Hello all, I know it’s been a while since I last posted. I really haven’t felt like it and finding the time has been foreign to me. Lots of things happening and I am trying my best to keep up with each new thing that seems to happen daily. It’s a struggle just to get out of bed each morning. There just doesn’t seem to be enough night-time anymore. By the time I finally get settled in, I can’t sleep. So I read. I’ve probably read more in the last few months than I have in the whole year. Gravitating towards books of Alzheimer’s and Hospice Care, not the details or the facts nor the statistics. More along the lines of personal journals of others sharing experiences and their own burdens. They seem to be more informative and so close to my own experiences so far. Trying to gather as much as I can from other’s dealings and personal journey’s with the hope I can learn and feel my way through this dark and scary road.
Every min, hour and day, I constantly think of my mother and what she might feel, need, want. Is she scared, comfortable, hungry, angry? What can I do for her today? Is she ok? How is she feeling, or is she missing me? How much longer will I have her? Does she even know who I am anymore? Am I doing the right thing? Does she realize she isn’t in her home. Will she ever forgive me for taking her from her home? These are the main questions I ask. I never get an answer. Probably never will.
Starting with the nursing home, I would have to say that was the worst day of my entire life, other than my dad’s death. Ever. Knowing, just knowing once she was removed from her home, life would never be the same. And it’s not been and will never be. I do know that Mom is ok. She’s a trooper and still has the same personality only not so much. I don’t know how to explain it, but she still has some of her arrogance and is still quick with her sour puss attitude. I love that she still has that. She’s not afraid to tell you go to … you know.
Last week I had to make a decision that would take us down a different road. One that was inevitably would be coming up anyway. The doctor suggested I start thinking about Hospice. My world pretty much crumbled. The only dealings I had with Hospice was when my Dad was sick, but he wasn’t on Hospice but for maybe a week or so. So I had no idea other than the fact that it is usually suggested if the patients is looking at making the transfer from rehabilitative care (where the person has a chance to get better) to making the person more comfortable towards the end of life.
With Mom’s siblings and family coming in from different parts of the country, I knew I didn’t have to make the decision by myself. With my two uncles and mom’s sister-in-law, we sat down and talked it through. Each of them coming to my rescue with the help I needed to make the decision of trying to make her better, or to give her a chance to live as pain free and comfortable as possible. Since she already had in her will, her own choices, I really had no other choice but to add her name to the ever-increasing list of hospice patients already on their own journey. My mother would now become a member of hospice and palliative care. It’s been only a week and I can already see the difference it has made just in this short time. She’s more alert, more rested, and not so much in pain anymore. She doesn’t seem to be so agitated and seems a little more content. However, for my own, I wish she would eat a little more, but that is ok, as long as she eats a small amount, that’s enough for now. I can’t say for sure exactly what changed, but something did. The day after I signed the paper, she seemed to be better. I am just hoping it lasts.
As for me, I still visit probably more than I should. Sometimes, I just set away from where she is and watch her. She seems so lost and small. It breaks my heart sometimes and I just wish I could hold her so her pain and suffering would go away. She is my mother and I am her daughter. I miss her. Even when I am with her.
