Shannon is in town for the weekend. So naturally the family got together for a barbecue yesterday. What was supposed to be a restful family afternoon or card playing, pie baking, summer goodness had its bumps. In fact, at one point it bumped my out to the front steps in the dusky light choking back tears on the phone as I left a voicemail for the social worker, "I know it's Saturday and you are unavailable, but Mom's being horrible and we don't know what to do."
Nothing, absolutely nothing is making mom happy. And no one, absolutely no one can get through to her regarding the two expectations I wrote about last post.
While it's apparent to me that this blog to date has not represented a success story, it is the truth of what is happening, and that was my goal from the get-go: to share an honest representation of the days we travel on this winding path. These are, I pray, the growing pains of the situation. The settling in. The labor pains. I was talking to a friend yesterday and she was likening it to the first couple weeks of anything new: "It's like the first pancake. Just throw it out." So I'm tring to throw the negativity out the window. But still. I gotta tell you some of the highlights.
First, David the physical therapist went by to see her yesterday morning as promised. Only Tokasa was there with her because the rest of us were at the grandkids' Tae Kwon Do tournament. The report we got from Mom later was that he just stopped by to say hi. That was it. All happy and smiles. We knew better but let it rest for the time being. And then later, after her physician phoned me to tell me that the skin culture taken showed infection and Mom had to start two different antibiotics immediately that were waiting at the pharmacy, it came out that he was very disappointed in the state of her pressure wound and it was all Tokasa's fault. We told her that was BS, and in no uncertain terms it was absolutely NOT Tokasa's fault because no one can get mom to rest off of her back on her side for an hour twice a day like she is supposed to do (or follow any directions for that matter). And furthermore, she sceamed at Tokasa for calling the nurse on Friday when the bandage fell off and Tokasa was worried about infection. We got mom to bed, resting on her side for a bit in the afternoon, last thing she said was, "You know that big green painting bucket in the backyard the baby plays in the water with? Just bring it to me and I'll dunk my head and drown myself!" So, that was round one.
But the most grevious thing that happened was that Brooke caught mom swatting at Tokasa when she was trying to move her wheelchair. Brooke called her on that immediately, You CANNOT hit anyone. What are you thinking? And she said, "That was only after she has been mean to me all day." Well, we had been there all day and that was just not true. Brooke said to her, "Nanny if you could see yourself now with the eyes you had twenty years ago you'd be so ashamed of your behavior! "
Sometimes I wonder. Is it age or is it her deep seeded anger. Probably both.
Thus, the approaching darkness found me on the front steps dialing the social worker with a lost plea for help. And then I had to kind of laugh. Had I brought her the big green painting bucket? She would have snapped that it was all wrong, I should have brought a pillow.
Just venting. Not in any way giving up. We didn't play cards. We did make the pies. But nobody actually got around to eating them.