She was coming home....to die
Every June it starts up again. The anticipation before the 4th. I'm sure others are sick of hearing about it. To be honest, I'm getting worn out with it. It's taxing to be filled with dread over a day I've given power to hurt me because of what happened.
So each day that passes in June, my mind goes back to what happened on this day or that. On June 9, my sisters and I met with an arbitration counselor to get them to help me. That wasn't fun. Mother came too. She could hardly sit up and I know it hurt her to hear us talk about trying to get them to help us. But God knows all. It's in HIS power to judge rightly, so I will leave that to Him.
On June 26, I half-heartedly attempted suicide knowing fully well I wouldn't go through with it. A few days before this Nat had mulpiple seizures and had to be admitted to ICU. It was too much happening all at once and I just couldn't handle it. There was a work related issue that fell through. That was the last straw. Soon it would be a moot point but I had hung on to the hope that getting a day off between 16 hour work days would increase my pay and give me a little more rest. That hope was dashed.
Mother was in the hospital that evening getting IV fluids for dehydration. It was all just too much. I knew it would be soon but had no idea it would be 8 days later. I actualy thought it would happen that night, and I suppose I wanted to beat her to the punch.
July 1 I met with a counselor about my suicide attempt and told her the whole story. It was very therapeutic having someone who actually listened to me and got tears in her eyes for all the pain I was suffering.
Then I went to hospice to make plans to take mother home. The staff were rude for the most part, except for one nurse, a manager believe it or not, named Kathy. She actually listened to me and my concerns and was kind. The Social Worker came in and plopped down. She was rude. She said right there in my mother's presence "Have you had the talk with her?" Meaning have you said goodbye? I spoke harshly to her in response. No idea what I said. But she toned way down when she saw how angry it made me.
Against THEIR wishes (hospice) Mother was coming home! I remember telling her and seeing a gleam in her eye and a slight smile. They'd warned me that she could pass away during transit by EMS. I knew that was a lie. They were just trying to keep her there. I guarantee they only had their bank account in mind, not her wishes.
Still she was coming home! I was for once excited about something. She was finally coming home to me again. I rushed home and started cleaning up for her, getting her bedroom ready and all. A rush of energy.
I was in the middle of vacuuming my bedroom when it hit me. She's coming home....to die. Balloons of hope deflated inside me as the reality settled in on me. But it was still glad she was coming home.
So this makes the 9th year since my dear mother passed away. In a way this year, the approach of the 4th was worse, because there are more situations in my mind surrounding her illness and death that I've allowed to surface, hurtful things that I've kept hidden and refused to face for the past 9 years. This has not been an easy month.
There are those who don't know what to say to you and so they stick their foot in their mouths. They mean well. Or maybe they just mean to mean well, but they don't help. Maybe it's better they say nothing than say the wrong thing. Everybody's hurting in some way. Everyone misses someone for some reason. It's not just me.
I've lost a number of patients this year. I lost one in January, one in February, one in April, and in May I lost the mother of one of my patients. Plus remembering the winter/spring of 2020 when I lost all 3 of my remaining kitties in 7 weeks time, plus Oreo also in April 2018. So much death. I hate it. I absolutely hate it.
When the mother of my patient died, the very next morning after I had left at 8pm the night before, that got to me. She died on Mother's day. I had to take a week off and try to find God. I knew He was near but why couldn't I connect to Him? I tried to fast and pray but didn't get very far along in that. I'm a nervous eater.
Still it was good to not have to wake up to an alarm clock for a week. Aetna had contacted me before the woman died about free 8-week weekly counseling and I agreed. Good thing. By that next week after starting I really needed it. God is good.
I have tons of resources available to me now whereas I didn't even have GOD when my own mother died.
But yes I did. Even though I wasn't aware He was there. Still He was there. Only recently I've realized something. I turned my mother once every 4 hours during the night. At 8pm when I put her to bed, at midnight, again at 4am, then I would get up at 8am. She should have gotten skin breakdown, as thin as she was, but she never did. Every 4 hours was the best I could do. Three times she almost choked to death on her food and I would cry out JESUS HELP!!! And He did. He cleared her airway. I had tried the Heimlich on her but her flat belly was rock solid. He helped me.
He helps us all.
