When The Patient Is The Caretaker
Yesterday my dear mother had surgery. She spent the night before with us which made Yorkie the happiest dog on the planet. He kept switching from her bed to ours every hour. Porkie did not know what to think of all this, for there was NO WAY she was gonna go sleep with that strange woman in the other room. We are up at 5:30, checked into the hospital at 7, surgery by 9 and I am in post-op talking to the surgeon by 10. Everything went well, thank God, and I am in to greet her back to consciousness in recovery, with us on our way home by noon. Sounds nice and efficient, eh? Except the poor dear was in no state to be rushed out of the hospital a mere hour from waking up from general anesthesia! She was in pain and struggling and raw and emotional. I felt so bad for her! And it brought up all the layers upon layers upon layers of feelings about my myriad of hospitalizations and illnesses and health problems I have struggled with. A fair amount of us Fibromyalgia patients have other conditi...