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For first time readers...my journey begins here: THE VERY FIRST BLOG POST (CC1)

Meaning of life

"The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away." ~ Pablo Picasso

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

The Circle of Life - Part 3

The Final Homecoming

Wednesday - February 3, 2010

Wednesday afternoon, medical equipment arrived to mom’s home. In came a wheelchair, an electric hospital bed with air mattress complete with side rails, and a potty chair. Odd there were no linens and I just realized there are none in the house that would properly fit a Twin XL bed. So, we’ll have to make due.

Within an hour mom arrived by ambulance with two burly men. As they attempted to get her into bed, she just sunk to the ground with no strength in her legs to help. Fortunately, they caught her and were able to secure her in her new bed with no harm.

Mom was pretty much out of it and slept until a nurse arrived that evening for “tuck in.” On the first night they often schedule a nurse to guide the family on how to adjust the bed, the usage of a “draft sheet,” and how to administer a bed pan, and change a pee pad.

The embarrassing part was learning how and why woman wipe front to rear and rotating the paper. Women… you know what I mean. Men… don’t ask! It gives a whole new meaning to "Shaken, not stirred!"

With her came a mysterious “emergency kit” that was to be placed in the refrigerator and not opened without permission. It was adorned with security tape. I assume we’re talking some heavy duty drugs here.

I purchased an intercom system from Radio Shack, so I could hear mom when she needs me. It’s very cool and has several ways to use it. It can be a standard Push-to-Talk intercom, it can be set like a baby monitor for constant listening, or it has a VOX capability which is the reason I bought this model.

This is not a cheap setup and works very well for our situation. I would highly recommend it. It can be plugged in, but it’s also compact and has the ability to charge rechargeable batteries, making the portability factor unlimited.

The system stays off until mom says something loud enough to trigger the microphone, sending the message to my intercom. It’s only flaw… it tends to miss the first word. If mother just calls my name alone, it doesn’t seem to trigger. So, I have taught mom to use a full sentence, so I know she needs me. On occasion it will pick up her all too loud TV programs, but there is an adjustment for that. So far, it works great.

Personally I don’t like the monitor function for adults. First, I feel it’s too invasive and second, I really don’t care to hear every thing from a nose being blown to farting! The monitor feature is best used for babies in my opinion.


At 1 AM I hear my first call to duty, “I have to pee!” followed by a series of calls about every 2 hours! They continue throughout the night. OMG!

The next few days we had a Social Worker, a Nurse, a Caregiver, and a Chaplin all visit. I need to install a revolving door! I am promised all kinds of help for both mother and myself.

Mom was a bit upset when the Chaplin spent almost two hours asking everything from what her religion was to what here burial wishes are and then never asked her if she wanted to pray. It seemed more like a business interview to me. She was very hurt. I didn’t even realize it until after he left and mom tearfully brought it to my attention. Shouldn't this have been his main objective? This would be one of many let downs from this hospice group.

I’m beginning to realize this is not going to be easy. I’ve been promised a lot of help and they just need time to get the right matches in place. They say they will find a woman to sit with mom, maybe read to her giving me time to run errands. I hope it’s soon. I’m already exhausted running back and forth with a bed pan! So far, no help for me.

Thursday – February 4, 2010

I ordered mom several sets of high thread count luxury sheets and Egyptian cotton towels along with some quilted washable pee pads. Hospice has provided cheap disposable thin plastic backed pads that aren’t acceptable to me. No expense is spared to pamper my mother.

This could be a long bedridden journey and I want her as comfortable as possible. Mother has always been spoiled in this department. She likes nice things and loves her comfort and luxury items. I’d call her a master shopper. She loves flea markets and has a love of JCPenny. As sick as she is, QVC and HSN dominate her viewing while awake. There was a time she had QVC on speed dial! Mom is a very compulsive shopper. The very reason QVC is in business!

Friday – February 5, 2010

Mom continues to chime like Big Ben, “I gotta pee!” She pees so often, but mostly just a dribble. I ask why she can’t hold it for a few hours and give me one good wiz. She keeps telling me, “The pressure, the pressure, I can’t stand the pressure.” I begin to rate her “work” on a scale of 1 to 10. Most are a 2, but when she does good, we celebrate. We are pretty twisted.

Saturday – February 6, 2010

Mom is resting better. I have called the on-call nurse a few times for advice. They sent out Xanax (Alprazolam) to keep mom calm and help her rest more comfortably. I wanted to know where mine was!!! Fortunately, my doctor has already prescribed my own. One thing I like about Hospice is that the have a 24 hour pharmacy with home delivery, and they even deliver late at night if necessary! Still no help for me. Even my family has failed to help at this point.

