Air. I need Air.
Take me to one of those Oxygen Bars and hook me up - give me the Platinum Level product and place the mask over my face. I can't inhale, it hurts. I need Airway Apparatus.
My mother is covered with blood bruises from head to toe. Some are the size of a pancake. They are bright purple red and puffy with flaking skin all around. The worst ones go all the way up her arms. We were just applying new bandages and a piece of skin the size of a half dollar lifted off and blood gushed out. It went everywhere: The (new) bed, down her legs, on the carpet and all over my hands. She didn't cry, but I am. I'm not sure I've Got What It Takes to do this. How does one just stand by and watch their mother literally fall apart?
Mom's down to 83lbs again, and the only reason she got out of bed today is because I'm home sick. She refused to eat anything other than a wedge of cantaloupe. Clearly, I am going to have to hire someone to come in during the day to help her. She cannot stay here alone.
I'm feeling sorry for her, I'm feeling sorry for myself. They say that when you take care of a dying parent, you never regret the time spent with them through to the end. I do believe that to be true. I also believe that I will be wounded from this for a long time. I'll have to deal with that as it comes. Today, my only goal is to keep breathing.
posted by jill # 1:21 PM
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