Home Sweet Home

Mom was discharged from the hospital today. She came home just before 7 pm. The doctors were unable to determine if what she had were seizures and unable to determine why her mental state is so diminished. They suspect that if the episodes were seizures, they were caused by her dependence on xanax and that the hospital cut her off cold turkey. They can only guess clinically at this because there are a lot of reasons for seizures to happen and she didn't have any after they started giving her xanax. They want her to get an EEG to confirm if the episodes were seizures or not, and follow up with her regular doctor and hepatologist. They want other things and sent her home with prescriptions, but as I don't have her discharge paperwork, I don't know what those are. I should get it tomorrow. 

Her memory is still quite poor. I was texting a friend tonight, and she remembered bits and pieces of information about her, but not her, and not all the pieces were accurate. It scared her that she doesn't remember who she is. She's been doing this since the night she went into the hospital. She didn't remember the caregiver, and when I gave her a JIU, she said it tasted familiar, but she couldn't remember what it was. She remembers just enough to remember that she forgets. She says that when it comes back, it comes back quickly, but it doesn't seem to do that very often. My heart breaks for her. She's so scared. I can't blame her. It's in these moments that she thanks me and cries for my life being absorbed by hers. I want to record that. I want to be able to remember how sweet she can be when I need to be reminded.

She goes into panic attacks and needs xanax about three times a day. During these attacks, it's like full-blown dementia. She doesn't know where she is, who you are, or what she's doing. She wants something, but doesn't know what, and begs for help and stutters baby-talk when attempting to speak. She physically fights to move, but is entirely unstable (she literally doesn't know which way is up), and is at a very high fall risk. When I first arrived at the hospital yesterday, she was in the middle of one of these attacks, and she was physically fighting with the PCA, who was trying to get her to sit or lay down on the bed, and Mom was trying to run away yelling that she "had to leave the prom." About 20 minutes after taking xanax, she was calm - though not clear. She was no longer fighting and no longer trying to get out of bed. She started behaving the same again tonight (she became very anxious about paying bills and kept losing the envelopes even though they were right in front of her and it's late on Sunday night so it's all a moot point anyway), and I gave her a xanax, and she was okay in about 25 minutes. It's in these moments that she starts to become paranoid and accuse me of various things. It's weird because she really reminds me of someone experiencing mania. She is completely unfocused, easily irritable, extremely anxious and out of control of herself. I'm starting to reconsider the doctor's suggestion that she may be bipolar. She's been diagnosed with depression, and now she's exhibiting this behavior....I don't know. I really want to hear from that neurologist and see the results of the EEG once it's done.

I find myself in an interesting place in life. I feel extremely appreciative to the people who have been there for us, whether physically or emotionally. The love that comes from my friends and family sometimes astounds me and I feel incredibly blessed. On the other hand, I see who isn't there for Mom, and I am dumbfounded by the lack of anything resembling concern. But right now, I'm happy that she's home. I'm relieved (and scared...wow, I'm confused), but I've decided that I am letting go of whatever negative feelings I have toward these types of unhelpful people. I don't understand their behavior and I find it disgusting. I'd rather let it go and focus on the positive people in my life and in Mom's life. The people who want to help her to live her life the way she wants it, and show her love. The people who support us when we're down and celebrate with us when we're....well, celebrating. The people who read past the page break. The ones who call to see how her Halloween went and ask if she got to spend any time with her grandkids. The ones who understand what it means to be physically exhausted and understand why I did not feel safe to drive today. The ones who give me hope that we'll be okay. In an odd way, this ordeal may have been a blessing. Mom and I are closer now, and she says she can see everything I've done for her that she didn't see before, and she appreciates it. And I appreciate the love of the people who've been there for us. 

Although, since all I've been doing is driving, visiting the hospital, and attempting to sleep, I don't look forward to the look on Aneita's face when she comes to help with Mom tomorrow and sees that pile of dishes in the sink. =P