It’s 3 a.m.

Image by wiwin.wr via Flickr

Well, it was about 40 minutes ago. All week I’ve been waking up between two and three in the morning. This is probably because I’ve been getting to bed between nine and ten. To say my days have been mentally exhausting is an understatement.

Mom moved to her senior community’s rehab floor yesterday. She’s settled in for now but waiting for a private room. It was comforting to see some key caregivers still there from her stay last year when she was recovering from pneumonia. In particular, Ben, her nurse, and Beata, head of PT.

As dinner time rolled around, mom seemed a bit tired; Beata had a mini PT/eval session with her. I also noticed at dinner, well, actually in the hospital, that it looked as though she had a little difficulty in her holding her fork in her right hand. She didn’t have a real good grip and had some eye-hand coordination trouble picking up her food. I’m wondering if she now did something to her right arm from the fall or maybe this is related to her dementia. I mentioned this to Ben and asked him to mention something to occupational therapy tomorrow so they can check this out.

I still can’t help but feel responsible for what mom is having to go through now. I was there! I should have known better. I should have just brought the car around. I don’t want to go back to work today. Heck, I don’t want to go to work at all, and if I could I’d quit. I just want  to stay with mom and help her through this.


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