the day can finally begin

Mom is getting out of bed as I write this. She's been awake for a while, but as you know, there's a difference between waking up and actually getting up, even for those of us not afflicted with cancer. In Mom's case, there's also dizziness to contend with: Dad sits Mom up and holds her in place to give her a chance to reorient herself. The next step (after her helmet has been strapped on) is for Mom to stand up; again, Dad allows her some time to rest before he and she actually get moving.

I heard from Dad that Mrs. Merrill has cancelled her 3PM visit because she's been called into work. Dad will therefore take care of Mom's "morning" prep, eat lunch with her, and head out on two errands: (1) he has to drop off the "loaner" van that was given to us while our Honda Odyssey was in the shop, and pick up the Honda; then (2) he has to drive over to a pharmacy to pick up another bottle of Keppra, Mom's anti-seizure medication. Many of Dad's errands involve some sort of prescription pick-up; some pharmacies are quicker than others when it comes to getting the meds out in a timely manner, while others drag their feet, forcing Dad to wait an hour or more before they produce the meds.

So I've got sandwiches and budae-jjigae to prepare; Dad's helping Mom shower and dress, and we'll all sit down to a late lunch in the next 30 to 45 minutes.

Pastor Jeri, semper fidelis, is still coming at 4PM.


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