Sunday – February 7, 2010

Mom is eating well, not big meals. Today it’s been a bowl of cereal with fresh fruit, a half of a grilled ham and cheese sandwich and a strawberry Boost nutritional drink. Her meals are small, but she is still getting used to solid food again after being fed intravenously in the hospital.

Monday - February 8, 2010

Mom has been very demanding since she has been home. Things like…"I’ll have pancakes.” I didn’t ask what she wanted. It just came out like a demand. “Get me some juice. Cut my muffin and put cream cheese on it”…OK hold on…I’m feeling like a slave. I have absolutely no problem helping her with the things she needs done, but I draw the line when she is fully capable of spreading cream cheese! Don’t treat me like a damn slave! Being deprived of sleep doesn’t help my mood either!

Still no help from anyone! I'm waiting for some help from hospice so I can get groceries. I've asked family. No help there. It's time to get mom's nurse back if I can. I should have done it first thing, but I believed hospice would be giving more help. Bullshit! My family sucks!

Tuesday – February 9, 2010

Mom is doing really well. Still on the bed pan, but looking good and all this time VERY clear headed. For breakfast, she asks for 3 pieces of cinnamon raisin bread (her favorite) with cream cheese, and some juice. I asked if she wanted her teeth (full upper, partial lower) and she declines. She wasn’t feeling well the whole day. By evening she began throwing up. The raisins reappeared whole. I think, “Should have used your teeth!”

6:30 PM
Then the famous words that will be etched into my brain forever, “I gotta pee!” Every time I remove the bed pan, I check her colostomy bag to see if it needs changing. There’s nothing in it. It’s very odd to go all day without anything at all in the bag. In fact I’ve never seen that before.

7:30 PM
One hour later “I gotta pee!” After the routine I check her bag, it’s ready to burst! It is completely full with brown liquid. No solid waste what so ever, just something that looks like strong coffee. I empty the bag and clean her up.

8:30 PM
One hour later, “I gotta pee!” CRAP! Once again the colostomy bag is ready to burst with this brown liquid. I’ve NEVER changed a bag in less than an hour like this before.

9:00PM
One half hour later. I gotta pee!” Same routine, and once again the bag is half full of this brown coffee like liquid. There is something wrong! I called the on-call night nurse and she is dispatched to the house.

10:15PM
Upon arrival she asks for the mysterious “hospice kit.” She opens it up and removes nausea medication and suppositories. Never in my life have I ever used them.

Now I have a dumb question, “If a person has a colostomy bag and they are no longer using the rectum because it’s no longer connected to the digestive system…do suppositories still do their job?” I get a blank stare from the nurse. “Well,” she says, “I’d have to say yes, as long as the blood vessels are intact. Good question.” Hum…

I hold one suppository up to mom’s face and say, “This is called “Brian’s revenge.” Are you going to let me get some sleep tonight?” We all have a good laugh.

I inspect the kit while it’s open. As expected, these are some serious meds including syringes of morphine. The kit is placed back in the fridge and I’m instructed on the administration of the medications given.



1:00AM - 2:00AM - 3:00AM
“I gotta pee!” mom chiming in like Big Ben…every frickin hour! But this time the 3AM call is a bit more entertaining.

Mom roles on her side for me to place the bed pan and the cheap pee pad placed underneath her has crawled up her butt crack. So, I do what any good son would do in this situation…I pull. It didn’t budge.

I make a second attempt with the same result. I steady my foot against the bed rail and give a serious pull and begin to hysterically laugh saying, “Give it back! Give it back!” It evoked memories of my childhood when a playmate would take one of my toys! “Give it back!” and mom begins to laugh so hard and says, “I can’t move my leg!”

With one hard yank out it came and we both had tears in our eyes from the laughter. Mom says. “I never dreamed I’d ever have a tug-o-war with my ass and my son in my lifetime!!”

After I placed a fresh pee pad under her and let her complete her mission, mom rested comfortably. I think the tug-o-war wore her out! I actually got 3 or 4 hours of sleep afterwards. A sheer luxury at this point, until I hear, “I gotta pee!” on my new enemy, the intercom. Whose idea was that damn thing anyway? Anybody wanna play football??!!

PS - Mom is getting the care she needs, but still no help for me!

