Yesterday, I was a stranger unto my mother, for most, if not all of our visit. We sang and talked of old times, but there was a strong feeling that much of her conversation was just bluffing, and trying to be congenial...she would have acted much the same no matter who was leading her in talk and song. She is snowballing toward catatonia, and all I can do is watch.

Last week, I spoke gently to one of the girls about calling her "McGoo" This week, the girl over-emphasized (you know, too much, too sweet), "I love you, DORIS!" as she left the room, no angle at the head of mom's bed, no pillows at her knees, mom started at the sudden yell, that I knew was done for my benefit. I was really nice about my talk, too. Told them if it made my mom laugh to call everybody "McGoo," then, by all means, continue it, as there is not enough laughter in this world. But they took offense...I should have known...

I wore my sunglasses into the nursing home to shield my migraine eyes from the light and took them off in Mom's room. I walked Jan to her car, came back & they were gone. I know darn well the sassy little aide has them, but was too weary to make an issue out of it. Sweet janitor kid, Dustin & I tore apart the room looking for them, my mother so confused at what we were doing & looking for...I saw the little aide in the hall getting into an isolation gown on my defeated trudge out & she stopped me to "look at my angel wing necklace." She is "giving one just like it to her mother who is dying of cancer, except hers has a diamond in the tip..." she was trying to deflect guilt...I did not feel up to accusations and denials. I just wanted to go home.

Earlier, our favorite nurse had come in while we were waiting for this aide to come and lay Mom down. Norma lay down on Mom's bed for a minute or two, with tears in her eyes. She told us that she had spent the previous night changing her dying husband's medication from Oxycontin over to Morophine, and that it was no easy task, and finally when she left for work this morning his pain was a 3, which was great news to her. End stage cancer. Pre stage Catatonia. And my mother's room mate shied away from our hugs and greetings for the first time, as did Faye, across the hall. And Rita, the bilateral amputee who is very much together in her head, has just lost her second room mate this year. Depression and withdrawal, abounding with the harvest, depending on how and where you look.

It was a tough day. I cried myself to sleep last night, and when I woke up at 6:30 AM, & could not get back to sleep, I found myself crying again. This does not help a migraine that has been flirting with me the better part of a week, so I am venting, and then, trying to move on.

OOOh Dear God in Heaven! It is so hard! Here is that pain in my heart back again as if it had never begun to heal. Well. I have vented. I cannot dwell. What to do? I know it is contributing to the pounding in my head. I'd go for a drive & waste gas, but that's self defeating. Thursday, I just ran from my sister's car to my MD's office to get some medication they were holding for me & ran back & my head thundered from the minor exertion. You are dog-gone if you do, &
dog-gone, if you don't.( I will call my dogs in here to comfort me, maybe!)

At Jan's interview, they asked her what she would do if Mom died, and Jan was on shift or scheduled to come into work that next morning. Jan told me that she got tears in her eyes and said "I honestly do not know what I would do." I did not tell her that I though they worded the question kindly...it would be more accurate to inquire "What will you do when your mom dies, if you are working here?" Because if Jan gets the job, the rest is inevitable...we never know what we will do, except, I will think I will grieve deeply, and then, try to be busy...and pray, not fall prey to yet another debilitating migraine.