My older siblings are in town, because they want to visit mom, and see how she is doing. I've been her only care giver other than the day time care giver (who is a saint, I swear she's an angel), and my siblings and I spoke today about mom's progress. Or mostly, the lack thereof.
We have learned that mom has no neurological deficiencies, no stroke no heart attack, no broken bones, nothing - she just went downhill after the not eating/malnutrition/depression. She has regained a lot of strength and weight, but as I've shared with you all, she is recovering at home, having a lovely time playing "get me this, get me that, why can't you find this," oh and the all time favorite, "You can get me my dinner now," after not being more than 2 feet in the door. Not even a hello.
I shared with my siblings the abusive phrases she used on me yesterday while cleaning her commode, the way she thinks I'm insulting her when I offer to help her in the shower, all of it. I told them, and I don't know where the courage came from, but I told them I am done with the abuse. I am well aware and sympathetic that she is ill, losing control, things are changing, but to be told, "Well what the hell do you want me to do about it?!" when I ask her simple things, or yes or no questions, will no longer be tolerated. To have her watch me sit down in a chair and then say, "go get me my water bottle," can no longer happen. I tried my hardest to care for her, but the burnout has led me to a place where I no longer care if she showers, or gets up to practice her PT. I read about it, it's called compassion fatigue, and I feel miserable at myself with it.
So they are going to get with her tomorrow and tell her she needs to make better decisions about her long term progress. Her doctor upon discharge said he was 100% optimistic she would make a full recovery to a fairly good quality of life. I told my siblings, "she's addicted to living this way now." I feel that she is.
Wish me luck. This isn't going to be easy, but something shone down upon me today for my siblings to answer me back, "You've had enough."