Slippy slippy days

The road to hell is paved with good intentions. Or the road to adequate blogging in this case.

I have been sitting here trying to remember why I didn't post on Saturday.

We got up early enough Saturday and drank coffee for a bit. Then Roland was off to all-day auditions. Mom and I headed out shortly thereafter. We went to the gym. It was a bit of a challenge getting Mom and all the gear inside but things were fairly smooth sailing from there. The PT at Stallworth said that Mom could safely try riding an exercise bike without breaking the 'no weight-bearing' rule as long as we were careful. So we got Mom settled in on the bike and I went to change. Mom rode a solid 40 minutes- granted the bike was off instead of on level 12- but it was 40 minutes nonetheless! (Treadmill warm-up, abs, legs, and 20 minutes bike for me.)

Then home for Home Ec 101. Mom started on banana nut bread while I ran to the store. (Don't worry. We have loads of rules for our small separations.) I got back and Mom was completely tapped out and taking a rest on the sofa. We finished up the bread and moved on to oatmeal raisin cookies. Woo hoo! Exhausting but yummy.

Mom commented repeatedly on how striking it was. The draining difficulty of just lifting the oil, finding the vanilla, dragging the sugar from the cupboard. The profound exhaustion of just assembling batter.

Aching to watch for anyone. Truly heartwrenching when said person is such a dynamo as Mom.

Then rest for Mom and chores for me. That pretty much took care of Saturday. Sunday was fairly equivalent except that I got out a few hours for a pleasant evening with new friends. Joy. Getting out is critical to maintaining balance and perspective yet also so hard at the end of a long draining day.

shew.

As Mom would say.

Today, anticipating a long long day, we headed out a little late. First stop, have Mom's blood drawn. Lunch to follow then on to the neuroophthalmologist. Mom wound tight but coils on the low-down. She, of course, knew there was something wrong with her eyes, but didn't want anything sinister to be found. As she cannot recall the accident, she has a subconsious fear of it recurring without warning. So she is always waiting, for the other shoe to drop.

The appointment started promisingly enough with little wait in the first waiting area before heading back with our forms. Little waiting in the second waiting area and then in for history taking and examination by the primary technician who started with the pirate type tests...