Monday

8:00AM - 9:30AM Paigee is up and interacting. Not really initiating conversation, but talking when you talk to her. Yesterday was so sweet, evertime she awakes I go in and say hi to her. Usually her hi back is hard to understand, but for some reason, her responses are easy to understand, "hi dad."

10:00AM Paigee is wet; she didn't wake for this. She was awake the little bit of time it took to change her.

6:27PM - 8:00PM Men just aren't made for this. Rosie was outside watering to get a break from the Room she and Paigee are living in. Screetch, something uninteligible.

Paigee has to go to the bathroom. I get her out of bed, but she can't stand up anymore. I carry her to the bathroom, she manages to stay atop the toilet but is slowly leaning to the side. She won't let me help her. Rosie swoops in and saves the day, Paigee let's her Mother hold her under the arms to keep her propped up. OMG, I'm shaking like a tree in the wind !

The stuff that Paigee is made of
Now that I'm calm I can write this down. This is an example of what a fighter Paigee is, never giving up, and definitely never asking for help. She couldn't lift her head off the pillow or move her legs. I'm hardly listening to her because I'm white as a Ghost because this is the first time I"ve touched her body in God only knows how many days it's been now. She is even thinner than during Radiation in August 03 when she lost 20% of her body weight. I had no idea, but when I lift her up by the hands and her head flops back. Next I put my left arm under her arm and holding her back, keeping her head up. A leg is under the blanket and it's stuck, she screetches, it took a few seconds to find the cause. I lift the blanket but she still cannot move her legs, so I pull her legs off the edge of the bed and she's squeeling, "Let me do it, let me do it." I let go of her legs as she slides her feet to the floor. Now she's saying, "You're not really helping me, not really." Next she collapses on her legs and her torso falls flat back on the floor, I raced to catch her but couldn't. No screaming, we both are ok I guess. I lift her off the floor so she is standing with my help. She tries to walk, "You're not really helping me she says." She's unable to walk, Lord she can barely keep her legs rigid. Finally we agree I should carry her to the bathroom, "this is only helping a little she says." At that point it was all either Rosie could do to keep her upright and from not falling into the toilet; she is rail thin now. She would never ask for help, so independant and strong willed.

In case it isn't obvious I'm still in denial. These days since September 6th have not prepared me even now to let go. I'm holding out hope that my prayers will be answered, and at the last moment she will bounce up and say, "Hi Dad." The last minute....

Categories: Daily