Two weeks ago today, I went to my mom’s house to meet a caretaker and an oxygen supply person to arrange increased in-home support for her. Mom had declined since I had last seen her, two days before, and didn’t look good, so I stayed with her that night. She was worse the next morning so we went to the hospital. She didn’t come home again, but I know she is home. I am muddling through my days right now but am functional, if only at half speed. I miss her deeply.
Patients, co-workers, and friends have been wonderful. I have received many comforting cards and calls and hugs, all of which help to keep me moving. I am spending more time just talking to patients about their fears and concerns regarding their illnesses. I need to find a way to continue doing this as the pace of my schedule picks back up. I feel like I’m talking to mom as I talk to patients. And as I just listen.