This 4th I asked Him to help me grieve her death, something I was not ready to do in all these years. But now I am.
1 Corinthians 15:26
The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
Amen.
So each day that passes in June, my mind goes back to what happened on this day or that. On June 9, my sisters and I met with an arbitration counselor to get them to help me. That wasn't fun. Mother came too. She could hardly sit up and I know it hurt her to hear us talk about trying to get them to help us. But God knows all. It's in HIS power to judge rightly, so I will leave that to Him.
On June 26, I half-heartedly attempted suicide knowing fully well I wouldn't go through with it. A few days before this Nat had mulpiple seizures and had to be admitted to ICU. It was too much happening all at once and I just couldn't handle it. There was a work related issue that fell through. That was the last straw. Soon it would be a moot point but I had hung on to the hope that getting a day off between 16 hour work days would increase my pay and give me a little more rest. That hope was dashed.
Mother was in the hospital that evening getting IV fluids for dehydration. It was all just too much. I knew it would be soon but had no idea it would be 8 days later. I actualy thought it would happen that night, and I suppose I wanted to beat her to the punch.
July 1 I met with a counselor about my suicide attempt and told her the whole story. It was very therapeutic having someone who actually listened to me and got tears in her eyes for all the pain I was suffering.
Then I went to hospice to make plans to take mother home. The staff were rude for the most part, except for one nurse, a manager believe it or not, named Kathy. She actually listened to me and my concerns and was kind. The Social Worker came in and plopped down. She was rude. She said right there in my mother's presence "Have you had the talk with her?" Meaning have you said goodbye? I spoke harshly to her in response. No idea what I said. But she toned way down when she saw how angry it made me.
Against THEIR wishes (hospice) Mother was coming home! I remember telling her and seeing a gleam in her eye and a slight smile. They'd warned me that she could pass away during transit by EMS. I knew that was a lie. They were just trying to keep her there. I guarantee they only had their bank account in mind, not her wishes.
Still she was coming home! I was for once excited about something. She was finally coming home to me again. I rushed home and started cleaning up for her, getting her bedroom ready and all. A rush of energy.
I was in the middle of vacuuming my bedroom when it hit me. She's coming home....to die. Balloons of hope deflated inside me as the reality settled in on me. But it was still glad she was coming home.
So this makes the 9th year since my dear mother passed away. In a way this year, the approach of the 4th was worse, because there are more situations in my mind surrounding her illness and death that I've allowed to surface, hurtful things that I've kept hidden and refused to face for the past 9 years. This has not been an easy month.
There are those who don't know what to say to you and so they stick their foot in their mouths. They mean well. Or maybe they just mean to mean well, but they don't help. Maybe it's better they say nothing than say the wrong thing. Everybody's hurting in some way. Everyone misses someone for some reason. It's not just me.
I've lost a number of patients this year. I lost one in January, one in February, one in April, and in May I lost the mother of one of my patients. Plus remembering the winter/spring of 2020 when I lost all 3 of my remaining kitties in 7 weeks time, plus Oreo also in April 2018. So much death. I hate it. I absolutely hate it.
When the mother of my patient died, the very next morning after I had left at 8pm the night before, that got to me. She died on Mother's day. I had to take a week off and try to find God. I knew He was near but why couldn't I connect to Him? I tried to fast and pray but didn't get very far along in that. I'm a nervous eater.
Still it was good to not have to wake up to an alarm clock for a week. Aetna had contacted me before the woman died about free 8-week weekly counseling and I agreed. Good thing. By that next week after starting I really needed it. God is good.
I have tons of resources available to me now whereas I didn't even have GOD when my own mother died.
But yes I did. Even though I wasn't aware He was there. Still He was there. Only recently I've realized something. I turned my mother once every 4 hours during the night. At 8pm when I put her to bed, at midnight, again at 4am, then I would get up at 8am. She should have gotten skin breakdown, as thin as she was, but she never did. Every 4 hours was the best I could do. Three times she almost choked to death on her food and I would cry out JESUS HELP!!! And He did. He cleared her airway. I had tried the Heimlich on her but her flat belly was rock solid. He helped me.
He helps us all.
This 4th I asked Him to help me grieve her death, something I was not ready to do in all these years. But now I am.
1 Corinthians 15:26
The last enemy to be destroyed is death.
Amen.