It's The Little Things

As I have been sitting by mom's hospital bed these last two weeks, I've been frustrated that while she is still living and breathing and here with me, the morphine has either had her knocked out or unable to work her mouth well enough to speak. My mother is a talker. And a listener. And she's funny. And she's smart.

And I miss that.

Or rather, I missed it. Today, out of the blue, she woke up from a good night's sleep and started talking. Really talking. Full sentences. The works. Of course, I wasn't here... it was my sister's night to be with her and I was at work. But they called me and Linda put Mom on the speaker phone.

I cannot describe the joy I felt in hearing her voice again. Really hearing it. I was truly afraid that I wouldn't get to have another real conversation with her. And although her facial expressions are very communicative, it's not the same.

She's asleep now. She had a really big day and has managed to stay off the PRN morphine all day. A very low dose of extended release morphine has kept her pain under control and her mind sharp. We are hoping it is a positive sign of what is to come.

But tomorrow, once she is rested again, I sincerely hope she talks my ear off. I cannot wait.