My Mom was discharged from the Rehab center this Saturday. We weren't even sure if they were going to let her go because she fell the day before in the bathroom. She was sent to have a CT scan to make sure she was ok and she was.  The really bad thing is they didn't call anyone!  They didn't call any of her family! She had fallen in the morning and I got there hours later and I just happened to find out because they came to take her to get scanned while I was there.  They wouldn't have said anything to any of us.  The more I thought about it more angry I became,b ut I didn't know who to speak to because the case worker "wasn't in" when attempts to speak with her were made.  I think we were all just glad she was getting out of there.  When we finally got all her things together and were ready to take her home no staff members accompanied us to the car.  They barely even said goodbye.  I asked myself if Mom was a difficult patient or if these people were just heartless assholes.  Some of the staff were really sweet and seemed to have bonded with my Mom, while others pretended she didn't exist.  I think someone there was unkind to her because when I came back to see her the evening before she was released she cried like a little child when she saw me.  She just wanted to go home to much.  I have had my doubts and misgivings about taking care of my Mom, wondering if I can even do it, but seeing my Mom looking so helpless broke my heart and no matter what happens I'm going to try my best to help her.  I just hope she gets a little stronger before we move in together. I helped her bathe that afternoon when we got her settled into my brother's house.  I also helped her go to the bathroom and helped her dress.  She's going to need a lot of help untill she gets her strength back. I feel a bit uneasy thinking of her living with my brother.  Last night he was wanting to make her take a shower, she doesn't need a shower everyday at this point; it's cold and she's not sweating so let her be.  He's also not the one who would be helping her take a shower.  I just hope he doesn't push her too hard and she gets too tired or discouraged and then gives up.

My Dad died Oct 27, 2010. He had been "fighting" cancer for about three years. I say "fighting" because after being diagnoses in 2008 he immediately underwent agressive radiaton treatments augmented by chemo therapy and a third treatment called bio therapy. The tumor, located in his right salivary gland shrank rapidly. He was responding very well to the treatments. Then in Janurary of 2009, the day my son was born, the right side of his face bgan to sag and have signs of paralysis. A follow up with his oncologists and a CT scan revealed that the tumor had returned. That particular team of oncologists were radiation specialists and told him they could not do anymore for him, becasue the himan body can take only so much exposure to radiation and he had had his limit. I need to back up and explain about the type of cancer he had.  He had what is called Squamous Cell Carcinoma of the Perotid Gland. it is common in middle aged men, is very fast growing and always comes back and only with agressive treatment is there a chance of prolonged life which is at best only 10 years because it always comes back and kills it's victim.  My Dad and my Mom never bothered to research this disease, they had no idea what they were up against and blindly trusted in the doctors. They had no idea what was going to happen next.  The tumor grew and grew, the right side of my Dad's face became worse and worse making it difficult for him to speak.  Early in 2010 he lost his hearing, by midyear he had double vision.  Through out this deterioration, he continued to force feed himself high protein shakes and vegatable juice - he had not felt hungry in over a year.  All of this is very horrible, but he still made great effort to be involved with the things that were important to him.  My Dad was a minister, he had not had a congregation for many years, but still felt a calling. He lead a Bible study and went to prayer meetings regularly, he evern tried to start a home church. He did not spend time with his children, when we came over he would go to his room and shut the door. My Mom explained that we wore him out. It was very hard to see him slowly dying in front of my eyes, but to not even get to spend little time that I knew was left was heartbreaking.  Finally in late September my Dad wanted to go back to the hospital. He had lost the ability to swallow and wanted a G-tube so he could continue to feed himself.  He was admitted to the hospital and stayed for a week. They put in a pic-line because they were going to begin a type of chemotherapy that only had a 30% chance of stopping the growth of the tumor, not shrink it, just stop it. My Dad wanted to proceed.  I also need to mention that he had no health insurance so all of this would have to be paid in full.  He was discharged and an appointment for chemo was made.  A week later my Dad had fallen and my Mom was unable to help him up.  My brothers came to the house to help him.  One of them carried him like a small child to the toilet to go to the bathroom and what came out was deeply disturbing to him - coffee gounds!  A relative of ours happened to be in town that day who worked for Hospice and came to see my Dad and finally talked my Mom into getting him set up with Hospice home care.  That night he threw up what looked like coffee grounds and the on call nurse came and immediately had him transfered to the local Hospice facility.  He had been force feeding himself and since his body was shutting down the stuff rotted in his gut making him bleed and it eventually had to come out.  The tumor was visible to the naked eye, it was behind his right ear and it could also be seen when looking inside his ear.  It bled very easily, spotaneously and I was told that he would not starve to death or choke to death, he would bleed to death.  That's exactly what happened.  The tumor began to bleed on the inside of his throat and 3 days after the bleeding started, he died.  I wish I could say that he died peacfully and with loving words spoken to his family, but this didn't happen.  He was angry with my Mom becase she wouldn't feed him anymore because every time he was given something in his Gtube it would immediately come back up and he would start to choke.  He thought she was trying to starve him to death.  He also just wanted to sleep and didn't like it when we all came to see him so he was sedated.  When I got the call that he was gone I went straight there, I wish I never saw his dead body.  His body looked like a wax sculpture and it was frozen in a look of troubled sleep.
