I don't want to go in there....

It's time I go in and at least check on my mom. It's already 9:00 AM.

But I don't want to.

Firstly, I am always afraid she will be dead. If she is dead, another half hour won't make any difference.

If she is not dead, then the day begins again. The changing of the diaper, the crushing of pills, the sitting her up in bed, the feeding, brushing her teeth.

She cannot sit up by herself, and just raising the hospital bed only seems to put her chin into her chest, if she is not at the very top of the bed. And, if she is not all the way to the top of the bed, it's a little difficult to pull her up by myself.

So, I turn her sideways in the bed, putting pillows behind her and around her, propping her feet up on a chair.

It's not easy. I put my left arm under her knees and with the right I reach around her back, holding her like you would a child. I pivot her into position, being careful of her left knee which always hurts a little when I move her.

Once I get her set up, I put on her bib, then arrange a pillow in her lap to level the food tray.

I get started on breakfast.

And the day begins again.

She has been in the hospital bed continually for over 2 months now.

That makes me depressed just thinking about it.

So, I just won't think about it.