Wednesday, June 21, 2017

{bad mental health day}

Some days the thought of one more health worker coming to see my mom is enough to drive me nuts. Yesterday we had the last visit (yes, waste of time and resources anyway) from her physical therapist, plus she got a bath from her aide. Today her nurse comes. So tired of having strangers in my house. The feeling of having to get up and moving as soon as I wake up.

I want my house back. It's not a safe place anymore. Too much activity revolving around my mom.
Every TIA/mini stroke makes her a bit more addled. Childlike. Like having a mentally ill person in the house, which I guess is true. I told her Monday her aide had to come on Tuesday because of the aide's own doctor's appointment.  Mom said she thought it was a holiday anyway. Washington's birthday. Well, no. Few months off.

Medicare/Medicaid will pay for Mom to have the nurse once a week and baths twice a week through the summer, then she'll likely be cut loose. We'll have to then self-pay for baths, something my brothers will help pay for. I draw the line at giving her baths. Sorry.

Part of my frustration is the 2 hour window of when folks come. Then I'll get the text...'On my way,' and I scramble. My girls are amazing. Tidy bathroom, fetch bath chair, get stack of folded towels ready, put up dogs, get dressed if I'm slow. 

But then I feel guilty. I should be grateful, maybe? Glad my mom is soldiering on? Happy she wakes up each morning? Actually, I think my relief will be so great when God calls her home, not even sure of the grieving process.

I have a friend, known her since we were 15, and her mom will soon move in with them. I told her, be sure this is what you want to do. Research. Look at your mom's money. Think hard. But my friend will be superwoman. She'll take her in. And it will exhaust her.

A friend at church praises us for having my mom. Says that's what families do. I just want to kick him in the shins.

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