My mother is home and I almost forgot that really, that is good news. She’s 89 years old.
She had some sort of illness, we don’t know what. But sometime after Tuesday a week and a half ago, she got diarrhea. And then she got dehydrated. It was messy, and she ended up on the floor… unable to get up or really speak. And thank God, my brother Sesshu came over and saved her… and insisted she go to the hospital.
A couple of days on an IV and her stats were pretty normal, Her kidneys were again functioning. And yesterday, she went home. The reason I forget that this is good news is because back on Tuesday when they said she could go home, it wasn’t really too logical… she hadn’t walked in a week. She hadn’t eaten solid food, or made it to the bathroom… and we had nothing set up as far as care… so concern and worry overshadowed the fact that in spite of a rather life threatening episode, she really is okay and probably on her way back to some level of independence.
But right now, she is dependent. And she’s going to need to adjust to a few things which are sort of humiliating… stuff about toileting and bathing, and basically asking for help… and I know she doesn’t like these things.
And my brother, Sesshu has missed work all week. Concerned. Worried. Occasionally miffed. But really looking out for her best interests. He’s back at work. I missed Monday, Tuesday, and today. And the substitutes they sent to my class were… unusual.
I went to the doctor to have him look at these sores or abrasions on my feet. They weren’t healing and I thought it might be ringworm or some fungal reaction to the prednisone I had to take for a spider bite that put me out for three days. It has been that kind of month… on top of that I am going to Maui in a couple of weeks for a much needed break. All of this is pretty stressful.
I have a truck load of bags and boxes… of adult diapers and nutrition drinks and showers seats and grab bars and night lights… And I am running a bit late.
And I think all of this is a bit of a blessing… it may or may not be me just hunting for some silver lining… that this month of March marks two years since Ethan’s death. And I have had no time to get depressed… I’ve been too worried. Concerned. Occupied.
It seems a little flip to say that life goes on… but life does go on.