Catherine v. Drama, Drama Wins. Again.

A slightly redacted version of an email to a friend follows, it's faster than writing it all over again.

So, my mother is in the hospital. After a series of confused and confusing phone calls since I returned from the seminar, I got fed up and drove over Tues. afternoon, took her to the ER myself, we spent over 6 hours in the ER (her second time in three days).

The good news is that they did a CT scan of my mother’s abdomen and didn’t find anything seriously wrong, just a touch of irritation. The bad news is that she’s weak, shaky, has no appetite and can barely get herself in and out of bed and walk steadily, so even though there is nothing wrong on paper, there's something wrong. To his credit, her primary, who hadn't seen her in a couple of weeks, talked to me and agreed that even though her test results were good and the CT scan was negative, she can’t go home alone until she is steady on her feet and able to function, so he’s going to find an interim place for her if needed. The good news is that she has accepted the idea of assisted living, and I will rush over to the place I toured a few weeks ago to put a deposit on a 1 br. In the meantime, her doctor says that she needs to spend some time somewhere for rehab while she gets her strength back, before she is safe living by herself – because there is a waiting list for a unit at the first choice place over here. I will put her on the wait list for first available, we can always move her to a 1 if one becomes available.

So, my mother is in the ER bed, looking so tiny and frail, and started talking about how she wants new furniture for the new place. This could work out. There is a long, hard road to getting there, I know she'll have her usual mood swings every 20 minutes, this house is full of stuff and I am exhausted just thinking about the work ahead. But the last couple of days were hideous and exhausting, I didn’t know what to do from one minute to the next, and I would rather deal with moving her than do this again.

I’m tired. Between the seminar and then the Mama Drama on its heels, I am wiped out, so MD is off. Even if my mother's situation could be resolved by Friday, which is doubtful, I don’t have the energy for it. I just want to sleep for the rest of the week. Especially since it appears that it will be raining up there. It would be a miserable wet drive, a wet weekend, and I don’t need wool if I’m here for the foreseeable future. Which, if you’ve seen the housing market news, I am. Here, I mean. I’ll be damn lucky to have a job at all in this market, and I am going to to continue to take this mess one day at a time.

I want a normal life. And George Clooney, and puppies.