Mom Could Use Some Good Thoughts...
Here I was all ready to write a screed about how nearly impossible it is to find a nice, flattering dress when one is a) short and b) a *bit* stout, when I received news that my mom is in the local hospital in Virginia.
The prognosis is NOT dire: She has a bladder infection, and she's suffering from exhaustion. Apparently, she has not been eating well or sleeping well lately. From what I understand, they think they may keep her a week or so to build her strength back up. During that time we will start to sort out next steps.
I was worried this might happen.
She's a month and a half from her 92nd birthday, and up until earlier this year, she was doing amazingly well for a nonagenarian. Then came the big snow. Or rather, snows. One atop the other, making it impossible for her to get out on her own, and making her frightened to try to negotiate the front walk so that others could drive her places.
I don't know if that was the catalyst for her depression or if it simply exacerbated a bout of depression and anxiety that was already brewing, but...
When I went to visit her in March, she seemed a little down and a fair bit slower than usual. I took her out and about--shopping, dining, church... but her usual spark was simply not there. I offered to go to the doctor with her because she had just started taking some anti-depressants, and she didn't like the way they made her feel--she said she felt more anxious with them than without them. But, no--she didn't see the need. We also talked about the likelihood of my brother, who lives the next town over, coming to live with her and help her out. After all, she has not been up to keeping that house for years. It's much too big for her, and she doesn't climb steps well. It was either that, or move to an assisted living apartment. She really didn't want to do either--but, well, we all knew (me, Mom, and my brother John) that sooner rather than later if she didn't make the choice herself, one would be made for her. It looks as if we're at that point.
In the time between my visit and now, I began receiving messages via Facebook and phone from Mom's neighbors and friends--she seemed confused; she seemed afraid to leave the house; she seemed so sad and tired. John was planning on moving in this very week. He still plans to do so, but I'm not sure if he will become her caregiver or the caretaker of the house while she recovers at an assisted living facility.
So, spare a good thought or, if you are so inclined, a prayer for her tonight.
She's a game old bird. It takes a lot to bring her down. Now we need to build her back up again, if we can.
Namaste!
The prognosis is NOT dire: She has a bladder infection, and she's suffering from exhaustion. Apparently, she has not been eating well or sleeping well lately. From what I understand, they think they may keep her a week or so to build her strength back up. During that time we will start to sort out next steps.
I was worried this might happen.
She's a month and a half from her 92nd birthday, and up until earlier this year, she was doing amazingly well for a nonagenarian. Then came the big snow. Or rather, snows. One atop the other, making it impossible for her to get out on her own, and making her frightened to try to negotiate the front walk so that others could drive her places.
I don't know if that was the catalyst for her depression or if it simply exacerbated a bout of depression and anxiety that was already brewing, but...
When I went to visit her in March, she seemed a little down and a fair bit slower than usual. I took her out and about--shopping, dining, church... but her usual spark was simply not there. I offered to go to the doctor with her because she had just started taking some anti-depressants, and she didn't like the way they made her feel--she said she felt more anxious with them than without them. But, no--she didn't see the need. We also talked about the likelihood of my brother, who lives the next town over, coming to live with her and help her out. After all, she has not been up to keeping that house for years. It's much too big for her, and she doesn't climb steps well. It was either that, or move to an assisted living apartment. She really didn't want to do either--but, well, we all knew (me, Mom, and my brother John) that sooner rather than later if she didn't make the choice herself, one would be made for her. It looks as if we're at that point.
In the time between my visit and now, I began receiving messages via Facebook and phone from Mom's neighbors and friends--she seemed confused; she seemed afraid to leave the house; she seemed so sad and tired. John was planning on moving in this very week. He still plans to do so, but I'm not sure if he will become her caregiver or the caretaker of the house while she recovers at an assisted living facility.
So, spare a good thought or, if you are so inclined, a prayer for her tonight.
She's a game old bird. It takes a lot to bring her down. Now we need to build her back up again, if we can.
Namaste!
Labels: mom
posted by Cathy VanPatten at 6:13 PM
3 comments