Wednesday February 10, 2010

Today is bath day. Mom has requested to PLEASE help her out of bed so she can sit up. She has sat up on the side of the bed a few times, but she’s never really comfortable.

After her in bed bath, I change her colostomy bag and the caregiver helps me get her into her wheelchair without much trouble. Things appear to be looking up. Mom has nicknamed her Coochy-Coo because she says that to mom when she bathes her, if mom gets tickled by the wash cloth.

Coochy-Coo strips the bed and places mom’s new heavenly high thread count sheets on her prison of a bed. Now is a good time to trim mom’s hair. So, I get the razor and scissors and clean her up. I ask if she wants to do her nails.

My mother has always had the most naturally beautiful nails, never fake. All women are envious of her nails. Due to recent events they have grown too long and her polish is worn.

She removes the polish and proceeds to file them to a perfect length and shape. When she begins to apply her pretty soft pink polish, she begins to shake and make a mess out of her first attempt. I offer to help her even though I have never done this before.

I used to paint houses for extra money while I was in college. It can’t be that hard, right? I needed to have her set her hand on the tray table while I pressed down firmly to keep her from shaking. I have to admit, I did a damn good job. Mom is really looking good for a change.

Coochy-Coo has to leave and mom asks if she can remain sitting in her wheelchair until the nurse comes in about an hour. That shouldn’t be a problem. Mom is enjoying her freedom, and I can only imagine, she’s feeling very refreshed.

The nurse arrived to the tune of, “I gotta pee!” We get mom off the wheelchair and slide the potty chair underneath. This is the first time she has used a real toilet in 3 weeks!

After the deed was done mom says, “I’m tired. Get me back in bed.” Our attempt failed miserably. With the nurse in front and me in back, we lock arms and try to get mom to dance (rock) herself back to the bed only 2 feet away. Mom begins to yell, “I’m falling! I’m falling!”

“Mom, you’re OK, You’re fine.” I reassure her. I was wrong. Coochy-Coo had put a satin nightgown on mom after her bath and mom slipped right through our arms like a greased pig. Right to the floor she went as the nurse says, “Follow her down and go slowly.” Mom was not hurt.

Now on the hard tiled floor she lays. Unfortunately, she has been in this position quite a few times in the last few years. She’s too heavy for the two of us to lift. We are both less than 130 pounds and mom is 200+ with absolutely NO strength in her legs to help support herself.

I make mom as comfortable as possible. I give her a pillow and cover her to keep warm. Then called EMS and tell them I need non-emergency assistance.

Mom is only complaining that her big toe hurts and the hard floor is uncomfortable on her back. I shore her up with pillows and wait for EMS. It seems EMS does not have anyone to send for a “non emergency” so they call the local fire department for assistance.

The cavalry arrives and mom is now safely back in a fresh luxurious bed with a haircut and newly painted nails. It’s been a rough, but productive day. I think mom has made some progress.

Thursday February 11, 2010

I’m very sick to my stomach without an ounce of energy. I beginning to realize I'm sacrificing my own health as a cancer patient to care for my mother. I thought I would have more help from hospice and family!

Mom is sleeping and pee breaks are about 4 hour intervals. I manage to feed her and get back to bed. I’m exhausted with nothing more to give right now.

I hand mom the phone and beg her to call Grace, her private nurse/caregiver she's had for almost two years. I would have called her sooner, but I believed in the promises from hospice and thought maybe the family would have cared enough to help. I am bitterly angry!

I awake at 8:45 PM. Mom is sleeping as I begin to cook dinner. Feeling a little better and can’t believe I slept the entire day with only a few pee breaks. Mom is a bit out of it. She says “It’s so strange to be so dark at 9 o’clock.

I think she’s joking, but with a few questions I realize, she thinks it’s 9 AM. I know it’s not unusual to get things confused, but this is one of mom’s first tells that something might be wrong.

I begin dinner when mom says…(say it with me)… “I have to pee!” Stir the stir-fry, get the bed pan, stir the stir-fry, then remove the bed pain. (yes I was wearing gloves) We are going through about 2 boxes a week! Clean the bed pan, wash up…oh shit...stir the burning stir-fry.

After dinner mom still looks dazed. I ask a series of questions to check her mental capacity:

Q: What year is it?
A: Two-O-One-O.

Q: Who is the President?
A: Obama

Q: What was your mother’s name?
A: I got no mama!

Q: Huh?
A: I got no mama, Obama!

Q: Stop screwing around! Who am I?
A: The biggest pain in the ass I ever met!

OK she’s fine!

