Despite my best intentions about being the “voice of calm” for my mom right now, I lost my cool yesterday. I arrived to take her to a doctor’s appointment, found her room warm and stuffy (the portable AC not working properly), and couldn’t figure out how to get her switched from the oxygen generator to the portable oxygen tank. And I melted down, right there in front of her. I panicked. I raised my voice. I was the exact opposite of calm.
I rang her call button and got a caregiver to come help me with the oxygen, and then I pulled it together. But navigating a wheelchair and a portable oxygen tank on a little wheeled stand is a skill that will take me some time to master, and the whole trip to the doctor was difficult and stressful. After my little freakout, I held it together – but I wasn’t the calm, soothing presence that I always try to be (and usually am) with her.
We stopped at Foster’s Freeze on the way home from the doctor and I bribed her to eat with a caramel milkshake, which I think was the first food she’s taken more than two or three bites of all week. (At this point, I don’t even care about healthy food. I just want her to eat something. Anything.)
I’m worried that she’s still so weak and her oxygen levels are still so low. I’m afraid that when we get a new blood culture done next week it’s going to tell us there’s still infection. But there’s nothing I can do about it right now except keep a close eye on her. As a result of this worry, when the home care agency told me that the home health nurse who evaluated her on Tuesday had determined there was “no further need” for nursing care, I lost my cool again and almost shouted at her: Are you freaking kidding me?!