Thursday, December 9, 2010
My mom has had two "good" (or better anyhow) nights this week, where she ate supper and took her pills without any coaching from me. Yesterday she told me that she went to the exercise class that they have at the nursing home, and that they "throw the ball at her a few times". (They play a seniors version of volleyball with a big beach ball).
I try so hard not to get my hopes up, but what a Christmas present it would be if she stabilized again and was no longer (I’d even take a "most of the time") living in that world where people are shooting at her and she is worried about being hung or convinced that I am dead, etc….I know she’s not going to get "better" by most standards, but if she was not so scared, I think I could handle the rest of it better.
Another thing, though, because yesterday was such a "good" day for her, tonite’ll probably be worse again. It’s just a different kind of roller coaster than the bipolar is. I’m not ready to lose my mom but I don’t think anyone ever is "ready". I don’t know what’s worse—the thought of losing her, or watching her go through this torment.