Oh, the Universe sure does have a way of making jokes on my account. I don't know if I should be thankful or bitter.
Knowing how the Universe works, I think I'll check my bitterness at the door.
The weekend was OK. It wasn't great; I was sick. I had a few rounds of fever and chills, symptoms that came on after I insisted on going out for a few hours when my mom's Home Care Worker had arrived on Saturday.
I had been in all week and really wanted to get out; We went out. Saturday afternoon dates with my husband is something new for us and the thought of missing my date made me feel sicker.
Finally, help has arrived for my mom and indirectly, me. YAY! Life is beginning to transform a bit for us. I am grateful.
My MIL and I never had any more words after Friday's heated explosion. My husband took over mom duty for his mom, doing things for her, things that I usually do for her.
I took care of my mom. I loved not waiting on my MIL. It was liberating. I felt like I had a part of my self back, more time for me.
Sunday morning it was icy. MIL still drives at 87 and always needs to get her Sunday paper. She went to the local supermarket to get a few things for herself, including the papers. On the way in to the store, she wiped out. There were witnesses... she didn't get names. Instead, she got up and went shopping.
She bruised herself pretty good. She didn't call us and drove herself home, barely able to move her arm to drive. All I could think was, "Oh great, your reflexes are already not very good and you are driving without full use of your body?" I kept my mouth shut. I was proud of myself for my silence, even though inside I was ready to have a rupture from holding in my thoughts.
Of course she wouldn't go to the hospital to be checked out. She told me this morning that walking hurts. She can standstill but can't walk without pain. Her arm is also sore with a huge bruise to show where she hit the ground. I coaxed her to call the doctor. She told me that she had to think about it as she said, "You know, if I broke my hip, I'm going to die soon."
My MIL loves to be a martyr and wanting folks to feel sorry for her. She loves attention. I did have a few sweet comebacks for that last remark, but I bit my tongue once more, gave her a look to tell her she is nuts and I walked away.
My husband was ready to take her to the doctor today, all she had to do was call him. My mom and I already were visiting my mom's new Geriatrician today... by the way, I LOVE my mom's new MD. Subject for tomorrow's post.
I got home from my mom's appointment and the supermarket. It was now after 1pm and everyone was hungry, including my MIL>
I found myself in the kitchen, heating food for my MIL. It made me a little mad that I had just pulled her off my back and now she was latched on tighter than before.
I'm still pretty sick. I still don't have much of an appetite and get fevers. I'm exhausted. I want to rest.
My MIL, she finally talked to the doctor and will see a Nurse Practitioner tomorrow at 10:30am. Of course she waited for tomorrow because I could take her to the doctor. She doesn't want my husband to take time off from work. She doesn't care that I am still really sick and need to rest. She sees me up, cooking and care giving and thinks that I'm back up and running like before.... I'm not. I feel like I'm about to drop from exhaustion.
I've got a hacking cough that hurts like mad. The medicine that Dr. Barton gave me is helping, but it's not a miracle cure by any stretch of the imagination. I know that I need to rest because once I get sleep and wake up, I feel pretty good.
So... now I've got myself into a pickle. My MIL assumes that I will drive her tomorrow because my mom is gone all day. It's sort of like when I started working from home 15 years ago; everyone thought I was "home" and available to do things for them or someone else. I wasn't. I was working. Eventually, as the years went by, my home office became sacred territory between the hours of 8am and 6pm.
Tomorrow my mom leaves at 7am. I have been counting the hours for 7am Tuesday morning so that I could lay down and sleep all day. I need my rest. It's the only way I'm going to get better.
I'm sure my husband will take his mom to the doctor tomorrow. He should, it's his mom. I pray that he doesn't have any meetings so that he takes her. I really want to rest... I need my rest.
OK Universe... do you hear me? I need my rest!