Mom is in 230 and Kaye is in 2103. If I had some roller skates, it might make this more fun.
Kaye has seen such horrible days that I'm always sure I've plumbed the depths of my despair over her. She was just so very pitiful tonight that my chest aches and my air waves seem on the verge of collapse. She is so weak, like she's been hit by a truck. Lots of times her mouth is moving but there is no sound. She was very emotional when I was about to leave. I knelt by the bed and took her hand and said, "Maybe we need to have a little talk with Jesus." I prayed with her, then sang some of her favorite hymns. Same scenario as I had with my good friend Cheri during her last hospital stay. It was the last time I saw her, she died several hours later.
Kaye smiles and cries and talks to folks who I can't see. I smile and cry and talk to this blog in hopes my breathing gets a little easier. It is very hard for me to leave her. I want to climb up in that bed and make some sense of this for her and comfort her and make her feel safe.
If the infection is better and she's been dialysised three times, why is she still psychotic and her eyes look funny and they are still having trouble with her blood pressure?
Mom is pretty pitiful too. She has coughed until she is in awful pain. COPD and Congestive Heart Failure most likely. She's on steriods and is shaky and miserable. Poor soul. I hate it for her too.