Mom has no concept of time and to her each day in the nursing home probably feels like an eternity. I get it, but for me life looks a lot different and time is passing. I am recovering from being at the bottom, and although there is progress (thank God), it is slow to gain my strengths back. I filed for my unemployment yesterday and it looks like it was already approved, which means that I have to look for a job now. That’s gonna throw a major wrench into things and the time I need on the personal front such as clearing a life of 30 years, a house and getting it ready to be put up on the market, in the hopes of selling and getting out from underneath it.
Talking to her yesterday, I could tell that something was bothering her. Her facial lines were hard and it didn’t take all that long for the issue to surface and vocalize. Today was not any different and she was still consumed with what happened. She couldn’t let go and finally it all escalated during our conversation.
She tells me that her doctor was there to draw blood etc. and asked for her insurance card. Her card is kept downstairs in the office (I’m not sure if it’s the same with everyone) in case of an emergency or if she needs to be admitted into the hospital. It’s merely so they have her information on file, but explain this to Mom who for as long as she remembers always had the card in her wallet and doesn’t understand why it was ripped out of her hands (literally) from one of the nurses who has zero personality, (a total other issue), and why it was not given back to her. I tried many of times to explain it to her, and sometimes it works and she calms down, other times she doesn’t. Anyways, her doctor asks for her insurance card knowing darn well that it is kept downstairs and rallies her up for no reason at all. I have seen him do it before and there is simply no need for it. It’s the same doctor that rather talked about US politics, and the president to me as I came to his office in a frantic attempt to prevent Mom from coming home after a hospital stay. The one who told me to turn Mom over to the state and maybe that will make her wake up. Yeah that one. You might remember that post and I have no respect for him due to the things he has pulled. Now that, and the information about her insurance is the same as always, hasn’t changed, as a matter of fact he has it on file and knows it’s kept downstairs, so why? I don’t get it and it makes her relive those moments all over again that she is simply not in control over her life anymore. Why put her through it, standing there and smirking like an idiot about her response. I remember the first time. That’s a doctor. Also the same that couldn’t care less about me as I needed help. It is scary to Mom to not be in control anymore, it requires adjustment, as it would be for anyone. He doesn’t care.
It turns into a big deal until the nursing home shows her paperwork of which I signed that apparently says that it is ok to hold on to the card for safe keeping. She doesn’t understand and I better not sign anything else for her or else. Here we go and now she is mad at me and I’m the scapegoat. Just that quick and no matter what I do good and right, it never is enough and I’m caught in the middle of an unbelievable battle that can’t be won. “You better come back and get me out of the nursing home because I DO NOT want to stay here” she says. It’s now all my fault that she is there and heaven forbid she finds out that this is not the only paperwork I have signed and that I truly have committed her. Perhaps it will be the end of our relationship and she will never talk to me again. I don’t think she would ever understand. At this point in our conversation, I’m choosing my words very carefully because she has already reminded me that I wouldn’t behave this way if my father was alive. Do we really have to go there again?
Mom lives in an unrealistic world and she has no concept of anything. Even if I was to return to Germany, this wouldn’t happen for months, and I’m not sure what she is thinking. I told her I’ve been very sick from all of this, but she is too scared about her own situation to even acknowledge mine. It doesn’t matter. Is one life truly more important then the other!!!! I’m all she has and she seems to not have a problem to place the entire burden into my lap. “At least you are free and can leave whenever you want to” she tells me. “There is nothing wrong with me, except I can’t walk” she says. “Wouldn’t you not think that this is major deal and enough to justify that you can’t take care of yourself anymore” I ask in reply.
We finally end the call and say our goodbyes on good terms, but I can only imagine. This one could have been avoided I feel, but soon or later, I know she will get angry with me and might not talk anymore. Perhaps she feels like this already at times, but knows she can’t really afford to. I already dread that day and honestly had hoped it would take a little longer until we got to this part. Hopefully tomorrow is a new day and a better one at that.