Day Sixteen

It’s been another long night. Mom has decided that she is afraid to sleep because she’s afraid she might not wake up. I suppose that is a legitimate fear, but she wants me with her at all times, so my sleep is suffering — greatly.

The physical therapist says that Mom probably knows she’s failing and that the end is near. Of course the therapist makes a horrible face as she says this. It’s kind of a “poor thing” face. Perhaps I should go the hospice route after all…The nurse says to give her an Ativan tonight for the anxiety and then talk to the doctor tomorrow for something stronger.

If it were up to just me, I would call in hospice because I know I would get extra help and there would be people trained in end-of-life care. Nurses, social workers, and aides would be able to help Mom, Jim, and me cope with the inevitable. However, other people’s opinions matter in this instance, and those other people are not ready for hospice. Those other people include my mother.

When she was in the hospital last, on one of her most lucid days, I asked her what kind of care she thought we should ask for. Did she want to be able to go back to the hospital if something else happened? Or would she prefer to just let nature take its course? She said she wanted to have the option to return to the hospital, just in case. End of discussion.

And so I’m stuck. The irony is that now, at 3:00 in the afternoon, Mom is sound asleep! Unfortunately, I have to work, otherwise I would take a nap or clean this house. There are so many things that need to be done! But Mom has to take priority, so some of them don’t get done, like putting the ornaments on the Christmas tree…maybe tonight?

If this post seems jumbled and random, it’s because it matches my state of mind. I simply don’t know what’s going on in my own home or my own brain right now!