Home > tHE gREAT gOMBOO! > Hospitals, Doctors, Nurses of the impersonal

Hospitals, Doctors, Nurses of the impersonal

This was in response to an Open Salon article entitled Keep Breathing.

Oh, God you reminded me of my mother and “therapy.” She had a stroke and I was told there was no hope of recovery but still there was a Therapy Hospital. Apparently she had to qualify to go there.

I’m getting so sad just writing this. It was in 2006, December and 2007, January.

I wish I had been like you, so sure of yourself and knowing what to do. I am thankful mom didn’t have Alzheimers. They think she had Dementia but I don’t know. It was  a rare occassion that mom spoke to friends who weren’t there.

Anyway, mom died. I never got her back home where she wanted to go. I botched the whole thing. I was uncomfortable and among relatives I didn’t count as my closest and they were not y oung, they were nearly mom’s age.

Oh, just thinking about it makes me so blue, but maybe there is something to learn from it. Don’t let yourself be caught all alone in this world.  Mom never wanted to live in a home and I’m glad I didn’t come to that but I did press her too far in going through therapy. There was another “advanced” therapy that I made her go to because, well, I wasn’t sure I could deal with her being at home.

The “advanced” therapy didn’t turn out to be anything more than waiting for her to die. She did that in just 4 days.

I think it was against insurance policy for anybody to actually tell me “take her home.”  Nobody would and nobody would go so far as to tell me they would be by my side in doing that. Nobody had a personal phone number for me to call to assure me. I can only believe it isn’t policy to help the dying and their family or those known as the unrecovering and their family. I heard her compared to that woman down in Florida who was being kept alive by feeding tube, but I think mom could actually communicate, but it was only in whispers. Didn’t they get that? Was everything up to me? Why were they getting paid? I guess it was because they were so insurance savvy.

Ah, and there was nary a person my age who was there to help. What a wound. Will it ever heal?

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