Taken in February, this photo shows mom knitting a chemo hat. She has knitted a LOT of hats for people who visit the Katmai oncology clinic. However, she is ‘out of yarn’ (she has lots left, but not enough to do whatever she is trying to do. She has more in the basement of her house and we’ll get that when we go back there this weekend) and is working on other things. Unfortunately, the other things use finer yarn and much smaller needles. She can’t do it. She can’t see very well, she has trouble holding the needles, and she can’t make sense of the instructions. It makes my heart break to watch her. She comes up with excuses as to why she is having trouble. She got mad when I told her she should relax and let it go, I said her body was sick and those projects were harder for her now. She doesn’t see she is not able to do this. She used to, so she should now.
Yet, if her nurses or doctors ask how her mental health is, she is fine. Of course, she says this for her physical state, too. It doesn’t help mom took a pain killer today (she is trying not to take those, they make her waste time and she sleeps) and it is also impairing her abilities. She has trouble seeing to read, she has trouble writing, to do crosswords (she still reads and does puzzles, it is just harder), she can’t grasp things well (which is why I help her out so much with medical needs), and she gets mad when the things she CAN do are normal things. Because, she can use the bathroom by herself. She can eat by herself. She does make choices as to when to take certain pills and she can turn off her oxygen machine. She dresses and undresses alone. She pushes herself to be well and manages to prove that for an hour or two at a time.
But, my heart aches watching her.