| ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- prepare for the worst I still don't really have the words right now but I'm making a lot of notes in notebooks and in my phone, trying to grasp at all the thoughts weighing me down, some heavier than others. I cannot decide which is worse, the thought of losing her or the regrets I have over what a shitty daughter I've been. Life has changed so much in less than two weeks. Yesterday my brother (the youngest) and I toured three facilities with my mother. The doctors have recommended assistant living—a place that has both a memory care unit and offers hospice—and want her there by the end of March. If I allow myself to read up on this on the internet then I see that in likelihood she doesn't have more than two years. And two years would be a blessing. But, we're finally meeting with an oncologist tomorrow to discuss the lung and adrenal gland mass. Maybe the outlook will improve. Maybe, maybe not, it's just one foot in front of the other. "I like to prepare for the worst," my mother told the executive director at one of the facilities. "That way I can handle anything else that happens." I use that phrase all the time but only now realize that I got it from her. 2:05 pm - 24.02.19
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on grief, hairdryers and dinner plates - 07.04.19 - 3:33 pm the woefully short of it - 01.04.19 - 10:17 pm settling into a routine - 25.03.19 - 10:06 am i'm never smart about these things - 06.03.19 - 7:56 pm long story short - 05.03.19 - 9:01 pm |
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