For the past month Asa and I have been working as a team taking care of Mom following her surgery. Asa has been focused on Mom’s emotional wellbeing, while I worked closely with Dad to keep everyone on a schedule, as well as act as Mom’s physical therapist. However despite our efforts, I can’t help but notice that Mom is an impatient patient.
Case in point, after being in the hospital for a week Mom completely ignored the song and dance number Asa worked so hard on to welcome her home. Instead all Mom cared about was getting up the stairs to collapse in her bed. Although I cannot excuse Mom for being so rude to Asa, I do admit by ignoring him it helped me to get us back on schedule. Would you believe the doctor had the audacity to discharge Mom at MY dinner time?! Everyone knows I eat at 5:00! So whereas Asa continued spinning and twirling determined to do his welcome dance in it’s entirety despite not having an audience, I also began spinning and barking to remind Dad to feed us. Similar to Asa, Dad was also distracted by Mom’s homecoming, and no doubt would have completely forgotten about our routine if it wasn’t for me to remind him. It was at that moment I knew for the first week I had to give Dad my undivided attention to keep him on schedule, while relinquishing Mom’s initial care to Asa.
I must say though, Asa rose to that challenge, despite obstacles being put in his way. After Mom was settled in her bedroom, Asa went up to check on her and accidentally put his big bowling ball sized head directly on Mom’s wound. My apologies for anyone in New England and Canada who heard the loud cry Mom let out. After that Asa performed his bedside duties from the opposite side of the bedroom door. However, he was determined to make Mom happy. For that entire week, Asa piled his favorite squeaky toys outside of the bedroom door, making sure to squeak each one as loud as he could so Mom would know she was surrounded by love. When he ran out of toys, Asa started bringing shoes, socks, pillows, dish towels, and other random household items including the TV remote. Anything and everything that Mom could possibly need for her recuperation.
For endless hours, day and night, Asa would stay by that door in hopeful anticipation Mom would soon fling it open and welcome him inside. Yet he couldn’t help but be concerned by the worried look on Dad’s face as he kept coming and going checking on Mom. So occasionally he would leave his post to follow Dad to make sure he was holding up ok through this ordeal. Despite his efforts to make this a positive environment, Asa had the opposite affect on Mom. During a particularly difficult day Mom awoke from a fitful nap to hear Asa enthusiastically sniffing on the other side of the bedroom door. We all know Asa loves rolling on dead smelly things, so Mom thought for sure that her days were numbered. Thankfully though this diagnosis was incorrect, and slowly but surely Mom began to feel better.
Meanwhile I made sure Dad maintained our routine. I’m not going to lie, it was extremely difficult working with him. Walks were at random times and for much shorter distances, under the excuse of he needed to stay close to Mom. Dad even went as far as to take care of Mom first in the morning, ignoring my barking as my breakfast got woefully delayed. Would you believe on one occasion I didn’t get breakfast until 7:00 AM? It’s amazing I didn’t starve. However, with a lot of determination I eventually got Dad on a schedule that we could both agree on, even if it wasn’t ideal.
As the month progressed and Mom improved, Asa and I were eventually allowed back into the bedroom. I immediately noticed that Mom was a lot weaker compared to prior to her surgery. As her physical therapist I knew I had to get her arms moving again. What better way to achieve this goal, than by insisting that she pet me! I began slowly by pawing at her arm to pet me. At fist Mom ignored me, and even seemed upset with my constant pawing and flipping of her arm with my nose. However, she eventually gave in and would rest her hand on my head. Although a good start, this still wasn’t acceptable because she wasn’t actually petting me. To encourage more movement, I began to move my head while stomping my paws to get her to take a more active approach to petting. Unfortunately though, this only got me banned from the bedroom again, leaving Asa as her only bedside nurse for awhile.
Asa remained glued to Mom’s side during this time. Having learned from his early bowling ball mistake and witnessing my ejection from the room, Asa took a paws-off approach to caring for Mom. Instead he quietly sat by her side day and night. He would happily watch TV with her, be captivated by audiobooks, and when Mom drifted off to sleep at the oddest of hours, Asa would look out the window daydreaming of better days ahead. He was so completely dedicated to Mom’s care, that on more than one occasion despite being invited to join us, Asa preferred to watch from the window while Dad and I played fetch in the yard.
After what seemed like an eternity, Mom eventually began spending more time downstairs. It was finally my opportunity to take over as Mom’s physical therapist. This time Mom was more receptive to my exercises of petting me. However, I was not going to let her stop there. It was about time she played fetch. I began with my pre-surgery approach of subtly hinting by walking back and forth to the door while stopping to gaze out the window, with the occasional loud sigh. When that didn’t work, I reminded her how fun fetch was by squeaking my loudest ball, while simultaneously running back and forth from Mom to the door. This resulted in Dad’s intervention, and me being on the wrong side of the living room gate. Why must he coddle her? She’s never going to get better with that attitude!
Luckily for her, I was not to be deterred, and on one triumphant day Mom followed me to the door and let me out! However, she claimed she still couldn’t play fetch. Excuses! Excuses! Currently I am determined to continue working with her to get her back to our old routine. Although I do admit some aspects of our routine I don’t mind delaying a bit longer. As long as Mom insists on only wearing her PJs, I refuse to take her on neighborhood patrol! I know she needs exercise, but I do have a reputation to maintain with the neighbors.
Asa and I are happy to report that despite the slow progress, Mom is getting back to her old routine. We’d like to take this time to thank all of you for your patience, prayers, positive thoughts, cards and gifts during this ordeal. Sitting upright for long periods of time continues to be problematic for Mom and she tires easily, so please forgive us if we don’t respond back quickly, or if the timing of our posts seem to be a bit random. I may have Dad on a schedule, but Mom is proving to be a bit more resistant to my suggestions. However, rest assured that as Mom’s physical therapist I’m going to continue my efforts to get Mom back to work, while Asa works tirelessly to make Mom smile.
