Long Term Care - An Unexpected Committal

At the hospital they forced her to eat - at least some part of every meal. She recovered from the pneumonia (at least as recovered as she'd get physically) in about 15 days. They declared the pneumonia cleared, and completed one last round of antibiotic treatment. When I asked at the nursing desk when I'd be able to take her home, there was silence.

A huge and noticeable silence as the nursing staff stopped...and stared at me with incredulous eyes.

Me, being me...I raised my eyebrows in a questioning look, waiting for the shoe to be dropped. Not really sure what that shoe would be.

Mom's nurse finally told me - you can't take her home. She needs a nursing home. I thought about this for a few seconds. Yes, we know she needs a nursing a home, she's on the list. But if I can't take her home, what am I supposed to do with her for the next year while we wait for a space?

The hospital has a long term care ward, where patients like mom can wait. But the cost is not borne by the health care system. We'd have to pay for that. I thought again for a while. The cost was something we could manage - dad had left enough money to deal with that. But in a hospital room, you can have very little in the way of belongings.

I didn't want to leave her there. I was hesitant to sign the papers. I cried.

They called my doctor (who had also taken over my mom's care when she moved here), and he finally signed the forms along with the hospital doctor on duty so it wouldn't matter if I signed them or not.

I still cried.

My doctor finally said that if I didn't sign the papers, he'd initiate an in-hospital treatment for ME because I was beyond the point of being able to care for her alone anymore. That surprised me. Apparently my family had been telling him that I wasn't (and hadn't been) myself for a very long time, that the only thing I did every day was look after mom, and wasn't looking after myself.

So I signed the papers, and mom's status on the waiting list for a nursing home went from normal, to urgent. That would mean she might get a room in a few months, instead of nearly a year.

I went home from the hospital that day feeling very sad, and extremely depressed but there was also a tiny part of me that felt a little relieved. If I were honest, that relief wasn't just for mom's sake (that she'd have the care she really needed around the clock), but partly for my own sake as well. I could sleep at night without the constant worry over mom's safety.

The part that carried the weight on my shoulders was a little lighter, but not by much because it had been replaced by a smaller but equally upsetting weight...I had signed my mom's life over to someone else. And I didn't like it. Not one bit.