tuesday turtle

A bit longer hospital stay for mom. The docs have a couple of milestones they're looking for: 1) normal temperature for 24 hours (mom's has been fluctuating between normal and slightly elevated) and 2) break the nausea cycle and get her intake up.

All other indications look good. Big E and I stayed overnight again. Mom was moved to a true isolation room which meant that we all have to wear the Michael Jackson mask. We relieved Brother B and sister-in-law N late last night. Sis C relieved us around noon today. We all feel better keeping mom covered. It also helps to have other ears when docs pay a rare visit.

At this point, absent any unusual findings, mom is going to have to steel herself to overcome her gag reflex. She now has a good idea of what an anorexic teenager feels like. We found out today that we can order different foods so I'm hoping that her go-to food, poi, will do the trick. Maybe between mom, the nutritionist and Sis C, they'll be able to come up with something that will make the medicine go down. I don't think a spoonful of sugar will do it.

As loopy as a system full of chemicals and no food would make anyone, mom's essential mom-ness still shines through. When internist Dr. G showed up late morning and tried to peer at mom's close-eyed face under the floppy chemo hat she's been wearing--mom reached up with one hand, pulled up the hat, opened her eyes wide, as if to say, "Yeah, I hear you" then promptly pulled the hat back down over her face.

Big E later said mom looked like a dutiful yet peevish turtle, popping her head out to acknowledge Dr. G's presence, then retreating back into her shell when the obligation was fulfilled.