Day 42: Guilt

I smiled my ass of on Sunday; despite all of the medical drama going on with our family, I painted my face all up and trekked to the city- sans-MiniLatte to enjoy dinner and a concert with my hubby. It was a blast, and I feel guilty as shit. I know I shouldn't, however, according to my therapist, it's a very common emotional response to an experience such as mine.  It's called survivor's guilt and is actually a form of PTSD. Even though there wasn't a shared event between us that landed my mom in the hospital and not me, this extended hospitalization is a traumatic event that is dramatically shaping our lives and I have to cope with the fall out and the emotions that go with this. Trust me, I've been doing my share of bargaining to wish my mom healthy again.
    Back in February, with just a little under a week to go until Mom came for her visit; I had one of those red-letter days- work was fantastic; the weather was summer-like and I came home to two e-mails; one congratulating me for getting picked for a Meet & Greet with Blake Shelton at his upcoming concert, and the other with pre-sale tickets for one of my favorite bands- Train- for their San Francisco tour. I was beyond excited.  I frantically called my mom until she picked up the phone because I was so excited to share all of the good news. Not that any of it benefited her, but because she is always so supportive of me. As usual our phone conversation was uplifting and filled with laughter- we could do that, make each other laugh over nearly anything, our sense of humor are very similar (is that genetic??!!). 
    There have been so many celebratory events since she went in the hospital- St. Patrick's Day, our ten year anniversary; her 62nd birthday, Easter that have been low key and glazed over.  All-out celebrating just doesn't feel right, nor do I have the energy. We've also managed to go to two concerts and a basketball game during this time.  The outings are much needed distractions and although fun, I spent most of the time feeling guilty for attempting to have a good time while my incredible mother is bed-ridden, a prisoner in her own body..... I'm somewhat rational and realize that my presence either in the hospital or elsewhere isn't going to change the outcome of her prognosis for that day. It just doesn't feel right to be having a good time either; it also doesn't feel right to wallow in negative emotions. There isn't a happy medium right now- if there was, I'd give anything to find it- I'd give so much more to wave a magic wand and make her instantly better.
   I also know that if she could talk, my mom would tell me to laugh, smile and play.  She wouldn't want me to be missing out on living and in fact is probably feeling like shit herself for thinking that I'm sacrificing for her. I am, but that is just something that you do for someone that you love so very much.  I know that if this situation  instead was myself and MiniLatte, I would tell her to go, live, laugh, play.
     I also have a hard time with the conversations with her- I used to talk to her when I was stressed before and she would tell me that she wished she could be right there with me.  Well, now she is, but she isn't.  Is she thinking that, and it's having a detrimental effect on her emotional well-being? I tell her a story and she cries. She can't tell me why- it breaks my heart. I can't even really talk about the weather.... It's exhausting. What should I do......

Day 38: Jinxed

We have a running joke around our house to not bring attention to the fact that things are going well.... like, "I haven't gotten sick all year...." "I  haven't missed one green light yet," the instant you say it, it happens. The next day you awake with a scratch throat, or you hit the next 10 signals red, red,red.  Jinx.  I jinxed it-  the earlier post about mom doing so well completely went sideways. I recived a call this morning around 8:30- when the 231 prefix comes up it always makes my stomach drop.... and sure enough..... Mom became unresponsive this morning and they called a Code Blue to revive her.  (I hear these every day at the hospital--- it makes me sad especially when the next intercom page is followed by one for a chaplain.) She recived CPR and needed to intubate her yet again- if you're counttingg,  this time makes four.  Back to square one: arterial line; feeding tube;  monitors; back in the Cardiac ICU.  The  diagnosis from today  is that  she aspirated on her own  saliva and began choking; with her already in a precarious condition with her lungs,this caused her to  stop  breathing and then her heart stopped beating.  Fortunatley she didn't have to be shocked..... if there is anything fortunate in this situation. Her lungs are in really  bad shape- from the COPD and pulmonary  edema. For this reason alone, she may not be a candidate for heart surgery, ever.  But they said we'll have to wait out the next 24 to 72 hours.  That must be the standard response as I am having a vivid flashback to March 8th when I  first heard that her condition was grave.  She pulled through that time- I hope that her has the fortitude and heart to do it once again..... and that I can stand by  patiently  watching.  This is so. flipping. hard.  I'm surrounded by a team of very supportive people to help me through this and the only person that I want to go running to right now is my Mom..... so ironic.  I can hear her telling me, "Oh babe, I'm so sorry that you are going through this."  She wasn't really one to offer unsolicited advice but she sure is a great listener. Amazingly so.  She's always been that way.  And offers up a funny one liner in that charming sense of humor of hers to make you laugh and temporarily forget about your troubles.  I wish that I could remember more now to get me through     I am so, so glad that we took MiniLatte  to see her on Thursday. She looked amazing and  un-alarming  so MiniLatte was happy to see her Grandma and vice versa.  A bright spot Im sure.  My intentions are also to reminder her what she has to fight for-- to see this wonderful little girl grow up.  She will get to see that. She has to, I can't imagine my life without my  Mom.     The next few days are going to have some sleepless nights attached to them and I know that  the walk from the parking garage is going to be tortuorously long enough for that enormous lump to  appear in my stomach as I fear what I'm going to walk into......