Changing Expectations

Yesterday, after the boys' Saturday morning basketball games, I was in my truck preparing to head down to my mom's place when my cell phone rang.  It was Alisha, a nurse at NHC Place, calling to let me know that one of the caregivers had found my mom on the floor by her lift chair, sleeping, that morning about 6 a.m.  Unlike how I reacted in a similar situation several months ago when my mom was at Maristone, I took the news in stride.

Most likely, she slid out of the chair during the night and simply didn't have the strength to stand up without assistance.  The concern, of course, is that she might have been on the floor for several hours.  The staff is supposed to check on the residents every one to two hours, so I'm allowing myself to believe that she hadn't been there that long.  Considering the alternative - that my mom had laid in the floor for several hours - makes me want to cry.  That much hasn't changed.

What has changed, though, are my expectations and what I'm willing and able to accept as the new normal with my mom.  Although that in and of itself is kind of sad, it's probably healthy from an emotional standpoint.  On some level, in a way, I've moved into the acceptance phase of what my mom's life - and ours - will be like from this point moving forward.  It's kind of zen, I suppose.

Now, I don't aways feel that way.  I still get upset and angry over the injustice of it all.  For her and for us, her children and especially her grandchildren.  I still can't bring myself to go back to church, which is a problem.  But I think I'm managing my emotions better, at least most of the time, anyway.  Or, alternatively, maybe I'm just growing numb - emotionally - to the whole situation.

I've been running more lately, which over the years has helped me maintain my equilibrium during difficult or stressful times.  That might be part of it, I guess.  It's my favorite month of the year, too - December - toward the end my favorite time of the year - October 1 - January 2.  I'll probably fall into a deep winter depression after the holidays are over.

I may have written this before, but the thing I miss the most is not being able to call my mom on the way to work and on the way home from work.  I used to always telephone her during my 30 minute drive, just to check in and discuss the day's events in my life, the sports world or worldwide.  I miss those talks the were about nothing and everything.  I also miss her unequivocal support in those telephone calls, when I'd had a bad day or something was troubling me.  I miss that a lot.

All right, enough for this morning.  I've had my Sunday morning coffee at Frothy Monkey and it's time to head down to see my mom.