A call from my mom's facility. My mom fell and scraped her back. She was disoriented, she was coughing. I know the cough, it's allergies. It isn't usually until spring, but it's January, and I have a sunflower blooming in my yard. Everything's blooming. An unusually mild winter. I'm sneezing nonstop and my mom coughs.
The facility was really worried about the cough and said I needed to take her in. Not so concerned about the fall. But she started complaining about pain, and soon was unable to move without pain.
I called 911 and she took an ambulance ride down the street a few blocks to the hospital. We spent 6 hours in the ER and the diagnosis.....
a broken back.
The doctor stuck his head in the door, and told me that, and that he would be back in a minute. That minute turned into more than an hour. During that time I was bawling, and telling my mom I was sorry it was ending this way, but there's not much you can do when you have fragile bones, and you're 93.
Then he comes back and says there is a tiny crack in one vertebra. No surgery. No sign of any other break. So. In the space of an hour, we're back to hope. She started sitting up. Today when I came she WALKED toward me. She said there isn't a lot of pain. Ok then. No funeral. Not yet.
SHE is NOT DONE YET
There is a certain amount of adventure with dementia. Today my mom asked me why I was cheating on my husband. ????? No mama, we're good. Remember, he sat with us all day yesterday. Oh yes that's right.
Back to creating? I hope so. Later today, maybe tomorrow. My mind is frazzled. Maybe some abstract something with a lot of color. Hmm.
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