Priceless.

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Have I mentioned lately how tired I am? Been leaving the house at 8:00 a.m. most days and not coming home till after 8:00 p.m. Left the house later than that on the weekend, but came home later too.

My mom is a trip and a half.

Did you know that if an elderly person has an infection - say - a urinary tract infection - or is dehydrated - it can send them into a very confused state? I sure as hell didn't, and all of a sudden I thought my mom must have had a stroke or we were in the middle of a Colombo episode and pretty soon a scruffy little man in a rumpled overcoat was going to come in and start investigating the boogie men that were surrounding us. Er . . . her. I didn't think there were any boogie men but boy I was hoping somebody would tell me who they were and what they were doing in my mom's room!

That hospital Mom was in before? Still as nice as I remember but boy it gets old after a while. Especially when you spend almost a whole 4 day weekend in it. And when you have one admin person, one aide, one nurse one doctor and one Episcopalian Minister ask if you have a DNR on file, you start getting really nervous.

Several blood tests and CT scans later, hydration and antibiotics and Mom is back at the nursing home with a bit of color in her cheeks eating Jell-O and speaking in full sentences again.

There was a point when I had to ask the doctor if she was trying to tell me that my mom didn't have much time left and she answered "Yes. Let me say it will happen sooner than later."

So really, what the HELL does THAT mean?

Apparently didn't mean much to my mom because she's as clear headed as I've seen her in a long while and enjoying her iPhone. Okay yes I admit it, I got her one. It was worth the expense for several reasons but one in particular. Mom's emphysema is pretty advanced. Any exertion sends her into a breathing episode which is exacerbated by the anxiety she feels when she cannot breathe. Medical staff on hand was quite surprised when Mom was struggling so badly and I stepped in and handed her the iPhone - telling her "here Mom, delete the pictures."

I kid you not, she LOVES to delete pictures from the phone. So I go around taking pictures of everything and anything and nothing at all, just to pile up a hundred photos or so, so she can delete them when she is trying to breathe. And as she flicks from one picture to the next, deleting some and moving past others, her breathing slowly becomes less labored and ragged, and finally comes to a point of calm. She continues to delete the pictures until eventually they are gone and she is past her episode. It works. Every. Time!

Worth every penny, I tell ya!




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