Friday, May 24, 2019
As I said in my previous post, I stopped in to see mom on Wednesday. I usually stop in a couple of times a week, the senior's residence is actually on my way home so it's easy for me to drop in. Sometimes I stay for only an hour or so, sometimes I stay until bedtime. I am pleased to see that mom has been getting her strength back. She had to be prescribed medication for seizures and that took away all her energy. Now however she likes to walk up and down the hallways and it's good to see her up and about again. She is also generally in a good mood lately, the workers say she always seems happy and is easy to work with, that's all I can ask for, that she is happy in her reality.
I let her walk, I just followed her around and we talked, sometimes it made sense, most times it didn't. There was one hallway on her floor that I have never been down. I asked her to walk down it with me. Mom said, "no, we shouldn't go down there, it's not good to go there". I found that odd because every hallway looks new to her no matter how recently she has walked down it so usually she will check it out, also odd because her answers are usually not so elaborate.
I walked down it anyway and I suddenly regretted my decision. This was where they put the people who have lost every last bit of their humanity. The rooms have those half doors like at racehorse stables. This way staff can look in but the people can't get out. Most are in wheelchairs, they no longer walk, they no longer talk, they no longer look human. They are frightened, eyes wide with fear and they plead for your attention at their door, in a language that makes sense to only them.
As bad as mom is now, a chill went down my spine when I realized that there is worse coming, much worse. That's why I say I won't be too sad if she were to suddenly pass away. Sometimes I think selfishly that I hope she passes away before she completely forgets who I am. My little mind has these visions of me telling people at her funeral, how the disease couldn't erase the bond between us.
After yesterday however, I hope she never reaches that stage and it has nothing to do with me. I don't want mom to become a frightened infant locked in a room, holding her hands out... pleading to passing strangers. No matter how sick mom is, she still was frightened by that hallway, at some level she understands what it means to be moved there.
It seems that our destination with mom's illness is "worse" because no matter how many times we think it couldn't get much "worse", it seems to top itself.