Free at Last
I finally have my house back and with that I melted into a deep sleep that would last me 24 hours. When I first agreed to take care of my mother after he surgery, I was sure I was prepared. I mean, how hard could it be to take care of someone after a major surgery who is hopped up on pain killers and sleep aids? I imagined that I would get her placed on the reclining sofa where she would fall asleep in between pill feedings and remain there until I woke her up for a gauze changing? Apparently I was WAY wrong!
The first day I had her home I beat the poor woman up by slamming my head into her nose while we both tried to tend to her wounds. Everyone who had gone thru the procedure had told me she wouldn't want to lay down, that she would be most comfortable in the recliner... not my mum. It took both my husband and I both to push and pull the woman onto our bed and get her tucked in. No sooner did I return to the living room and sit down on the sofa with a drink than I heard a faint yell from the back of my house calling to me. I was in such a state of panic that I threw the drink (missing the table) Hurdled over the still reclining sofa and ran to her bed side. "I think I need to go to the bathroom." Now that I had learned to put her IN a bed, I would have to learn the next step on how to get her out of it.
The husband slept on a hide away bed in the living room which made me feel like I didn't see him for the entire week unless we were working in tandem on something to get my mum comfortable. There were lots up ups and downs, chair to bed, bed to bathroom and back, and My God could that woman snore! Each night I was sleeping only 3 hours at a time. The minute someone would arrive to see my mum, I would fall asleep to try to make up for the time I was up taking care of her. My showering was out of the question, a quick run thru was all I could manage.
My dad kept phoning wanting to know when she could come home but the one time I did pack her up to take her there, he instantly took one look at the job at hand, the pills, the dangling bulbs that needed tending to, and he asked me to take her back to my place. An hour drive for 5 minutes and back in the car she went. I felt a bit bad returning to a house my husband had arranged back to normal and shuffling my mum back in to the sofa where she would remain for another 3-4 days.
I did not mind taking care of her, I love my mum completely but I have come to learn just how much I love the silence that my husband and I live in. I am happy to have my house back. I have phoned a few times now to check in on the parents and see how things are going and I can hear it in my mum's voice that she wishes she were still here- away from my dad and daughter fighting, dad crying over the scars my mum has, and dealing with the drama that comes with their house hold. As for me, I am speeding out on my sofa again, sleeping as the little spoon to my husbands cuddling and having the cat back on my lap when I watch TV. The only thing I am NOT looking forward to is returning to work tomorrow.
The first day I had her home I beat the poor woman up by slamming my head into her nose while we both tried to tend to her wounds. Everyone who had gone thru the procedure had told me she wouldn't want to lay down, that she would be most comfortable in the recliner... not my mum. It took both my husband and I both to push and pull the woman onto our bed and get her tucked in. No sooner did I return to the living room and sit down on the sofa with a drink than I heard a faint yell from the back of my house calling to me. I was in such a state of panic that I threw the drink (missing the table) Hurdled over the still reclining sofa and ran to her bed side. "I think I need to go to the bathroom." Now that I had learned to put her IN a bed, I would have to learn the next step on how to get her out of it.
The husband slept on a hide away bed in the living room which made me feel like I didn't see him for the entire week unless we were working in tandem on something to get my mum comfortable. There were lots up ups and downs, chair to bed, bed to bathroom and back, and My God could that woman snore! Each night I was sleeping only 3 hours at a time. The minute someone would arrive to see my mum, I would fall asleep to try to make up for the time I was up taking care of her. My showering was out of the question, a quick run thru was all I could manage.
My dad kept phoning wanting to know when she could come home but the one time I did pack her up to take her there, he instantly took one look at the job at hand, the pills, the dangling bulbs that needed tending to, and he asked me to take her back to my place. An hour drive for 5 minutes and back in the car she went. I felt a bit bad returning to a house my husband had arranged back to normal and shuffling my mum back in to the sofa where she would remain for another 3-4 days.
I did not mind taking care of her, I love my mum completely but I have come to learn just how much I love the silence that my husband and I live in. I am happy to have my house back. I have phoned a few times now to check in on the parents and see how things are going and I can hear it in my mum's voice that she wishes she were still here- away from my dad and daughter fighting, dad crying over the scars my mum has, and dealing with the drama that comes with their house hold. As for me, I am speeding out on my sofa again, sleeping as the little spoon to my husbands cuddling and having the cat back on my lap when I watch TV. The only thing I am NOT looking forward to is returning to work tomorrow.