"Don't come," she says. Don't come??? You're taking pain meds and have been in pain for nearly 24 hours straight and you say, "Don't come??????"
"Are you crazy?" I wanted to say. Of course, I didn't.
She IS my mother, after all.
The Uber Planner isn't ready for me to come and stay yet. I reminded her that I wanted to get there before she's so out of it that she can't recognize me. She's pretty sure she'll be able to give me three days' notice before that point arrives (three days being the time it will take for me to drive there).
She said she's not ready for me to take her piano yet because she needs to practice Christmas music. I have no argument for that. Christmas music? I reassured her that I wasn't going to take her piano until it was all over anyway ("I'll be prying it out of your cold, dead fingers, Mom," I joked -- she laughed).
She sees her doctor on Monday and we will talk it over again after that.
Today is a good day for her -- she is pain-free and feels good. But yesterday was one of the worst days she's had yet. And the oral morphine made her sick on top of everything else, so they will have to find a different pain killer that she can take by mouth for now.
A few days ago she said (as I wrote in my blog entry), "With this disease, some days you die and some days you dance." She reiterated that today during our conversation.
It put me in mind of the old English carol, "Tomorrow shall be my dancing day" -- a piece we sang in our high school choir, and which is, arguably, the forerunner of the popular 1970s Jesus Movement song "Lord of the Dance."
Because after Mom dies, she WILL dance again.
As always, stay tuned.....