He died October 27, 2010 he was buried the following Tuesday.  He left no will, no money with which to bury him and so my siblings paid for his plot and the casket to put him in. 
My Mother seemed to be in some strange bubble this whole time, I think she didn't think it was really happening to her. The next Monday was the first time she was going home from work knowing that my Dad was never going to be there again and she cried the whole way home. Then later that night she cried herself to sleep. She woke in the middle of the night with chest pains and called a friend for advice, they told her to call 911.  She finally did and had in fact had a heart attack. It was also discovered that she is diabetic and had been for some time along with being hypertensive.  She had a heart catheterization - which looks for blockages that caused the heart attack and what was found was staggering.  She had 80% blockages in all her major vessels - it was a miracle she was even alive.  She had to have bipass surgery ASAP.  The cardioplogists wanted to do it the following week, but she said she needed to gets some things in order before that happened.  So 2 weeks later she had the bipass surgery and they ended up doing 5 bipasses. Five! I am the only one not working and so it was decided I would be the one to be with her once she got out of the hospital - the one to drive her around since she would not be allowed to drive, the one to do the chores around the house, the heavy lifting etc.  Well she still hasn't come home.  She had her surgery a few days after Thanksgiving and she is still not home! After she came out of surgery she was taken to the Critical Intensive Care Unit (CICU) and she had what was later diagnoses as a shower of emboli, she forgot where she was and her words were incoherent what is termed "word salad".  I stayed with her that whole night because she was in danger of not making it through the night.  She made it and began to recover when she had another one.  She recovered from that one and then a few days later she had a stroke.  Her left side was weak and her eyesight was damaged. She was finally stablized and then came the big fight to get her to eat enough food every day so that she could be moved from teh CICU and then later sent to Rehad for intense physical therapy, occupational therapy and cognitive therapy.  She is there now and will be discharged next week.  She has regained her ability to walk, the ability to go to the bathroom on her own and to bathe and dress with minimal assistance.  However she cannot live on her own, nor will she ever be likely to.  So then came the big question: what's going to happen to Mom?  I have 4 brothers and a sister.  My sister live in another state, two brothers are married and have homes, but one is too small and the other has an upstairs. My husband and I are saving up for a house and my other two brothers don't have the means to care for her either.  So what are we going to do with Mom?  We all asked this and looked at the options.  Put her in a home? No! That would be a fate worse than death to her! What then?  The answer was right in front of us.  Move into her house and take care of her.  So that's what's going to happen.  My husband and I are subletting our appartment and moving into my Mom's house. It's not really a house, it's a trailer, a really big one, but we're not buying it nor are we going to be paying rent there.  If it works out, my Mom's Social Security benefits will pay for most of the rent and my older siblings have agreed to pay the rest of it while my husband takes care of utilities and phone and internet and food expenses. We will be able to save even more money toward buying a house and then my Mom will live with us and my borthers can sell her place.  I will of course be taking care of my Mom.  She will need lots of help and encouragement and I'm willing to do it. I am also scared shitless! I have a little boy who is turning 2 in just a few days and I'm also 8 weeks pregnant with our second child.  I also went back to therapy after my Dad died and I found out my Mom was having bipass surgery.  I was taking antidepressants, but have chosen to stop taking them during my pregnancy to reduce the risk of harming my unborn baby.  So this is the big adventure I'm getting myself ready for.  A big move, taking care of my Mom, raising a toddler, and taking care of myself while I grow a baby. Oh and did I mention that I'm going to have a home birth?  Yes I am crazy! I am crazy, but I feel that I am doing the right thing and it will all work out, right?  So this is my blog.  I'm sure I'll be whining and complaining, but I also hope that there will be happy moments to record as well.