I was finishing up a few things at work before packing up and heading home. My husband and teenager were on their way to pick up my son's car after being serviced, so it was my job to pick up our younger son. Dinner with a glass of wine was all that was on my mind.
Then, my phone rang.
Ordinarily, I would not have answered it since I didn't recognize the number. Lately, however, there have been countless calls regarding my mom so I have learned to pick up anyway.
"Hello?" I said hesitatingly, hoping fervently that I was not about to be greeted by a telemarketer.
"Hi. Is this Amanda?" an unfamiliar voice queried.
"It is."
"Hi. This is Catherine, your mom's home health nurse. How are you?"
Well, I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to be good all that much longer, but I did the polite thing and said I was fine.
"I wanted to update you about your mom. . ."
It went downhill from there.
Over the course of the conversation, my plan for a relaxing evening at home was replaced with one that involved a trip to the ER. Only it wasn't really an emergency. (Why would you go to the Emergency Room if it weren't an emergency??) I had a hard time wrapping my head around what she was saying. One minute we had to go, the next we could wait until tomorrow. What made me lose it however, was the fact that I was just learning that when my mom had started antibiotics for an infection a week ago, the doctor had told her to send my mom to the ER if the wound wasn't looking better in three to five days. Why was I just hearing this now? It seemed like this would have been good information to have had a week ago. Forewarning us certainly seemed preferable to urging us to go to the ER at five o'clock at night.
I'm afraid I wasn't very nice as all my frustrations and worries of the past few weeks (or has it been months?) came spewing out all hot and fiery like lava from a raging volcano.
I got off the phone once again not knowing what was the right thing to do. It was a feeling I was experiencing a lot lately. I still hadn't figured it out when my husband and I arrived at my mom's. She ended up making the decision for us. She seemed stronger and more self-assured than she had the last few days and stated plainly that she didn't want to go to the ER. I told her that I would get in contact with her doctor to find out what her orders really were and made my mom agree that she would do whatever the doctor advised. I left, hoping we had made the right decision..
At an age where I used to think I'd have it all figured out, I'm finding myself all too often with so many questions and too few answers.
Your slice resonsates with me. My mom passed away in September at the age of almost 91. Prior to that I can remember middle of the night calls from the staff at her over 65 community, then from the home health aides we hired to help her, and finally by assisted living aides. It is very tricky. We want to do the right thing, but sometimes we don't know what that is. Trust yourself and know you are doing the best you can do. No one has all the answers. Remeber to take care of yourself too.
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