Graves Disease. Hyperthyroidism. Both very treatable. Both easily identifiable. Both missed. Wow. My mother has been sick for months, really really sick, like the close-to-death kind of sick. And the whole time, it was something that they missed. I don’t even know what to say. How does that happen? And the doctors are shocked as well. They are being open and honest with us, saying things like, ‘we missed it’, ‘checking thyroid is standard procedure’, ‘I feel like an idiot’. Yes, a doctor actually said that. This was all avoidable. Her thyroid numbers were off as far back as May 2013, and no one followed through with that report. 14 months. Wow.
So the good news is, Mom is going to get better. She is already so much better. That is wonderful and we feel blessed. We sincerely thought we’d be burying her before summer’s end. All signs point to another chance. She has been given more time.
The bad news is she won’t be content here. We’ve been through this before. Every time her health improves. Same story. And I don’t blame her. She had an active life she loved. She wants her life back. And who knows, maybe she’ll get it back… time will tell.
I called my sibs together today for another family meeting. Mom was so sick 6 weeks ago when we met, she doesn’t even recall that conversation or any of the decisions made during the meeting. Her lease is up at the end of the month. We need to move ahead packing and storing, and I need some reinforcements before I forge ahead. Even though Mom seems to be on the path to recovery, she will not be able to live alone for months. She has already paid five months rent for an apartment that no one is living in. The lease is up, the apartment has to go.
We talked in circles — the dementia rearing its ugly head — but she did, in the end, agree about the apartment. I will get supplies and begin packing evenings this week. I wonder how much of the conversation she’ll remember, and how much of it will be twisted and repeated incorrectly. She has already had one phone call from a friend — 10 minutes after everyone left — and many details were skewed already. It is sad.
And so I’m struggling right now. Feeling sorry for myself. My sibs have left — all to their different Sunday evening activities, and I’m here at home — with Mom. Even my husband and daughter flew the coop. (After the tense afternoon meeting, my husband decided it was a good time to power wash the house — anything to get outside).
Mom is mobile, and we can get out. But frankly, we’re kind of tired of each other. We’re both well-mannered enough to remain cool, calm and collected. We’re both kind and considerate to each other. But I want out of the house to do something else. And so does she.
I did go out to eat with my husband earlier today, well, my husband…. and my mom. My mother is always here. Around every corner. And I know some day, I will not be able to say that. She will be gone. Guilt. But it’s like a new mother with that toddler. She loves him more than life itself, but he is always there. No escape. The days are long and monotonous. I’m sure that is exactly how my mom feels too. I am always here. She never has any privacy. She never has a minute to herself. We just need air. Sometimes there is no air.
We are buggy.
We need a break.
I am reading a book on listing good things. Remembering and counting. Practice. Practice thankfulness.
I am thankful for the time I’ve had with my mother. I am thankful for the lessons being learned as I care for her. I’m thankful for the relationship she has developed with my grandchildren, and the fact that they will remember GG. I’m thankful for a husband who has been kind and generous to his mother-in-law. I’m thankful for Mom’s second chance at life. I am thankful for the health, strength and time I have to invest in my mother.
I am feeling a little blue, sorry for me, but I know God is faithful. I know He is good. And He is working all this out to His glory.
Today is just a bump in the road on this journey with my mom.
Tomorrow we will be fine.
It’s all good, and we will be okay.
Everyone has moments, or days, when they just feel overwhelmed with what’s on their plate, right? Practice. Practice.