And we're back

Mom's finally back home. She isn't completely mobile but she's got a walker and has taught herself to navigate through the house.  Her calves are in pathetic shape. She's got physical therapy though and they'll get her fixed up.

I watched a show on Netflix yesterday called "Exile". It has John Simm in it and I adore him so I enjoyed it because he was in it.  It also has Jim Broadbent who plays his father who has Alzheimer's. Oh for the love of kittens did it freak me out. I simply don't know what I would do if I had to watch that happen to my mother.

Not that Mom will get that. I just see her getting older and I see my responsibilities increasing.  I see Charles' mother getting older and further potential responsibility. I don't mind so much.  It doesn't even feel like an obligation but it is certainly intimidating.  I won't just dump mom off at the nearest nursing home and wish her luck. Charles won't do that to his mother either.

My mom told me things about the Nursing/Rehab facility where she stayed that really made me sad. She was so unhappy there but she put on a good face for me so I wouldn't feel guilty.  She added, "If you hadn't been there everyday like you were, I would be telling you a completely different story." 

One night she called me at 2:00AM because she wasn't able to get help to go to the bathroom and she'd wet the bed and no one would help her. I got in my car bleary-eyed, half dressed and pissed off. I charged into that building on a mission. The nurse was asked me, "Why didn't you call?" I simply said I didn't have the number. 

I knew my presence was a lot more formidable in person. I could intimidate them for the next six weeksby showing up on her second night at 2:00AM. I gave them a pass that night and didn't report them to the administration. They responded appropriately once I got there. 

The next time I called the administration. After that everyone loved my mom.  It may have been by force, but I do not care.  They had the choice to love my mom or lose their job. It was up to them.

Once she gained enough mobility to go to the bathroom herself she said she was fine, but the first 2 weeks were terrible.  It makes me sad to think she was up there faking it for me while she was suffering. I know they have limited staff.  I would have participated more. I just have to trust I did the best I could with the information I had.

She survived it with most of her dignity intact. She didn't complain while she was there and her complaints since she's been home were actually pretty mild. She respects that going up there every day was a chore for me and is thankful I did so they could see I gave a shit. 

Some of the patients had families who came to visit on a regular basis.  One woman's husband put a recliner in her room and stayed there with her. The woman across the hall from my mother who was suffering from dementia and horrible to her family had them coming with her laundry.  She was always dressed in matching outfits with matching shoes and socks. She was well cared for. There were others who sat in the middle of the room and begged to be talked to. 

I know I will need to do research on what happens next as she gets older. I know I will need to develop a plan to keep me and my relationships healthy. I will have to incorporate structure into her life that she would not create for herself. I will need to make sure she takes her medicine, eats enough, bathes and gets exercise. 

I will do with her like I do with my cats. I know she's far more complicated than my cats, but everyday I have morning and evening tasks for them. I will do the same for her.  I also have to fit in time to take care of myself in the mix. Thank goodness I participated in the training and volunteering with SafePlace. They taught me what to do and how to do it.

None of this is easy and some days it may be especially difficult but I hope I have the wisdom to know when I need to ask for help. I hope I have the ability to recognize when I need to change my routines. Mostly I hope I have the ability to take care of myself in the process.  

I have a crazy aunt who wasn't alright to begin with but chose to care for my grandmother.  She got that caretaker syndrome and it was really scary. The story in the end was really sad and weird and no one ended up okay. 

I love my mom too much for that to happen. I know next I will love Charles' mom too. I know we are a team in the fight against old age with our mothers but our love for them and each other is strong enough to do this as a team.