Yesterday we brought Cynthia home. She has been getting weaker and more confused every day at the hospital, so we have decided along with her doctors that the best place for her to be is resting in her own bed. We had planned to make that move sometime this weekend, but her condition is such that being at the rehab facility no longer makes sense. Last night a nurse from Alive Hospice came to our house, and we set up a plan with them to receive care and to make her as comfortable as possible going forward.
The diminishment of her health in the past 6 weeks has been drastic. Most of the time, she does not remember her own name. She is unable to stand or move without assistance. She cannot recall from one second to the next what is happening, and always feels like there is a step that has somehow been missed. (We feel that way too.) Every once in a while, generally in the morning, she has a good spell. This morning–after babbling in her sleep through most of the night–she woke at 7 and looked at me and said, “My name is Cynthia.” She does not have any recollection of yesterday, which is a blessing. We ate yogurt and strawberries and English muffins, and laughed with Abigail when she came in to wake up Gamma. No matter what, that sweet girl is always able to bring a smile to her face. After lunch, things took a turn–the past few hours have been more like yesterday was–and now we know that this will probably continue. Good moments will be peppered into each day, we hope, and we will treasure each one.
We are going to try to get through the weekend (to see how to schedule each day), but once we have a handle on that we will be welcoming visitors. As always, text me if you would like to set up some time to sit with her. Some of you have asked if we are receiving food right now, and we are–a dear friend set up a schedule HERE. The last name is Tripp, and the password is 1234. Please take note of the dietary restrictions–she is still on a diabetic diet, so heavy pasta dishes and super sweet desserts are not something she can enjoy right now.
I know without a doubt that my mother is deeply loved by so many of you, and our family has felt that love and support throughout every step of this. We ask that you pray now for peace–for her to feel safe within her mind. She has said many times in the past few days that she is not afraid, and that is truly the thing we are holding on to.