Just to be safe I’ll check her blood pressure…180/165 with a pulse of 149! Holy crap! I take it again. Mom says, “I need to pee.” Ah shit! OK Take the BP again with similar results, get the bed pan, take BP a 3rd time! Still whacked.

I call the 24 hour on-call nurse. I explain the problem and once again explain…I feel there is a problem with mom’s Catapress patch (for blood pressure) Mom has no chest pain, no blurred vision, and does not feel the need to go to the hospital.

The nurse confers with the on-call doctor and returns with…take the Ativan out of the emergency kit, give it to her if her BP spikes again and continue every 6 hours until it adjusts or if you feel she needs to be hospitalized, do so. The on-call doctor also agrees that mom should be put back on her Catapress TTS-3 patch! Finally someone willing to commit to a decision!!!

The new patch was placed and her numbers have normalized with no Ativan administered. Tada! I’m beginning to think I should have been a doctor. Some of it is common sense and knowing the patient’s history.

11:30 PM
One more check on her BP and I’m going to try for more rest. Mom is stabilized with a BP of 146/71 – pulse 63 comfortably watching TV as if nothing is wrong.

OK need some rest…goodnight!

11:57 PM
"My (colostomy) bag is full!” mom announces calmly through the voice box that lay on my bed. Oh CRAP!!!! Literally! Who needs sleep anyway???

2:00AM
IGP!

3:00AM
IGP!

5:30AM
IGP! By this time I’m seeing plaid. I’m so tired. I need help dammit! I can’t see straight and I’m feeling slap happy.

I enter the family room/hospital ward/bedroom singing dramatically to the tune of: I Gotta Be Me. “I gotta pee… I gotta pee…” and mom finishes BIG with, “and if I can’t pee, then you will see, I’ll pee all over me!”

I busted a gut with laughter. This pee run was worth it! By far the most entertaining to date! Yup, we’re a pretty twisted pair for sure.

More to come...

Peace B

Thursday, February 18, 2010

The Circle of Life - Part 2

The Pain

There comes a time when we will all have to make the biggest decision of our life. Not a life altering decision, but a life ending one. When is it time to just stop fighting and let the circle of life come to its close? Will your weary body let you know or perhaps you’ve fought so long that you just want it to end?

You live years with the pain, the doctors, the hospitals and emergency rooms, the endless rehab visits that become longer with each episode…the misery as you watch your life savings spent on nurses, caregivers, and mounds of medications… fighting endlessly with each life prolonging measure. Years upon years of fighting and you are drained beyond all hope. The pain becomes so intense that you finally just want it all to end. It's time to fly with bluebirds over the rainbow.



The BIG Decision

With this last hospital visit my mother has given up her fight. The hospital doctor has suggested hospice (palliative care) and for the very fist time, mother agreed on her own accord. With tears streaming down her cheeks she pleads, “I can’t do this anymore. I just want it to stop.” This has been a decision in the making for 20 years, and now she is ready. Me…not so much.

Typically, hospice will evaluate a patient and decide if they are indeed hospice ready. There is little doubt with mom’s history, she will qualify, and she does. She probably qualified years ago by hospice standards.

February 3, 2010

After two doctors agree, hospice reviews medical records and they feel mom has less than 6 months to live, hospice is ordered. Mom accepts this and preparations are made to bring her home and keep her comfortable until the finale.

These are her wishes. There have been a few times, when she was unable to speak for herself, with Power of Attorney over her, I’ve overridden her DNR (Do Not Resuscitate – No Extreme Measures.) An order set in motion in writing when her Living Trust was formed. This time she speaks for herself, and this time I painfully respect and understand her decision.

There has been no quality of life for many years. Private nurses and caregivers have been her only regular visitors for almost 2 years. She has rarely left her bed for more than a few hours a day, too weak to go anywhere, too many medical complications, and far too many pills artificially keeping her alive and almost pain free, but never fully. She calmly signs the hospice paperwork and I leave to prepare for her final homecoming. My heart aches.

More come...

Peace B

Friday, February 12, 2010

The Circle of Life - Part 1

Medicare and Makin Money

Mom is nearing release from rehab once again. The plan they were enacting was to send mom home and have her return a few times a week for out patient therapy, thus continuing to make them more money by accessing mother’s Medicare benefits. I know this game all too well, I put a stop to it.

If this were to happen, mom would forfeit her home care and only get $1,840, Medicare's limit for out patient therapy. For mom, the home care provision is much more important. This may not be so for everyone.

