by Andi | Nov 18, 2010 | Andi's Book
Mom isn’t talking much. At least not with words. But her face, her face tells me so much. Her whole face crinkles when she’s in pain, and when she really hurts – like when we have to move her – her cheeks flush with the exertion of bearing up.... by Andi | Nov 17, 2010 | Andi's Book
Today, Mom is resting on a hospital bed. She is under the spell of Haldol and Morphine. She is, finally, placid. Last night, my brother, Dad, friend, and I spent the night getting her up – which now involves lifting her to her feet and sliding her over to a... by Andi | Nov 17, 2010 | Andi's Book
Today, Mom is resting on a hospital bed. She is under the spell of Haldol and Morphine. She is, finally, placid. Last night, my brother, Dad, friend, and I spent the night getting her up – which now involves lifting her to her feet and sliding her over to a... by Andi | Nov 16, 2010 | Andi's Book
In the rooms where we spend our time, we have monitors set up to hear Mom if she needs us. Most of the time, the only sound coming through the monitor is the sound of her breathing – whish, whish, whish. I sleep with one of these monitors at my feet, and as I... by Andi | Nov 15, 2010 | Andi's Book
They’re just lavender glasses. A little bit of horn-rim to the frame. A little kicky. A lot Mom. I found them when I was cleaning up her room yesterday, putting clothes away as best I could. I folded all the beautiful PJs people have given her. I stacked up her...