After what seemed like a miraculous turnaround, mom had a fairly good day on Sunday. She didn’t sleep as much, she was able to eat a little and she actively seemed to listen. It was very difficult to understand most of the things she tried to say, but she could get yes or no across pretty well most of the time. I know in the big scheme of things this day didn’t mean as much as I would like it to. How could it? There is a tumor that is growing. It will not suddenly reduce in size without treatment. There is infection. High blood sugar. Swelling. The possibility of new DVT’s or PE’s. I think change is what is constant-the tumor presses this way and that and there are bound to be countless effects. On Sunday, we were lucky and the change was more positive than negative, but I think we can be certain that it will not last. On this, I would love to be wrong.

Mom had mentioned how she would like to see her cat, Brandy. So Tyler and I went to her house and put Idgie’s old puppy harness and leash on her and put her in her carrier to go for a visit. I doubt we were gone an hour but by the time we got back, mom was wiped out and had some pain in her back. She didn’t seem that interested or engaged, which we both found surprising. Brandy was wonderful, sitting very quietly on the bed next to mom. She met some of the nurses and other patients, all of whom were impressed that a cat was on a harness and leash and so well behaved. Not bad for the first time.

On our way to get Brandy, we were stopped by Dr. Z, the hospitalist, who wanted to talk about getting hospice in for a re-evaluation in the morning. We once again discussed inpatient hospice vs. hospice at Handmaker. I mentioned that in all the time mom was there, and especially now when she is no longer getting out of bed, I have never seen anyone turn her. Ever. I will voice my concern about that to the hospice folks as well. If she is not turned often enough or does not have the appropriate type of bed, she may experience skin breakdown, or bedsores. Lo and behold by the time we got back, the aids started turning her every 2 hours. One more thing that was not considered until I mentioned it. Come on!

Someone may have mentioned to me yesterday, that there are those who find my  choice of words annoying, but I think offensive is probably a far more accurate description. I would love to apologize for that, but I won’t. Here’s the way I look at it, the last few months of my life have been hell. I’m living it every day. I don’t see my mom once or twice a week, not every other week, not every three weeks. I have missed 6 days out of the last 80, and that was when I visited my daughter. I have earned the right to drop every last f-bomb or whatever I see fit. It’s how I feel. I love being able to pass along information about my mother for her friends in one place that is easy to access. Ultimately, though, this blog is for me. How self-centered does that sound? Guilty, as charged-it is totally self-centered. I want to chronicle this time and be able to go back and read it, when it doesn’t hurt so bad. It’s easy to lose track of what happened and when and how it felt at the time. This experience has filled me with sadness, hope, disappointment, surprise, frustration, anger, and sometimes rage. You can choose to join me and accept me, potty mouth and all, or not, it’s up to you. At the end of the day and at the beginning of the next day when it’s just me and my laptop, this is what comes out with no filter, and I believe if it didn’t come out here, I would probably explode.

We had the appointment with the hospice intake nurse this morning and mom is now a hospice patient. All the paperwork is done for any possible transfer to Peppi’s and she is prepaid for her stay here for the next few weeks. It all feels unreal.