Upon release from a rehab stay, with doctor’s orders, home care provides her with 2 weeks of in home Occupational Therapy (OT), 2 weeks of in home Physical Therapy (PT), a weekly nursing visit, and a caregiver for bathing and small household chores, twice a week.

On top of that, she is given a home medical monitor that takes her weight, blood pressure, pulse, oxygen level, and asks a series of questions pertaining to how she feels and transmits the vitals back to a health care center and reviewed everyday. She had home care for several months in 2009! I’d say that’s worth more than $1,840. But then I’m not the nursing home/rehab center trying to make a buck. Where do their interests really lie? Just my opinion!!!

In addition to what is provided by Medicare, mom has a private nurse and caregiver that helps with household chores and miscellaneous errands. I feel mom is well cared for, but at great cost. She is still very ill and needs so much assistance, yet her mind is as clear as a bell. She is fully aware of everything. I think this comes from the fact that she reads 3 to 4 novels a week, Nora Roberts being her favorite. She reads so much, it's hard keeping her in books. Aside from the television, this is her primary means of entertainment. What else do you do when you can't leave your bed?

Wednesday 1-27-2010

I’m so excited! I’m on my way to finally bust mom out of rehab! Mom has been in this nursing home since November. She’s finally going home! She has worked very hard to get her strength back over the last few weeks. Mom tells me, “They’re busting my ass!” This was done at my insistence because I was beginning to feel mom was just income for them. She wasn’t being workout like she had on past visits.

From my perspective, this is how it appears: she has Medicare and AARP/United Heath, a supplemental insurance that gives her a combined total of 100 days of fully paid rehab. So, why not take your time and use the full 100 days? Who’s it gonna hurt, right? Let her rest and relax and enjoy the stay. BUT, if she has a second episode after this stay and it’s before the 2 month Medicare reset period, (you need to be out of hospital and rehab for a total of 60 days before Medicare will again pay) she becomes self-pay to the tune of $7,000 a month. Either way, rehab wins. Unfortunately for mom, this has happened many times over the years and the bills are staggering.

Let's Get Sprung!

The rehab center has arranged a home site evaluation to make sure mom will be safe and that all obstacles are out of her way. I picked her up and one of the rehab agents met us at the house. Mom is in a great mood! She’s so happy to be home after 3 months! The evaluation goes well and mom is cleared to be released. She’ll have to go back to the rehab center until all the paperwork is finalized. It could be a few days.

Mom excited to be going home!

I get to keep her home for the day, but she must return before 8 PM. While she’s at home sitting in her recliner smiling from ear to ear, she makes a few phone calls. She calls her sister, who lives in Michigan, and they have a wonderful conversation. She then calls her brother-in-law, “I’m bustin out!” I hear her laugh and explain all her recent events.

Mom is happy and is looking great for a change. Her attitude is positive and she seems excited, but a few hours at home and she’s tired. She’s ready to return to rehab.

That evening, back in rehab, mom begins to experience abdominal pains. She complains to the nurse, but was told, “The stomach flu is going around and you probably just have a touch of that.” Mom feels she might need to go to the hospital and the nurse dismisses that thought.

What a Difference a Day Makes

Thursday 1-28-2010

Mom’s stomach pain is getting worse. She demands to go to the hospital and asks her roommate to witness that she is now demanding to go. My mother NEVER wants to go to the hospital. I sometimes have to beg her. So you know this must be bad!

I get a phone call from rehab, “We are sending your mother to the hospital. Nothing serious, but just to be safe, we’re sending her as a non-emergency." She was ready to be released. She was fine yesterday. What happened? I'm assured it was just precautionary.

I’ve been down this road too many times before, so I wait one half hour and head for the hospital. Small problem…mom’s not there. I called the rehab center and ask if she has left the facility. She has and she’s now missing! WTF?

After an hour of phone calls and research trying to track her down, I was informed she was sent to the hospital I was standing in, but the emergency room was overflowing and they closed it, diverting all new patients to the next closest hospital. Does Costco sell Xanax by the case???

Mom has never been to this new hospital. In fact, I had never even heard of it before. When I arrived, I insist on seeing my mother. They tell me she’s not here. After I let off a few F-bombs she miraculously appears in the emergency ward barely able to speak, eyes rolled back in her head, moaning in excruciating pain, now on heavy morphine, with slurred speech.

