Hi –
Mom was released from the hospital last night. The whole trip was so stupid. She just wouldn’t ride in my car to a follow-up doctor’s appointment, and insisted on going to the ER in an ambulance. I don’t necessarily know how it feels to be her, so I didn’t know if this was an ‘emergency’ or not. All I knew was she had to be seen about this volumous incontinence that was not a UTI, and she wouldn’t ride in my car.
She gets panic attacks in the car. I guess it’s uncomfortable to be upright. I guess being legally blind, it’s disorienting to see things moving in the periphery without being in control of the car? She futzs constantly with the air and heat, and is just so uncomfortable and panicky. She asks every 2 minutes how much longer we have to be in the car.
Any-who–I can go on and on about how irritating yesterday was, and I will explain the whole thing in another post. We have to go to that doctor’s appointment still…and she gets to ride in my car today instead of yesterday…long, irritating story.
In the meantime, I am so constantly amazed that this whole experience is this way. It amazes me how much a decision by one person to not try anymore (consciously, or unconsciously) can affect so many other people and be so expensive. It’s such a load on the medical system.
Those of you who follow my blog may object to my saying my mom is making a decision (on some level) not to try anymore. But, I’ve known her a long, long time and this is not the first time she’s been in this exact same situation. The last time led to our family involunarily committing her because she was doing exactly the same stuff: not eating, not toileting, not bathing, not getting out of bed. The authorities came and forcibly removed her from her home, because she would not let any family members in to help her, and she would not unlock the door to her apartment. The apartment managers (who she and I are friends with) also would not help our family by unlocking the door. Nor would the evict her. At the time, she was smoking, and on oxygen. She could have blown up the whole building or caused a fire, endangering at least 20 families. It was just so crazy.
She was hospitalized, and she had to attend a competency hearing. She was found incompetent and had to stay in the hospital and was ordered to live in Skilled Nursing and then Assisted Living. All the while insisting she was fine and that my grandmother and I were evil for doing what we did. Our choice was to let her die, or intervene.
I did ask at the time, if she won’t help herself, why should I help her? My grama thought I was evil and was more heinous than the logistics of helping mom. Many thousands of dollars and years later, I’m asking myself the same question again.
Last night at 5:00 pm she wouldn’t come home with me. She said she needs more care than I’m able to provide. She wants help with transferring, toileting, dressing, and diaper rash care. I know she is capable, and this whole thing is so hard. If I do it for her, she only gets worse. If I don’t she doesn’t do it either, and we’re led to the same place.
She’s not sick enough to be admitted, and yet, she’s unwilling to do the necessary things to keep herself healthy. And I’m sure the doctors think I’m the wacko.
There was no reason for the hospital to keep her. She is physically fine. One nurse said it’s called Failure to Thrive when someone just doesn’t want to put forth the effort to live, but won’t put forth the effort to kill themselves either. Forgive my plain language, I’m just so far beyond being emotional at this point. I think I grieved for her last at 8 years old when I realized how dangerous smoking was and how much she smoked.
So–again, why am I here? Why would this whole situation be possible? I have yet to accept that this is my life, and I still grieve for how destabilizing this is for me. Everytime I take a step forward to get stronger and more responsible, I have a setback that isn’t really mine.
I bleeping hate the effects and consequences I have for her decisions and actions. How can this be possible? It’s such an insult that despite my best efforts, my train car is tied to hers when she goes down. I have my husband and his parents to thank for the fact that I don’t have to go down totally and that I have a safety net.
I bleeping hate the situation. And it’s like there’s no one to be mad at–if she’s having some sort of cognitive changes, and knowing what I know about verbal/emotional abuse, there is no one to be mad at there either.
It’s like no one is listening to how completely bleeped up this whole situation is, and I can’t bleeping believe it just goes on and on with no end in sight.
I will say more facts when I have some resolution–at this point, mom’s Family Doctor is the only one who can make decisions about where she will live.
BLEEP BLEEP BLEEP.
