The One I Didn't Want to Write: Or the Second Worst Thing...

The phone broke the silence at 1.30 this morning. It is the sound you dread in the early hours of the morning when someone you love is at risk. We were bringing Wise Woman home today. Yes, she was frail. Yes, we had big battles ahead. But we were ready.

And at 1.30am the worst living issue we could face came roaring into reality. She had fallen. At first the garbled message led me to believe she had broken her leg and her kneecap. Jumped in the shower (because I needed to), jumped in the car and DROVE like hell. It is an hour to the hospital and I know the road inside out after seven weeks of daily driving. Once there I tracked her through the hospital from rehab to emergency to ward. And found my fragile, tiny mother swaddled in blankets, scared, in pain, vulnerable. With a fractured hip. Our worst living nightmare due to the state of her bones.

This time I cannot rant and scream at THEM. This time it was a foolish choice by her to pick up something because of her dignity, to put herself at risk due to her pride, to lose the gamble so tragically. I understand why, I know the what for's, as angry as I was at first it has now drizzled down to sadness and compassion.

In the wee hours of first light I sat in my car and sobbed. People walked past watching, understanding, for where else but the carpark of a hospital would we cry so freely? Then I did what she has always taught me. Suck it up, get on with it. WW has always had the belief where there is life there is hope, where there is hope there is no excuse to chuck in the towel. Plenty of time for tears when the battle is lost, never when there is a lull in the gunfire whilst the enemy reloads.

And so I am loaded back up. Placing one foot in front of the other and remembering to breathe. Most of the time. Kick me when I forget. Please.

To Those of You Still Following

And not on my Facebook, this was my status update last night:

Soooo, because I *requested* nursing staff listened to my totally mentally competent mother instead of adversely affecting her physical state YOU, the one who ignored her the night before and insisted on rolling, sliding and injuring her EVEN whilst she begged you not to do it, decided to tell her you would NOT help her at all. Even when she asked for your assistance in a very unpleasant situation?

Well, I hope you are happy. I hope your little power play on a frail 90 year old woman felt good because her MADMOTHER of a daughter has now written a formal complaint. Oh, and those lawyers I mentioned after the first incident? They now have copy of said complaint and are following it through for me. Do not mess with the weak because you never know who stands behind them.



BITCH...

You stupid, stupid woman. Karma may not bite you on the arse but Madmother will.

Those warm and fuzzy feelings.

My oldest amazes me. For a child whose diagnosis means he is not meant to understand empathy, he one of the most loving, perceptive boys I have ever come across. We had an emergency today. Dad and younger son had to dash down the coast with said son's dog bleeding from her mouth. Said dog is also a canine twin to her owner, so wouldn't stop still long enough to ascertain injury. So off they toddled to after hours vet.

Older son and myself stayed behind, and went to help Nanna with a few non-urgent, but critical to a nearly 90 year old, duties. Always when he sees his Nanna he kisses her, tells her how much she is loved, and also how beautiful she is. Not a generic comment, but always detailed. Tonight it was: "Nanna, I love you so much. You always make me smile when I see your happy brown eyes." The one she loved the most was when he told her a few months back: "Nanna, you always make me feel safe and happy. You love me just because I am me." That one nearly reduced her to tears, he makes her feel special and needed. Something every older woman wants, and so important to a once vital, active person who loathes feeling like a burden. Her Grandson provides her with a renewed purpose in life merely by being the caring child he is. He makes me so proud.

Oh, and the manic dog had merely bitten her tongue. Lots of blood but little damage!