Things are liable to be sketchy around here for a while. There are some issues that need to be dealt with, and it’s going to take time away from the keyboard and work, etc. Everything is being sorted out, but my pet-project is again on hold for now.

This is a personal-ish, wandery, crazy-making post, so don’t click through if you don’t want the drama.

My mother was admitted to hospital last night, and the conversation Carrie and I had on the way there was interesting. Thought provoking and painful, it also led me to the conclusion that I’m not as crazy as I thought I was.

For the past year, our family has done what we can, within reason, to keep my mother’s health up. She is in end stage COPD; a fancy way to say her lungs are shit and she’s basically smothering to death very slowly. Lack of oxygen coupled with her particular quirks have driven her into a really, really bad state.

We didn’t push for home care when we should have. Despite our many jokes of having her put in a home, we didn’t. The situation now is only partly our fault however.

This WHOLE THING could have been prevented if she had actually quit smoking and stayed that way. Unfortunately there were drags stolen or given, a whole one or a whole pack given, and despite knowing that each one literally banged down the lid of the coffin, she did continue to smoke. A family meltdown (brought on a great deal by her own actions) gave her the perfect ‘excuse’ to slide right back into a two-to-three pack a day habit. She’s claiming only 15 a day, but the smell in her house, and other people witnessing it, tells me another story.

So, lack of oxygen. Oxygen fuels your blood and brain, and when you don’t have what you need of it, your brain is damaged. When this goes on for a long time, a lot of the brain is damaged. When you’re on about 15 different prescriptions and they aren’t sorted into pill packs, how do you remember if you’ve taken this or that, or – as I am thinking is the case this time – do you just maybe not take one or two. Maybe by accident, or maybe… maybe on purpose.

If this goes on for months, what does your body do?

Did she manipulate this situation the same as she has before? Would she truly go that far to make a point?

This is why we distrust our feelings. There have been so many fake close calls, fake pains, fake illnesses; sometimes even the fake is faked. When a real crisis happens, and we don’t respond the way we should, the guilt is heavy.

We can not be blamed for our lack of empathy or seeming lack of concern. We have been programmed, just like Pavlov’s dogs, to doubt.

The problem now lies in our hands, though. Do I fight for power of attorney, do we fight to have her placed in personal care? Will home care visits be enough, or will she even refuse that? The coordinator told me today that if she refuses, she can not be forced.

How long can I do this with my own health issue, recently diagnosed, before it’s too much?

As always, she knows just when to hit the big red button.

Guilted number one, signing off for this week…

<3 JL