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| blood transfusion |
I am sad to report that I have been spending this last month in the hospital.
I am not the patient but instead my mother still is.
The infection spread to her knee, or started there, or her mouth post dental work or in her bladder or in her kidney or....the theories are stacked but none hold a clear answer.
Not all of us are cut out to be caregivers, it requires a kind of patience that after serval days wears thin...and then thinner and thinner and thinner. My parents dealt with it over and over again, with grandparents living with us because no one else stepped up.
I was the person who stepped up first and stayed the latest.
I am not tooting my horn, in fact I have a really hard time accepting compliments or accolades for anything I do. Which makes acknowledgements of what I have done this past month make me want to run for the hills.
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pages of observation
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So, I have essentially been living by my mothers side this last month; so my father could get some sleep and do some work that was piling up and visit his clients.
I worked when I could at my other job, for an hour here and there; waking at 4:30am to call the nurses station and then send 10 people text message early am updates, then get myself dressed and drive the 45minutes into town to sit at the hospital all day.
Write down every pill she took, every temperture recorded, every minute of how long she slept and what she was hallucinating about. Ask the correct questions of doctors and chase down nurses or get cups of ice. Send my father home to make sure he ate and took his evening pills and got some time with his eyes closed. Send text messages all day long to additional people as they requested new information and came up with questions of their own. Then around 7pm, put myself into a car, drive the 45minutes home, arrive home and remember that I had not eaten all day, find something in the fridge or on the counter to push into my mouth before taking a shower, kissing my already sleeping hubby and crying myself to sleep to start it all again.
I haven't seen hubby but for the evenings, as I crawl into bed. I haven't had any studio time in the last month. I have missed submission deadlines, avoided answering emails, gave up my garden plot, and put everything else on the back burner.
Although I speak to my brother throughout the day, my brother took the time to send me a text thanking my for everything I have done, as he is not able to be as patient as is needed or as compassionate as the situation requires. It made me cry.
My hubby told me on the phone that a co-worker asked how he was, he said:
" my wife leaves really early in the morning, and I don't see her all day.
Then she comes home really late at night,;she sits for half an hour and cries and then
falls asleep. Night after night"
I got a call from my father last night while driving home telling me that my mother chose me to be her physical therapst for her home care. I started to cry, weep...I am spent.
After a sleepless night, I found the inner advocate this morning and told my father during our early am call that I can not be everything, mother needs an outside PT person. I can help do the homework but someone else needs to be added to the mix.
It was amazing to hear those words come from my mouth, I felt horrible telling my father that I couldn't do something for my mother or him. I struggle with that but know that I need some mental health time too.
As I was sitting next to my narcotic doozing mother today, wondering if I would ever see the fighter that she once was again, she sat strait up and said " I want to walk outside"
We got up and out the door....it was her longest walk in the last month.
She went out the door, to the neighbors, turned and up a walking path...and back inside.
It was like winning the lottery, like maybe it will be ok afterall.
Maybe I will get my life back again and have breakfast with my hubby again soon.
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| Breaking out of her box |
