I received two calls yesterday saying Mom was ready to be moved. Well, just as soon as we figure out who will take her, we’ll check it out. She needs a high level of care, which, she does not seem to realize although she has not been out of her room or her bed for that matter, in many days. Sometimes she looks at me as though she is blaming me for this move somehow. If I had the power and unlimited funds, she would go home. Seriously, this is not like Mickey. He could move around and get himself to the bathroom, though he often forgot. She knows when she hast to go, but can’t do it without the help of two people or one very skilled bedpan operator.

I know I’m being a total baby, but she has been kind of rude and somewhat hurtful lately. Never mind the fact that I’m there twice a day everyday for several hours,  bringing her whatever she asks for, but the attitude is starting to wear thin. No thank you’s ever. Not in the vocabulary. At least not for me. I guess it’s the way she talks to me as much as what she says that is becoming intolerable. I don’t need this shit. I’m running on empty. Just freaking be nice. I guess if it wasn’t just me, it wouldn’t bother me so much……

I woke up this morning in a total funk. It was the first time in weeks that I was able to be at home alone for a few hours. To be quiet and to sit still. But all I want to do is cry or crawl back in bed and assume the fetal position.  When did this all get so incredibly painful? I still can’t drive a car safely, but I’m hoping that I can soon. On the other hand, it is wonderful to not have to hurry up and go to the hospital or anyplace else I don’t want to be.

I called mom to see how she is doing and what her mood is like today. She’s kind of down too. She is not happy with her situation and I don’t blame her one bit. I think we are both to the point where seeing the positive or improvements of any sort just seems like a stretch.