Frustration

Well...things have taken a turn for the worse. With mom's blood sugar and morphine under control, she's still talking to dead people and she thinks that everything she sees on TV is there in real life. Much like a parrot, she mimics what is said on TV. Over the baby monitor this morning, I heard her talking about low-cost refi and how happy the cows are.

Sigh.

We think there are tell-tale signs that she's entering the active phase of dying. Her urine has turned the color of coffee or tea, the time between breaths has increased, she's confused and disoriented and there appears to be some mottling on her legs. The hospice nurse is coming today and will call me with an update.

Oddly enough this isn't the most distressing part of the whole process. I come from a family of big talkers. "If you need anything, I'm here for you." We get that a lot. But when my sister Karen and I need someone to take the night watch, there is no one available. Not to play martyr, but my sister and I have given up a lot to be here. She came up to Potosi with her kids (ages 7 and 11). She rarely sees her husband. Their kids rarely see their dad. They've given up their home, their friends, their beds, their toys. That's a lot to give up for boys. This has all been going on since June 17th when we drove home to go to the doctor appointment that confirmed the terminal status of her cancer. I have a new house that I haven't even been able to unpack because I can't be there. I have friends I haven't seen in two months. I have a partner that I don't know when I'll see again. Dale's job is crazy and he can't take time off, and it's a 8.5 hour drive so he can't just swing by for a weekend. I have a job that I'm barely able to do. I work remotely by going to a local internet cafe during the day, but I can't keep doing this for much longer.

Karen and I are at the end of our ropes. Mom doesn't want to be put in a care facility and we don't want to put her there. The rest of the family doesn't want to put her there, yet they're not willing to be there when she needs someone there the most. When Karen mentions that we could take her to Springfield to be at her house where the two of us could work and take care of her, everyone else freaks out and acts like we're trying to steal her away so no one could ever see her again. They don't understand that if Karen and I are the only ones willing to take care of her, that is the only place we can do it.

Who knows what will happen. I just want to go home.