(there’s nothing as irritating as typing out a journal entry only to have the computer or connection fail before one posts)
As I was saying.
Mom seemed better this morning, which in an unwelcome fashion let loose a flood of questions and bad thoughts. Namely, if she pulls through now, are all of yesterday’s grieving and decisions premature. Dad has driven here to support my brother and I, I cancelled my plane reservation, told work I won’t be in this week, and have called friends to try and juggle pet sitting responsibilities. Somehow it seems that it would all be for naught should she live, and of that thought I’m not proud.
The bad thoughts tap my shoulder and whisper, “Enough, we’re tired, let this be over.”
The hospice nurse came by and after checking Mom out spoke to the rest of us. It’s too soon to say, she said. Although Mom does have some of the signs of dying, (i.e. lower blood pressure, high pulse, irregular heartbeat and breathing), there is a possibility she could beat the pneumonia and stabilize. Or she might not. The nurse seemed surprisingly confident that we should know by tomorrow. I guess she sees plenty, in her line of work.
It’s taking too much effort to type without mistakes. It’s late.