Clearing the Air

Yesterday an air mattress arrived for my mother's bed to relieve the pain from the ulcers.  Two CENAs used some kind of device to help her into a wheelchair.  It was her first time out of bed in over a week.  My dad and I pushed her into the dining room.   It was her initial visit so she looked around, played a game from afar.  I brushed her hair and read her a story.

If only there was a way to keep her comfortable and pain free without making her sleepy.  Baby steps.  Our goals are for her to sit in her wheelchair for a couple hours every day and to feed herself.

My dad called me and while we were talking, my sister rang through.  I returned the call and received an earful for 30 minutes.  I had been expecting some kind of call as I knew the pressure between us was building.  She is resentful that I never made it up to the hospital until Sunday...six days after my mother had been admitted.  She said that she has just gone through hospice with her mother in law, and does not want to do it again.  She told me that I had said I would take care of this situation with my mother and dad, and she wants me to take care of my dad.   She cannot handle more insurance issues and my dad's confusion with them.  She is a martial arts instructor and has to deal with misbehaving students and difficult parents.  She does not want my father to have false hope about my mother and her recovery.  Perhaps a counselor should talk with him.

My dad asked me not to become angry and I didn't.  I listened and let her vent.  I am glad that we, in actuality she, had the opportunity to talk.

I believe the prognosis is wrong but I can understand how it would have been impossible to determine the correct one.  My mother was on morphine and failed both tests for rehab...moving her legs and feeding herself.  I was honestly surprised to see her green eyes wide awake and looking at me last Monday.  As with any illness, there are good days and bad days.  The stroke induced dementia will still be present.  However, I would hope that my mother could sit in her wheelchair, converse, interact, listen to stories, and transition from chair to restroom with the aid of her walker.