks ago, John mentioned that it looked like she was having difficulty walking, like she was trying to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other. This morning she couldn't get up and to the bathroom in time. She said she was having trouble with her legs. She came outside to the poolside, and once she sat down, had more trouble than usual rising again, then stood there... waiting for her legs to get the signal she was trying to get her brain to send.

She has even had some difficulty with swallowing recently, holding her medicine or whatever in her mouth waiting to figure out what to do with it.

She is increasingly "befuddled" ~ her word for it~ , but unaware that she has been so for longer than she knows.

The last time we tried the tub, she couldn't get up, and I had to physically lift her out. She didn't seem to get the concept of putting her feet under her and pushing up. She just left her feet in the corner of the tub and expected to magically arise. We won't be trying that again.

We worry how will we be able to care for her when it becomes worse, or will it be time to look into skilled care? I hoped that her memory would be gone before we had to resort to that, before we turned her care over to "strangers"... so that she wouldn't feel abandoned or betrayed. I hope it won't come to that...

The clack of the high heels is silenced... replaced by shuffling and unsure, faltering steps, but it is still my Mommy.