Post From Bothell, WA

July 13, 2009

Seems like I haven’t written in a long, long time. We be fine, although I am dealing with the slow death of a parent, which feels a lot like depression. It’s just hard to clear my mind and get up for much. Mother woke up one morning just before we got up here and had to call for help; she had so much back pain she couldn’t get up. Three days in the hospital and then on to a skilled nursing facility. She has been at this place before and likes it, but of course wants to go home. Her memory is so bad when she calls for pain medicine she can’t remember why she called when the nurse comes in. The pain was unremitting until we were finally able to have a meeting with the facility leaders. We agreed that pain management was the goal and they changed the medication from Oxycodone to a Fentanyl patch which delivers a constant, although fairly low dose. Huge difference. I don’t know why it took three weeks to reach this decision. And why did the family have to make it happen.And this is a GOOD facility. Also at the meeting I managed to convince them that nursing staff cannot take Mother’s word for anything. She will tell you whatever she thinks you want to hear in order to get home. That was a surprise to them because she’s so up-beat and witty.

So the last three weeks have passed in somewhat of a blur. Dave works around the bus here in the driveway at his nephew’s, while I go visit Mother. I’ve started to sew the last couple of days and that feels good. My brother also visits Mother, although we hope he will take some time off from parent duty. The last six months have been really hard.

Our tentative plan is to go to Eastern Washington the end of the month, to do one or two jobs. Then come back here and see how Mother is doing. She’s down to 98 lbs. but neither Steve or I doubt that she can live another year. Unless she falls, and that is a real possibility because being relatively pain free now, she is trying to get up by herself (to prove she’s strong enough to go home) and of course she has no strength. Argghhh!

I’m sure there are lessons here. I can’t tell whether I am resisting them or not. The best I can do right now is realizing this is all part of the journey, mine as well as my Mother’s, and I’m on the road I’m supposed to be on.

With love,

Sam