Tuesday July 5th, 2016
It had been a week. A full week of no sleep, of tears of fear, of panic and terror, of prayer of more emotions than I could keep track of and can remember now.
I had tried to sleep but kept having the worst nightmares of Mom dying and my boyfriend leaving me. He and I had a huge fight right before I left, I was nervous and scared and picked fight. It seems that the stress of the situation was making all my fears surface in my dreams. I called him frantic at 4am crying. I was sobbing so hard that I could barely get the words out. I told him about the dreams and sobbed Please don;t lave me, the first time I had ever said that in my entire life. He reassured me that he was staying, that he loved me and that I had nothing to worry about.
This was Tuesday and Mom was continued to eat and getting stronger. They had sent a woman up to assess her and give her physical therapy to help her with her strength and walking again. This lady was tiny, maybe a size zero, but was strong as an ox. She picked my mother up and guided her around with one arm. She showed Mom how to do simple leg lift exercises and Mom liked them. She was joking around, smiling and had that lightning wit. For the first time since she had been admitted I thought that there was a chance she might survive.
I was making all of the medical decisions at this point. I didn’t want to, but Mom did not understand and Dad flat out said that he could not handle it. So they both looked at me. And I would talk to the doctors and take notes and call my friends in the medical field and ask them questions and I would Google. And I prayed. I prayed almost frantically with every extra breath I had, every extra second I had. I was acutely aware of what was at steak and why I had to make the absolute right decisions. Why there was no room very error. If I made the wrong choice and she dies as result, my family would never forgive me. And I would never forgive myself.
The doctors in Palliative care said that she was doing well, but would need to be in a rehab center after she was released to help her build up her muscles and strength. They warned that though she was doing good, it would be an extremely difficult recovery for Mom. It would takes months of her staying a rehab facility to again her strength and get used to eating again. She was 75, and what she was facing would be hard for someone younger, so it would be very hard for her.
We talked about getting her transferred to a rehab facility in Atlanta. Dad would live with us while Mom stayed at the rehab place. We could get her transferred to somewhere close. They began look fir places and told me they would have a list for me in the next day or so.
I called my boyfriend and explained the situation to him. Without even having to ask him, he stated, “Yes, they can live here with us. Bring them on up. Don’t even worry about me.” I was so relieved to have that kind of support that I just broke down into tears. I was so in love with him and thanked God that he gave me someone so incredible and wonderful I thought this is what it is like to finally have a partner that is sent from God. I could not believe that I was so lucky.
Relieved and thankful that Mom was going to live, I worked on my freelance assignment, or tried to anyway. Mom and Dad were so giddy together. Dad was giddy that she was doing so well, and Mom was giddy to see him and be feeling so much better. She was eating and laughing. She was almost getting up and walking by herself. She and Dad were like little kids, giggling with eat other and “tattling” to me little things that they were doing. I even got aggravated at them because I had to finish my assignment and I couldn’t write because they would not leave me alone for playfully tattling on each other. Looking back I wish I had been able to take more time to watch them be so playful with each other.
As soon as I was done working, that is exactly what I did. And we spent the rest of the evening laughing an being hopeful.
That night I almost slept well, and slept better than I had since Mom was admitted.