I spent the first several months in a strange, awful daze. Never mind the problems I had never dealt with– incontinence, non-delerium confusion, attempts to navigate her own neighbourhood falling apart– but she was also leaving me as a person who would have either insight or a leading role in answering historical family questions. I was with my mom, but I was dealing with a best friend who could not communicate in a rational or sustained way, trying to help rehab and trying to ignore the daily increase in likelihood it was– this time– going to be in vain.
She had gone to the hospital in late November, things simply were getting worse and I was desperately wishing I could figure out the next miracle.
I shut down and ignored the part of me that said this had gone on too long, the increased confusion in elders when they move should have settled by now, and it should be far less traumatic than for others– she used to live here, right? So I was still hoping she would turn around, that this was a stop along the way. She was released from hospital and was ‘better’ considerably, though still not good. I maintained hope when, in hindsight, that form of hope was pointless.
Dec 4 2014
Donna update: Demanding the impossible is, somehow, working again. Protecting her from too many details I know she would like spared a public forum, let me say that leaving the hospital, even with her still remaining there, it was clear that I was actually seeing my mother, and not a shell with her body trapping the real Donna inside. I’ve got a new level of energy, and most importantly as with any struggle, hope.
If we have been talking already, we can talk more about where things are at now off of this forum. But in a sentence– we have been realistic and demanded the impossible because there was no choice. I have had to remind myself constantly that I’m not even a doctor, let alone a magician– but she’s fighting with me again, and we have new reasons to celebrate. All I needed to do to help keep her fighting in the hospital was remind her that no health official is going to convince me to give up on her, in her home, being herself in dignity. She’s doing her part and I’ll just keep doing mine.
But her belief in herself is back. That’s always made her invincible and I just love her more every day. Thanks to all who have continued to support us both; we have nothing to lose but indignity. We have a world to win. Hasta La Victoria siempre.