Mom, Today, 8/4/17

This morning I fielded a call from mom bugging out a bit on her cell. It was a non-linear conversation which contained a few fragmented thoughts from her:

1. She thinks my sister is conspiring to keep her in the hospital against her will;
2. She wants me to contact this guy Bob, who is a retired cop, who is a friend of her brother--when I pressed her "Why should I call Bob?" She replied, "I don't know." 
3. She doesn't feel well, she's out of sorts, doesn't feel like herself;
4. She feels like she's going to die in there and that will be the next thing I know; 
5. She feels like her house burnt to the ground and no one told her and she's staying in the hospital because she has no where to go;
6. "What has happened to my life? I've never had complaints about my life before, now look at what a mess it is."

All of the above is upsetting to hear, especially with me not being local to her and thereby being more hands-on.  I can't tell right now what's at play:

1. Is her glucose impacting her memory & mood (I'm sure it is, to a degree);
2. Is there something else going on? (TIA, mini stroke, or did the fall hurt her brain too?);
3. Is this her trying to garner sympathy or otherwise manipulate me?

Straight away, I contacted my aunt, who was just there Wednesday and Thursday (and stayed in mom's house, so NO, her house has not burnt to the ground), and I just wanted to get the story straight.

Of course, given this weirdness with my sister, it'd be all too convenient for me to jump to the conclusion that she's going to keep mom from going home; however, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt here. Even my aunt heartily concurs that this isn't the case. 

I then brought up the fact mom wanted me to contact Bob (I guess to report it--she lost her thought process before she could finish that sentence), and seemed almost to wake up when I asked why should I call and she replied, "I don't know."    

Her glucose continues to hover around 200-220.  The food she's being given to eat is not only gross, but it's also not conducive to someone who is diabetic (i.e. not a lot of lean protein or steamed veggies, the fruits aren't low glycemic (when I was there it was canned mandarin oranges--and I don't care if the can says "sugar free" oranges are not good for people with diabetes. PERIOD.), and the bread is standard white, fluffy high glycemic index bread.  

The problem not just is in the food that's provided, but also, she's not eating.  And that's having a result too.

Another "gem" that came out when I spoke with my aunt was how mom wanted her to go back to mom's house to get mom's supply of vicodin, put it in a baggie and bring it back to the hospital. Of course, my aunt refused to do this!

My next step was to text my uncle T in Florida, to see what he could tell me about whatever conversation he had with mom that involved his friend Bob. I said, "Being in law enforcement myself, I know enough that if mom were to report anything to anyone, it'd be a cop from the local PD, not someone from northern NJ." 

So we hurry up and wait. And it's a weird kind of waiting. I am not sure if I elucidated this previously, but the timeline here is kind of eerie, harkening back to the summer of 2008 with dad's final health crises and hospitalization. 

He ended up in the hospital 1-2x towards the end of July, was in and out in August (went home, sold his truck, and re-homed all his birds and his sister came down and got his dog), and back into the hospital he went, and soon thereafter was the surgery at the end of September, and by the end of October he was gone. 

So, my 40th birthday in 2008 was the last birthday dad was alive; and now I'm wondering if my 49th birthday will be the last birthday where mom is alive. 

Everything else (i.e. the bullshit with my sister) all seems so unimportant right now.