a rough day

I was hoping to celebrate today, have exciting news about how well my mom is doing in physical therapy.

It started out okay; we made it through the night with the FOUR dogs (my two and now her two), and I got shopping and errands done for my mom.

When I got in to visit her, I told her the stories of her dogs and she smiled. Then she told me about her night, which wasn't good, lots of pain, hard to sleep.

Then she had physical therapy. She began in her bed with ankle pumps, leg lifts, and other exercises. Then she had to pee, and part of her therapy was working through getting up, getting in to the wheelchair, getting to the bathroom. All assisted by the PT therapist. Then they went to the physical therapy room. All told, maybe 25 minutes or half an hour.

Then my mom's pain started coming back. The meds that they gave her were not helping much. Her doctor was not responding to the messages the nurses had left for him. When we got my mom's dinner, her hands, which had seemed to be getting more coordinated yesterday, were trembling and uncoordinated and she asked me to feed her.

Plus, the pain meds have her constipated.

Seeing her in so much pain is so hard.

Several times she told me "I love you so much" and there were tears in her eyes and that was so hard too.

There are positives: her control of peeing is greatly improved. And she stood, and worked really hard in physical therapy.

And I am telling myself, that the backward move in coordination is due to the fatigue and the pain.

But it is so scary. I want so much to help. I want it to be BETTER.

And it is not clearly better.

I am crying, and praying, and praying and crying. And I don't want her to see me cry.