This is not really that far-off as to what it is really like |
When we visit her we are in an open area where all the patients that are able to receive visitors are gathered sitting in chairs. Some get up and walk around, some throw plastic cups across the room at other patients, some scream obscenities, some place paper towels on their heads like hats, some yell because they know there is water in the little kitchen area and are incenses that they cannot have any more water, some talk on the telephone to people that are not there (actually having arguments with nobody on the other end because the phone only works when the people running the ward turn the phone on). It is pretty heartbreaking. It, in all seriousness, was well-depicted in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest. At least my mom has people that come and visit her (my dad goes the two times every day like he is allowed) and I go when I am not working. I am glad that she is not violent like she has been in the past with her dementia. Those times were even tougher on both dad and I. I suppose that came out of frustration and fear so we just accepted it for what it was. Tomorrow or Tuesday another psychiatrist is going to meet with dad and I to discuss the next steps he/she recommends for her treatment. I know what I believe needs to happen but that is not my decision to make as I am just a consigliere from time-to-time. There are so many factors that go into making these decisions: sentimental, moral, financial, practical, medical, reasonable... Life is messy a lot of the time.
I really do not have much more on my mind but I know people have been wondering and I have not had much time to write until this morning. I suppose writing is my church or meditation or release or whatever. We all have something that we use to feel like we are not alone though, as I am finding out yet again, in the grand scheme of things each one of are, in all reality, alone. Yes, we have friends and loved-ones and co-workers and we struggle through every day wondering what our purposes are but, in the end, we are but shadows and dust.
Sorry to be so maudlin this morning but being sick and tired (hey, that is a real thing isn't it?) always does that to me. I thank you, so very much, for always letting me spout my oft typographically-challenged rantings. I will keep you filled-in as to the progression or regression of the situation. Writing always helps me release and it is so much less expensive than therapy I suppose. I also use humor (or at least there attempt thereof) to mask my true sadness, pain and sorrow most of the time. If I can entertain myself maybe I am not all that bad off. Living in ones' own mind is pretty lonely I have come to learn.
Thanks again and I will keep you updated when I can. TTT (probably) tomorrow...MITM (out) TA!
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