Broken. Hip.

Is this the time?

Or the beginning of the end?

A fall at her age

so often is the start of the end.

Surgery so stressful,

as is the break

Will she fight through?

Or has she had enough?

I sit and wait,

and wonder.

 

These were my thoughts two weeks ago.  My mother fell.  It happens at her age, and as so often happens, a hip breaks.  I wrote the portion above while waiting for her to come out of surgery.  She did…rod inserted, nailed into place.  Such an impositions on an aged body.

I’m most surprised by her attitude.  She says she’s going to walk, and go back home to her bed and her cat.  Now I can imagine that even if that happens, it won’t be the same.  But we’ll see.  I think she will push through, walk again, go home again.  And I’ll be thankful.

It makes me wonder about me, though.  She, for better or worse, at least has me.  When my time comes, will I have anyone to be a visitor, to be an advocate, to be a link to the outside world?  Someone who can research rehab centers, assisted living facilities, medical payments, take care of the house?  I was surprised that I had so little time from the surgery to find a rehab facility.  It was only a day and a half.  Not a lot of time, no good capacity to research the numerous facilities, their ratings, their rankings, their capabilities.  Still, she seems to be doing well.  But I have to wonder about her.  After all….

she likes the food there. But not well enough to stay any longer than necessary.