So my mom is in the hospital, which was both inevitable and completely unexpected, as inevitable things are wont to be. The upshot is, I have zero bandwidth available for anything other than caring for her (and Hershey) and trying to keep my own self alive.
The first thing to go is anything like a nutritious diet. For example, I just ate “dinner”, which was comprised of one Arby’s cheese stick and a bite of coconut pie that’s so old it remembers when Eisenhower was president. I can’t even remember what else I managed to ingest today, but I assure you that none of it was good.
And why can they not put comfortable chairs in a hospital? After 14 hours in the ER yesterday waiting for a bed in a completely different hospital, my back is completely destroyed. Little couches for napping would also be appreciated.
I noticed that everyone in admitting is now wearing a “uniform” of a black zip-up track jacket, black sweat pants, and hideous black orthopedic shoes. One of the girls told me it’s because the Cleveland Clinic, one of the most prestigious health conglomerates on the planet, can’t afford real uniforms anymore.
Welcome to America.
Anyway, mom’s not doing great, mostly because she’s 90-freakin’-4, and she has two competing problems, each of which is potentially deadly on its own. And of course, say it with me, dementia symptoms increase dramatically in the hospital, so after one whole day, she’s already saying things like, “I think they’ll let me go home tomorrow.”
Which is the one place she’s probably never going again, but that’s a worry for later this week.
Of course, there is no sleep. How could I possibly sleep? I’m alone, trying to still do my job since my boss literally doesn’t even know who our clients are, and with zero knowledge of what happens in a few days if my mom is still alive and they want her out of the hospital, even though she will be too weak to walk.
I’ll probably need to start the hospice process, which again, I know nothing about, but I think they’ll put a hospital bed in her living room and there will be a nurse? I have no idea.
Anyway, she could live for days, weeks, or months. So that’s how long I will not be writing. I’ll probably be able to sneak in some reading, since dying involves a lot of waiting around, but I can barely string two words together right now.
So, bye. Whatever. It’s not like I was ever going to be Hemingway (whom I have never read by the way), but I thought, maybe Jennifer Egan? Or a funny Cormac McCarthy. Wrap your head around that one.
So sorry, Bev. Don’t forget to take care of yourself as well.
Oh Bev it so sucks losing a parent even when you know it's coming--sending you all lots of love.