Something's Gotta Give

Yes, Mom has become the Immovable Object.  It was so bad today that her physical therapist left after one failed attempt at getting her from the chair:  I was holding and lifting on the other side of Mom's body.  She just got so terrified at the thought of standing on her legs.  What makes this so irrational is that she could do it in the nursing home:  I even saw her walking and standing during physical rehab. 

Oh, all sorts of thoughts go through my mind.  Some of them are compassionate--she's never been in rehab for this long ( almost three months);  the space is different at home, and there are no experienced health aides to get her moving.  It might even be some residual dementia--making her hold on to her fear.

Having said all that, I do have homicidal thoughts about my dear old Mother.  She spent a good portion of her life being negative and anxious, and has transmitted this anxiety to all four of her daughters.  One reason I had such a poor body image was the memory of the first time she bathed me at home--ran out of the bathroom crying when she saw the chest scar.  Mom has been such a negative person--and prone to depression.  Having ancestors from the west of Ireland adds a nice dose of depression to her DNA--one of her childhood memories is looking at her Dad and saying "Look Mommy: Daddy's smiling".  ( an unusual event in the Regan family.

So, enough.  I am going to use the techniques that got her out of the wheelchair this weekend, and will plant her in the bed tonight.  Tomorrow, the men from the medical equipment company are coming to move the hospital bed from the back of the house to the dining room.  Perhaps, if we tip them extra, they can carry the regular bed to the bedroom.

If anybody is reading this, say a prayer for Mom and her caregivers/daughters:  Ginny and me.