Since being decannulated, and especially since her stoma was closed, Namine has a much easier time talking. We’re continuing to teach her signing as well, and she’s improving every day. Of course she still signs quite a bit, which helps when we don’t understand her words. She’s still working on those consonants, but we hear the occasional “b” or “p” more and more often.
Last night when I gave Namine her meds, I saved the Motrin for last. She looked up at me, pointed to the syringe, and said, “Mo!” She opened her mouth and tilted her head back. She’s usually not that insistent on her pain meds, but I think the pain was a little worse last night.
If the pain is tolerable, she’ll sit through what I call her “foot cares” without complaint. But last night, even after giving her Motrin, she complained the whole way through. She didn’t fight me or cry, but she whined and moaned. I can’t say I blame her; I would be pretty crabby if I had a hole in my foot, too.
I wonder sometimes how much Namine figures things out without us telling her. I’ll give you a great example from last night. When we have bad weather coming, Jessica’s ankle hurts. We have several socks filled with rice, and I’ll heat one or more up for her to help ease the pain.
Jessica was sitting on the couch, and she had the rice socks on her lap. I put Namine on the couch for our nightly hymmn singing and prayers, and Namine lunged to grab the rice socks. She then put one after another on her legs, exclaiming every time she did. When she was done piling the socks, she patted them, smiling. I asked her if her legs hurt. She nodded and picked up the topmost sock, placing it back on her legs. “On!” she said.
I know we’ve never told her to put heat on if it hurts. But I do know she’s seen me heat up the socks for Jessica when her feet hurt. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if Namine came to the conclusion that she should do the same for her own legs.