Built my mothers death bed today
one of those ones that just needs an allen key
took a couple of hours and had 2 cups of tea during
it was warm for mid-October
The package was bought from Amazon which I silently grudge
even though I know any arguments I make have little sense in the grand scheme of things - it arrived a little earlier than expected, much like her diagnosis.
She's staying in the compound were everyone else is at least 20 years older than her, it freaks her out, on Tuesdays they do bingo.
She could of easily stayed with me or my sister but she didn't want us to be there when she leaves so she got this place from the council, think being the 1st to discover her own mother made her mind up about that.
There was a really fiddly screw bit in the middle of the frame designed for someone with much smaller fingers than I have or anyone has for that matter but otherwise it was a straightforward build and I didn't show any frustration with following the instructions as any emotion sets my mother off. I yawn and she thinks I shattered. I sigh and she thinks I'm depressed.
Her short term memory is awful because of her medication, she often forgets her alarms gone off which tells her to make her painkillers and struggles worrying shes going to overdose or go without the meds she needs to float away from the pain
Watching someone go from running marathons.to being bedridden and frail. writhing in pain then recovering beyond the expectations of the lovely nurses who cared for her but still drained from energy and walking with a stick has been conflicting. On one hand it means it wont be over too soon, there's still memory's to be made but on the other does mean continued suffering- a slow deterioration receding back to how she was before treatment knowing that we will re-live her worst moments until we eventually get to her worst. How she can watch me build this bed cheerfully now knowing whats ahead is bravery beyond me. most people don't know how they'll go so it doesn't feel real for them whereas my mother knows exactly how it will happen, even where she would like it to happen. I fasten the final screws like nails to a coffin. I guess that's it for today.
She's relieved to get some rest despitme mostly watching me and walking from room to room talking loudly to herself- a habit I know now for certain I've inherited. Tomorrow we go shopping for curtains.
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