10/28/2004 08:03:00 AM|||Amy|||I am really late to work, but for whatever self-defeating reason I won't let that stop me from taking a couple of minutes and writing about my rotten week. Over the weekend, I stayed up with my mother at night to help her move positions once or twice every hour. She was having trouble breathing, and she is in such bad shape that she can't sit up and lay down without help.

Perhaps later I will write her cautionary tale on why it is so incredibly important to take care of yourself. She's only 60, and there is nothing wrong with her that she could not have prevented or at least, minimized.

My father managed to arrange a doctor's appointment on Tuesday, but as he was trying to maneuver her out the back door to the car - she fell. Her legs gave out as she was trying to step over the threshhold and get to the wheelchair which would be waiting for her on the other side of the door. My mother is a large woman, and she can't be carried or even, very well supported, in these maneuvers. Most of the time we just have to pray that she'll be able to make those two steps because there is no other way to get her out the door unless we knock out the back wall of the house.

So, when she fell, my father and John managed to make her comfortable with pillows and blankets while they mulled over possible solutions to getting her up again. Finally, an ambulance was called and now she is residing in the heart ward of a hospital which was the setting for quite a few of my childhood outings - first, to see my grandmother and then my mother.

Some of the most fun I had when I was a child was at this hospital. My cousins and I would go exploring, and walk all over the impressively large complex. I doubt now that a trio of girls under the age of ten would get very far, but in those days we felt that as long as we didn't go outside - we would be safe. I suppose our parents felt that way too.

I will end with this tiny bit of observation: There is nothing more depressing than to watch your mother become her mother, except for possibly becoming your mother yourself - especially when you and your mother know better.

|||109896927181130701|||Gosh, I don't know if this week could be any more of a bitch10/30/2004 10:38:19 AM|||Lisa|||I'd cry and tell you how guilty I feel about leaving you alone to deal with this. But well, what can I say? When someone is determined to kill herself, what can anyone do to stop it? I've always thought that at least part of this is a desire to punish those around her. She would do this all the time when we were growing up. If we were doing something fun or pleasurable and something hapepned to upset her, then she would deny herself any further pleasure in order to make the rest of us feel bad. I'm sorry you have to deal with it. I am. But you can LEAVE. And you should.11/1/2004 01:56:24 PM|||Judy The Great|||*sigh* that sucks. I sympathize as my mother was much like your mother. Not the same issues, but the reason behind hers were the same. Manipulation, punishment, guilt, control and a bit of self loathing.

I wish I could do something to help.

I hope your mother recovers soon - I do like her, she's always very sweet to me (I'm not her child).

Do call me if you need to talk or whatever. Take care of yourself. You do NOT have to become your mother.

Hugs,11/1/2004 01:56:54 PM|||Judy The Great|||*sigh* that sucks. I sympathize as my mother was much like your mother. Not the same issues, but the reason behind hers were the same. Manipulation, punishment, guilt, control and a bit of self loathing.

I wish I could do something to help.

I hope your mother recovers soon - I do like her, she's always very sweet to me (I'm not her child).

Do call me if you need to talk or whatever. Take care of yourself. You do NOT have to become your mother.

Hugs,