Each day is a little better

I’m pretty emotionally drained which tires me out, and takes any incentive to write or exercise or do anything, right out of me. Things are relatively better, though. My father is home. He checked out of the hospital before dinner on Thursday night. His adjustment to home has been good. He can get around amazingly well, but was really irritable for about 24 hours. Taking care of two of them is very similar to taking care of my two children. My mom even yells for me from her bed for her morning glass of juice. (Just like Harrison or Ella yell for their first glass of milk.) Yesterday morning my mother had to tell me that she had an accident. In bed. (Just like my Ella who isn’t quite potty trained in her sleep.) I didn’t even flinch. I just got her out of bed and stripped the sheets. I put down a towel, covered her back up and started the laundry.

And so the days go by. Breakfast, Dad’s walks, errands for them (still searching for a pajama set that is small enough for my mom’s increasingly smaller frame), lunch (my mom’s biggest meal), laundry, organizing closets, and dinner. It’s hard to keep track of all the medications and appointments, but my dad will set up a spread sheet in no time, I’m sure. To say he’s analytical and thorough are understatements.

My brother showed up last night for a family meeting. After meeting with the oncologist, and talking seriously with my dad, we have to start planning for all scenarios. After about an hour and a half, we realized that there are no easy answers. They want to go to Florida, but we worry that Mom is too weak to fly. She promised to start eating more to gain strength and to stop sabotaging her recovery (she doesn’t do her physical therapy or take all of her meds consistently.)

I have this increasing awareness that my presence makes a difference. My mother responds to me better than my father or brother. I’m very torn. I feel I should be here for her all the time, but can’t just leave my family. I want her to come and live with me, but we don’t have the room. I called Chris last night and told him we need to add on to the house. That went over well.

We need to take this one day at a time. My dad will become stronger every day. They have asked me to stay another week. I will be away from my husband and children about 14 days, but I know that my absence is necessary. Harry and Ella are being cared for. Chris has been amazing. He never complains and continually tells me how great everything is going.

My heartburn is still there, but my overwhelming anxiety seems to be lessening…or it could be that I’m just getting used to it.