Shifting Fluids

Last Thursday through Saturday, Mom had a really loose rattly cough, and with her weakened state, she just couldn't cough anywhere close to "productively" so it was a rough few days.  We tried lemon/honey throat drops (yuck!), lemon ginger tea (yum), light pounding on her back (feels good), Mucinex (another pill?!), and finally good old fashioned Luden's original menthol.  Whether it was the  $0.96 Luden's purchase, or time, something worked and the cough has ceased. Whew. :)

Equally stressful as the cough, all last week Mom's words were, conservatively, 90% not intelligible.  Yes and no questions work, but many times as she was trying to communicate an independent thought, it came as out as numbers.  65, 12, 21, 18 18 18 18. I wish I had a decoder ring to figure out what all those meant.  I'm sure it would be fascinating. Maybe 18 means "I'm so frustrated I can't get this word out!"

Yesterday mom had a friend from school stop by, she brought a wonderful poem from her son, and together they reminisced about when he was in mom's class, the things she must have told him, the things he obviously remembers...aren't we all like that with a favorite teacher?  It's a rare gift to have a teacher who reaches students so that 10, 15? years later, they still think about the teacher and remember specific scenes from class, basketball games, hallway conversations. The visit was warm and wonderful.

Today, Mom seems to be taking her energy from yesterday's visit an channeling it in to clear speech.  The brain is a wondrous thing...  This can only be explained by the tumor growth, compounded by swelling and fluid buildup. The tumor stays where it is, but the fluid is just that, it moves. So last week when the fluid was (appeared to have been) sitting on the part of her brain that controls speech...today it's not. So we've had these delights.

• "I thought said you did something with your hair."  (Mom looking puzzled, and she is the one who ever tells the truth about how bad my hair frequently looks. This is my mom's real speech!)
• "Great job! You did very well. This is good." (After looking --reading??-- Mary Claire's report card.)
• "He is so funny. He knows what he is talking about! And that man is just plain crazy." (While watching a funny segment on an afternoon talk show.)

And maybe most wonderful, last night during the Packers/Vikings game there was an ad for National Car Rental. After the ad ran, she said quite clearly, "I wish I could go."  And then this is what happened:

Where would you go?

I would go to (gibberish) wine (gibberish)   

Where would you stay?

(gibberish) Bellag, B...(gibberish) 

Dad walks in   Are you saying "Villagio?"  

YES!

What would you drink? 

3, (gibberish), 103

103 glasses of wine?

YES!  

We followed that with the names of Mom and Dad's favorite wineries.  They both enjoyed that conversation, it was a sweet trip down memory lane. We talked about where they would eat, how much they loved the barn doors, how some wineries are too touristy but worth a novice visit, how much they loved the tastings and canapes at Schramsberg. 

The tumor is still there, but the fluid and swelling has apparently shifted, and has given us some relief from the darkness.  It has gifted us a glimpse back to what has been a wonderful part of life.