My mother is back in the hospital again.
She's been in bed the last three days, refusing to leave her bedroom or eat. Late this afternoon she had a small seizure, but recovered and refused medical treatment. A few hours later she had a massive seizure where she became violtent, and hurt herself and my brother.
He called the paramedics, and she had another seizure while they were there, then three more in the hospital before I got there.
When I got there she was aparently alert, but she had no idea where she was, who she was, or who I was, and she became violent. She tried to rip out her IVS and walk away. She had another seizure and they took two men to restrain here... the atavan did the rest.
We took her to the Mayo clinic this time; the second best hospital in the state (best for everything but Neuro, second best in that); and there was absolutely zero bullshit about admitting her etc...
Great doctors, great nurses, everybody really seemed to give a damn, and they were incredibly competent and professional. If you ever need care in Phoenix, Mayo is the place for it.
Contrast that to our last few hospital experiences...
The REAL ER - Day 1
The REAL ER - Day 2
The REAL ER - Day 3
The REAL ER - She's Home
The REAL ER - Update
People ask me , with all this shit, how I can deal with it...
My mother has been sick for 23 years. She gets better every time, but every time its a little less, and a little less, and alittle les...
There isnt really any less left to go to.
My mother has been very close to suicidal. I think shes hording painkillers to use if she ever crosses the line she thinks is enough. I think maybe she's not taking her medications or eating to make herself weak enough to die without having it look like a suicide.
Honestly, I think I'm going to get a call from my brother some time soon saying my mother is dead.
Do I know what to do? Hell no. If we restrain her, or take things away, or try to stop her; that'll jsut make it worse... Its her life and her decision and theres not a damn thing I can do about it.
Shes been in the hospital 5 times this past year, I cant let it stop me every time. I'm going to live life, and what happens happens. I have to, or I'd jsut go crazy from the pain and the grief and everything else.
That's just not me.
God I don't want her to die, but I don't want her to live hating life like she does.
That's just not her.
I never had a father growing up; my grandfather was the closet thing to it for me. He died of cancer when I was 19, and I didn't get back in time to see him before he died.
I've always though that I would liked to have said goodbye, but I'm glad I didnt see him the way he became. I remember him the strong, vital, amazing man he was. I remember his last wrods to me "Do the right thing"... it's what he always said to me when I lefthim...
I'm watching my mother reach that point. She doesn't even know who I am sometimes... I can't even describe to you how much that hurts.
I'm jsut incoherently rambling at the moment. Typing through tears isn't working for me. I think I'll take a little break, maybe come back to this later when I can think straighter.
