I left my life in California 5 yrs ago to return home to Oregon to be closer to her since she's not in good health.
She has an arthritic knee and diabetes and she's 75.....but an OLD 75. She chose to skip doctor's appointments so she could go "fishing" and to fly tying expos with her ex husband. She refused to stop smoking so she could have her knee surgery so now she sits in a wheelchair and refuses to walk. After her strokes, her husband tried to get her to stop smoking and she fought him every step of the way. He couldn't care for her anymore because his own health was bad and she did nothing for herself. We begged her to take care of herself or at least try and she refused. She'd sit in a pissy diaper all day and smoke. She refused to bathe, wouldn't take her pills and was a fall risk.
Every weekend I would make a 50 mile round trip to come and arrange her meds for the week because he couldn't do it and she wouldn't do it.
She is on her second facility now. The first one was "assisted living" and she made it very hard on the employees. Constantly b*tching about the food and the care. They would call me when she started acting out and I would have to come down there to deal with the problem. She got to where she would tell me lies about "abuse" and I would call the state, the ombudsman and anyone else I needed to call....all this after I found out she was lying to me just to get me all worked up. I told her it was "assisted living" not "we do everything for you living." She refused physical therapy and was generally uncooperative and pig headed. I do have a 48 year old brother but he's just like her...a martyr. He lost part of his leg due to his negligent actions with his diabetes and is pretty worthless. His dream is to have someone just take care of him. He's been "helpless" all his life tho. Always had Mom or Dad or some girlfriend to take care of him.
The anger and resentment I feel towards the both of them is staggering.
My father was eaten by his pigs in 2012 and I was the one who had to deal with his estate. My father abused me sexually and physically. My brother was too cracked out on drugs and wallowing in his own misery to help me and Mom had already had 2 strokes at this time. Mind you....I had to deal with the estate from a distance because I was still in California.
She's in this new place since November of 18 and she has deteriorated. She's always complaining about the food, the care and she puts on a show for me and me only. Aunts, uncles, my brother and her husband have come to see her and they don't understand why she's in hospice. She's talkative and is happy to see them. When I'm there, its another story...the helpless act, no eye contact, making sure she lets me know she's lost weight and she says to me, "I don't want to leave behind a fat corpse."
I tell you, I've done everything I can and this may be a terrible thing to say but there is no way I'm taking her to my house to care for her there...I know that's what she ultimately wants but it's not going to happen. I'd probably be dead before she died!
I needed to vent...bigtime. There's a lot more to this horror story I call life but not enough characters left.