The doctor explains that she has an intestinal blockage. This is her third in the last 4 years. It all began 20 years ago when she had diverticulitis and her colon ruptured. Since that time, she has lived with a colostomy bag. She has never been a candidate for a reversal due to everything else wrong with her, mostly due to her COPD and CHF. She almost died from this event, but after being kept alive on a ventilator for several weeks, she survived. We come from tough stock!

To make matters worse, she has a double hiatal hernia that has slowly emerged over the years. During her last emergency, it was explained that the ball outside of her belly that appears to be a basketball, (she looks pregnant) is actually a mass of muscle, skin, and intestines all intertwined. As the muscle and skin tissue grows, it will continue to squeeze and cut off the passage of her bowel. Surgery is not an option.

Even though the emergency room doctor has diagnosed the problem very quickly, I’m worried because she has never been admitted to this hospital and these doctors don’t know her complicated case history. Sure, records can be ordered and reviewed, but that takes time and is subject to interpretation.

Her Last Words?

Mom is barely able to speak at this point, but she’s strong enough and angry enough to tell me how rehab blew her off saying she had the stomach flu and how she had to beg and finally demand to be taken to the hospital.

Now I’m enraged! This is a woman with a colostomy, a history of intestinal blockages, a double hiatal hernia, and now green liquid bile fills her colostomy bag, a tell tale sign of a blockage or intestinal problem...and they dismiss it foolishly as the stomach flu, sending her to the hospital with a non-emergency status!

Mom will spend the next week, once again, fighting for her life!

Another Battle Begins

More to come...

Peace B

***To the best of my knowledge the Medicare information is correct. I am not an expert. Please consult your Medicare guide for clarification and which services are best for your individual needs.

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

Updates

Leaving on a Jet Plane



The last few months have been a whirl wind of events. After spending Thanksgiving in Detroit, I arrived home for a very short period. Soon I found myself back in the air, on my way to MD Anderson for a complete check-up and to have cataract surgery in my left eye. My right was done over 2 years ago, just after my cancer surgery. I’ve never been happy with the result, so I’ve put this off. I figured it’s time to just do it and get it over with.

With anxiety running high, I always find myself stressed when it comes to these regular check-ups. My mind twirls. Has my cancer returned? What will I do if it does? Should I begin to mentally prepare for more surgery? Maybe the cancer has traveled. Take a Xanax...ahhh all better!

After all my tests (CT, X-rays, and blood work) all was looking well. I was just too tired to report in at the time. My white cell counts are normalizing, but my red counts are still low. My eye surgery was scheduled for the next morning and I had already been seen by the anesthesiologist.

It was now time to see my dear friend and surgeon, Dr. Stella Kim. The staff ran me through a battery of eye tests. Then we did the same ones all over again. I assumed they were just being thorough. After a few hours of this, Dr. Kim entered with her sweet demeanor and said, “Sweetie, I have some not so good news. I am unable to perform your eye surgery. Going by your results, insurance won’t pay for it.”

OK, now I’m puzzled. What is the problem? It seems that my vision in my left eye, which was 20/80 in 2007, is now 20/30. After two years of recovery my vision no longer qualifies for cataract surgery to be paid by insurance. A script for glasses is plan of action. But, I have to ask…Is this normal? I guess it’s a good thing, but sounds odd to me. Can your eyesight actually get that much better with time??

With my trip to Houston cut short and Christmas only a few weeks away, I thought I would continue the road trip and travel on to visit my mom for the holidays. She was again in a rehab facility, but I was told I could break her out for Christmas! Poor mom has spent her last 3 Christmases and birthdays in rehab or hospital.

With the Rain Comes a Storm

Upon my arrival, mom had the flu and I was not allowed to take her home and Christmas was once again a bust for mom. She lost all her momentum and was basically back to square one on her rehab progress due to the set back, a month of rehab down the drain.

I’m also beginning to suspect that this rehab facility, which once worked miracles on mom, was beginning to lose its effectiveness. There has been a major turnover in staff and I have to admit I’m not happy with what I am witnessing. The place has gone down hill. Mom spent all of last month trying to recover. A bit brokenhearted, I returned home to wait for her release.

I’m exhausted, I know I’m pushing myself too much and I’m trying not to give into the fact that my body is drained, coupled with pain in my jaw causing me trouble. For this reason I have not been very active on my blog. I have been preparing for mom’s release and when I catch you all up, you’re going to be surprised at the outcome. When I find more energy I will fill you all in on "The Circle of Life.”

Thank you for all for your emails and phone calls with your concerns.

Peace B

Words To Live By:

"The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service to others." -Mahatma Gandhi