This nightmare began nearly four weeks ago. Yet today was one of the most difficult ones yet.
As promised, I went to work. A full eight hours. No leaving mid-day to check on Mom. No frantic calls to family members with updates. Just work.
I called Mom's nurse only once. And was told Mom was "distant." Did that mean almost comatose? Or simply quiet? That was so not reassuring.
Adding to my anxiousness was the fact I hadn't seen Mom in three days. Amara came down with the flu. Her doc believed her symptoms added up to H1N1. And that meant I couldn't go near Mom without risking putting her in the line of fire. I stayed away. And I don't even know if Mom noticed.
But I noticed.
So who knows how I'll feel tomorrow at work. Maybe it'll get easier, leaving Mom to go back to my "normal" life. But I hope not. I don't want hospice to become routine. Hospice is wonderful. The nurses are comforting. But waiting for imminent death is torture. And I don't want that to ever be part of my normal.