Almost done with the chores for the day which included taking boys to work (we were down one vehicle today), going to Target and the grocery store, and dropping some things off at one of those donation boxes. Home never feels quite as good as when I've driven all over the place and have returned. And it's raining, so this bed feels especially cozy.
But getting a tad anxious about the upcoming week with my mom's away-from-home physical therapy beginning on Monday. Her doctor has written a prescription for her to get therapy 3 days a week, and with me already doing her bathing/hair rolling one day, grocery shopping another day---well, I'm sure I don't have to spell out how twisted my head gets in trying to figure out the logistics of the week. Thinking that yoga will be a real possibility for me in the near future. Either that or a brain transplant. I'm leaning more toward the latter choice.
This nonsense is one reason I've not blogged much lately. Did post on Thursday, but it looked so innocuous after I hit the 'publish post' button that I deleted it. There's just so much jolly writing I can do in order to appear cheerful that's a plain cover-up. Was feeling too honest that day and couldn't pretend otherwise.
And even though my mom is, thankfully, much better with the splint off and the swelling in her arm and hand going down, I do sincerely wish that the doctor's office had pulled me aside and hinted at the mental challenges we'd face with her and this broken arm. She's just different. And her dependence on us and her lack of self-confidence in minor things is baffling. Her routines have been battered so thoroughly, and she doesn't seem to know herself anymore. And truth is, the more time that passes, the more difficult it is for her to branch out. She's still not felt up to going back to church, and in the two months since she fell, has only left the house for her doctor's appointments. That's enough to challenge the toughest patient.
Pardon me but I think my head's about to explode. More later.
