Cry

Last Sunday I wrote about Mom feeling pitiful. Today was something totally different.

She's tired. So tired. Mom napped in bed after having breakfast by the front window. She napped after lunch in the big red chair in front of the fire. Then she napped in bed after waking up in the red chair and needing a change.

During the aforementioned mid-nap change, Mom accidentally pulled on her catheter. It is colder today, so Mom had requested her fleece jammie top and pants. The substitute shower aide had threaded the catheter down through her pants leg. Mom hasn't worn pants with her catheter since that first one that malfunctioned (hmmm...connection?). She had pulled down her jammie pants in bed while I went for a tub of warm water and paper towels (her preferred kind of "wipes") and was stretching the tubing. Mom knew something was stinging, but didn't know she was pulling her cath until I came back and helped her.

She was concerned she had messed up the catheter and I told her I didn't know, we would have to wait and see. She thought she ought to take her jammie pants off because she didn't think she could remember not to pull them down without me. She said, "I forget things." I assured her we could work it out and that if the catheter was messed up, we could see the weekend nurse Mary.

Then Mom had to endure a scrub down to get her skin clean from the dirty diaper and I think it was all too much. She made a little whimper as she lay back in bed and I asked what was wrong. She said in her teary voice, "I just want to go." And then she sobbed and sobbed.

I have never seen my mom wracked with emotion. Ever.

I helplessly patted her hand and murmured things like, "I know you do, Mama," and "I'm sorry, Mama." What else is there to say?

In a few moments, Mom was back to her stoic self. She wanted to be covered with her sheet and blanket. She wanted her rice bag heated. She said apologetically, "It just overcomes me sometimes."

Me too, Mama. Me too.