The x-rays on grandma came back okay. They said her finger and ankle are not broken. I don't believe that about the finger though, because when she broke her finger in the hospital during her toe amputation they said the same thing and then when I had it re-x-rayed 2 weeks later there was a break as clear as day. So, I will believe it only in two weeks if grandma is not in pain.
And that voice inside my head said: SHIT!SHIT!SHIT! shitshitshit S H I T !
I really did see this next one coming from a mile away. My phone rang this morning and Natasha was on the other end saying that she would like my grandmother to have a 24 hour a day private (as in paid for by me) aide because of her obvious risk of falling. I told Natasha we could not afford the all day and night private duty nurse on top of the oodles of the money we already pay for grandma to live at the OFH and then I hung my head and cried.
And that voice inside my head said: I really miss my grandma. My grandma is gone. I am taking care of the shell of grandma.
But the truth is that I knew it would come to this when I rescued grandma from the rehab. I knew that she wasn't going to be able to live in the OFH for long. I just hoped that she could go back there for two more kind of good months. I don't know where I got the two months number from. I just made it up. It seemed like if she could be at the OFH for two months then that would be long enough to make it a reasonable stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I was overly optimistic. I only want grandma to have some happiness, even though grandma is gone and the frightened empty shell of grandma can't really be happy any more.
And that voice inside my head just started crying again.
So, not knowing what to do because grandma, who hasn't got a penny to her name, doesn't have medicaid in the garden state, so I called grandma's doctor and I asked her what to do and she said that grandma needed to go to the hospital to get into another rehab and that she could get her hospitalized since she had been acting freaky and swatting the nurses and threatening to punch them and throwing her medicines back at them and other combative stuff like that. I imagine that the doctor is having grandma go in for a psych evaluation, but I was too nauseous at the thought to ask. I just said it would be okay.
And that voice inside my head stopped crying so it could roar. This pains me to the core.
Grandma is in the emergency room right now and soon she'll be admitted for a few days. I am afraid they will give her the same anti psychotic medicine that they gave her the last time and grandma will hallucinate again. That was really scary. Even grandma was scared over that.
And that voice inside my head started praying and begging and bargaining because in a civilized world this can not be the way to age.
Because it seems inhumane to sit around and watch my spunky fresh grandma fade into this frightened angry combative woman. And there is nothing I can do to help her. Comforting her is useless. Meaningless. Done to make me feel like I am helping. There is nothing I can really do.
And that voice inside my head said: Grandma will be fine. She is beyond this world already. And somewhere way deep inside, where I am very quiet and still I know I can get through this. It won't be easy or pretty but it can be done. I can do it. I have to. It is up to me.
And that is my truth.
Matt says: "Mom, you really need to write a song about what you are going through." Guess who wants to be a composer when he grows up.