Home Again

Brought Mom home from the hospital this afternoon. She is more than a little irritable and her mood is very unstable. I don't think she should be home, but I don't have a medical degree, so my opinion means nothing. 

I was hoping the hospital social worker would arrange solutions for home, but I'm told that is not her job. She arranged for home health to come out to the house, and I've been informed that Mom's meds will be managed by whomever they send. I'm tired of the ignorance here. This is not, I repeat, NOT a "family dynamic" issue. This is a medical issue. If Mom had simple dementia from Alzheimer's, the medical team would never question if she needed help with money or meds. They'd be offering help left and right and she would have more care and more understanding than she would know what to do with. But she has this mysterious illness with a long name that her non-nurse daughter talks about as if it's real and all they do is fight. So it must be a family issue, right?

She was weepy on the way home. Apologized for "doing what [she] did after [I] said we were in this together," even though she won't tell me what she did. She said we have each other, apologized for my life revolving around her, and all sweet until we got to juice it up. Then she thought I yelled at her (I didn't) and demanded an apology, and didn't make it home before throwing a hissy fit. The bag with her shoes from the hospital fell into the trunk from the back seat (I have my seats down from the last craft show), and I told her I'm going to look for her shoes, but I only have so many hands. Somehow, she thought I said, "get the f#%k out," and started screaming about how I don't give us a chance. Then demanded three sedatives at once. I gave her one, she threw another fit. 

I don't know when this med manager is coming, but soon would be nice. I'm always the bad guy. Btw, nobody will do anything about her money management. That must be a "family dynamic issue." 

I haven't told her that Mamadog had two medical events while she was in the hospital. The meds aren't working, and I can't see her in pain and terrified of what's going on, so I'm afraid it might be fair to her to put her down. I'll hold off on telling Mom for another day or so. She has enough stress from imaginary HE-visions, I don't need to add reality immediately. 

Reminds me; I need to delete that Cupid profile. Dating would be lovely, getting to know another human and have fun and maybe hold conversations above the third grade level. But how can I, in good conscience, pull some poor fool into this whirlwind mom-centric hospital-familiar sanity-not-required life I lead? And the chances that he'd be Jewish are pretty slim. Maybe in another few years, after Mom's transplant and given that I recover well afterward. They say 50 is the new 30, so I've got time, right?

Oh just lie to me. I need it today. <3