I was supposed to be at her house yesterday morning to help her take a pill. I was two minutes late, and she had just taken it on her own. She was up fixing her own coffee. This is what we're up against. It's like trying to tame a tiger. Or at least de-claw one.
I asked her about the night, and she told me how miserable she'd been. At least Suzanne was here to help, right? No, she didn't want to call Suzanne because she thought she needed the rest. "Then why was she even staying here?" I asked her. That didn't make any sense.
Then later, when Suzanne got back from work and heard this story, she scolded Mom mercilessly. As far as she knew, Mom had had a restful night, because she was in the same position every time Suzanne checked. I think between the two of us we got it through Mom's head that the reason we were spending so much time with her was to make sure the operation turned out successfully, It wasn't because we wanted to have a sleepover.
The doctor prescribed Darvocet for the pain, and to relax her. She didn't want to take it during the day, though. In fact, she didn't really want to take it at all, but she took one before bed last night. That's why I spent the night on her couch, just in case of a reaction, or in case some other problem came up.
The doctor also suggested a new sleeping arrangement, one that would let her breathe. She discarded the special pillow and used one of her own, doubled up. She slept on her stomach, with her good eye pressed into the pillow and her head down. She said it was much easier to sleep that way than with the gas-mask variation she'd tried the night before.
If this keeps working, we won't have to rent a massage table. That was the other suggestion.
When I checked on her at 4:00 this morning, she was awake. She asked for another Darvocet, and that got her through the rest of the night. I left at 7:30 this morning, but both Suzanne and I will be in and out throughout the day. Mom is at the point where she doesn't want to be helped as much. I don't blame her.