Yesterday I went to see mom. I hadn't been able to visit for 2 days because I was sick. The updates I got were not good. Mom was struggling to breathe and agitated and trying to take her tubes out. Yesterday, I thought she looked like she was half dead.
I broke.
I can't be strong anymore. I don't have the strength to be strength for everyone. I don't have the strength to be rational and not emotional. I don't have the strength to do this.
I let go. I let go of trying to maintain composure. I let go of trying to keep everyone calm. I let go of maintaining all the updates on mom. I let go of waiting for the outcome. I let go of fear of what I look like losing it in front of everyone.
And I cried. I cried out to God. I cried for her. I cried for me. I cried for what will be. I cried out in fear.
And then it stopped. The thoughts. The worry.
His comfort came. His peace came.
And then my brother and step dad turned the lights on. She didn't look dead. It was the stupid fluorescent light from behind that made her look that way.
My sister talked to the doc today. Mom is showing progress and they will likely be moving her to a less intensive hospital by the end of the week where she will be able to receive PT and work with her on weaning off the ventilator. She is getting better. It's just very slow.
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