Mom is in the hospital. Has been for two weeks actually. They can't figure out what the problem is. So they test and test. And wait and wait.
Sure, it was starting to get to her. She was starting to feel really down about being there and not knowing what was wrong. But then this past Friday things took a turn for the worse. Mom started getting very confused again, something that had been so much better since my brother's visit. We were away for the weekend (Kit Kat had a basketball tournament) and when I went up to see Mom on Monday, it was unreal. I have never ever seen her like this. It was way more than confused. It was paranoia. And she was afraid 'they' would get to me too.
The doctor called me this morning. Mom has been refusing to eat, drink or take any medication since yesterday. She was talking about putting in an IV if Mom didn't snap out of it. I had some success when I went up this afternoon. Got her to drink some tea and some Ensure and eat some pudding. And convinced her to take a nap. It seems that she had been fighting to stay awake for the past few days, certain that if she slept something bad would happen to someone. Maybe us. Maybe someone she didn't know. Just someone.
Thankfully I seemed to have a bit of success getting her to snap out of it. To let go of it. More success than I had yesterday at any rate. And then she told me that she was able to eat because I was there. 'But I can't be here all the time, Mom. You have to eat.' "I know, but sometimes it's hard to do what you know you're suppose to do.
I never realized until that moment how badly she needed me there.
Torn. Between Mom. And the kids. My husband. My work.