I know I'm where I'm supposed to be, really I do. But I must admit I'm looking forward to the time when I'm supposed to be home, because then all my family members and friends will be well!
I got a phone call as I was driving to Indiana and learned that my friend had been evaluated by hospice and they determined that her level of care was greater than an unskilled caregiver could safely and comfortably provide. My husband is a doctor, but all that means is that I can ask intelligent questions when I'm talking to a health-care professional.
So my friend has been in respite care all week and my responsibilities are taking care of her sweet little Bishon and visiting her as much as I want. I think I've been useful in at least one feeding tube situation at hospice.
It's been a good visit, with equal parts laughter and tears.
And plenty of food, unfortunately. What I've learned about myself this year is that when stress levels are as high as they can get, I don't eat anything. But when they're at the current level – I'd say a 7 on a scale of 1 to 10 – anything goes, the carbier the better.
Ah, well. This, too, shall pass.