Momsy

On the last day of February, my mother slipped at home, fell on her hip, and had to be taken to the emergency room in an ambulance. The x-rays in the emergency room did not reveal a break. But her doctor wanted her admitted for more tests. And indeed, a CAT scan the next morning revealed a hairline fracture.

She stayed in the hospital and underwent physical therapy for a week. She was unable to walk without assistance and then only with considerable hesitation. The doctor recommend more extensive therapy at a convalescent home. A few days later, I was ablt to move her to the home.

Mother does not like hospitals. While she's there, nothing seems right. The food is not good. The medicine is not available when she needs it. Housekeeping does not respond to her request in time. The temperature is too hot.

She found moving to the home very upsetting. But she calmed down and was very pleased with the therapy. Then disaster struck. She pulled a back muscle and immediately was in a lot of pain. The pain medication did not appear to work, so the doctor prescribed a pain patch. The patch was Fentanyl which according to www.streedrugs.com has "an analgesic potency of about 80 times that of morphine."

It relieved the pain, but made her very confused. To the point that she didn't seem to know who I was at times. But last Tuesday, I meet with the care team and explained my concerns. They immediately removed the patch, and by the afternoon I could tell a difference.

The doctor visits once a week, and she was able to see him last week. He then officially removed the patch from the prescription list. By Friday she was doing very well again in therapy. She can now walk with a walker.

Something happened while she was on the pain patch. It's as though some internal wiring in the brain got crossed. She can do certain things that were not a problem in the past, but now she doesn't seem to understand why. In one case, she has learned to do something, but she somehow thinks she can't. I saw something similiar to this after open heart surgery, but it did go away.

I'm slowly learning how to adapt to assuming responsibility for her financial affairs. I think I've got a decent grasp on the subject.

Where I'm having problems is figuring how to comunicate with her. I'll visit to discuss one issue, and we're immediately off on another issue. And I have to watch carefully everthing that's said. Is it part of her issue; or part of mine? I'm also learning not to stay too long, because she gets wound up about the problems of the home. And she is literally making her blood pressure jump.

My emotions have ranged from anger to frustration to anxious to panic to sheer irritation. With every visit, I come away not sure if I've accomplished anything or not.

We talked last night, and we've set a date of May 7 for her to return home. That will present a new set of challenges. But I'm fairly certain I'll be able to deal with them - as long as no one hides the gin bottle.

PAX!