I am very tired. It has been a whirlwind couple of days.
Mom is slipping. The antibiotic has not stopped the renal failure; the Procrit has not helped her blood count. Both have been discontinued.
We have moved her to the nursing home unit of the nursing home; we are meeting with the hospice nurse on Sunday. It happened so suddenly! Two days ago she was a little better; yesterday she fell off the cliff. She was convinced that the black and blue bruises on her shins and wrists were from beatings and torture by the nurses, who were trying to force feed her. She fought back, trying to scratch and hit those poor women, those good souls who only want to care for her.
So the doctor was called, the room was saved, she was moved, paperwork was completed. By the time we left, she was in bed, drifting in and out, occasionally asking why she was there. I couldn't bring myself to say "You've started dying", so I just said she was ill and needed more care. I'm not convinced that she believed me. I think, deep down in her heart, she knows everything.
This weekend we'll clear out her room at the Assisted Living home, bring her some more clothes, and surround her with pictures and a few little treasures.
At one point, while the Admissions Director was talking to her, Mom said, "A 98-year old woman has no business prancing around downtown!"Aw heck, Mom, you go right ahead and prance.