The Day Mom Went To Rehab

Today around 4 p.m. Mom finally made her way to a room on the Rehab floor of the hospital.

It's been eleven days since the heart attack and nine days since the stroke. Funny, but it seems like it's been forever and not really real all at the same time. As I told the nurse tonight, in MY plans I still had another good ten years left before we had to worry about any of this stuff. Then we'd sell the house, move Mom into assisted living or in with one of us, and we'd all live happily ever after. We had all kinds of time to deal with this.

All kinds of time.

So now I'm looking at assisted living places, hoping she'll be able to get well enough to live in one. The criteria? She has to be able to get out of bed, into a wheelchair and to an exit all on her own in case of a fire. So that means I'm also looking at "extended living centers," which Mom would call nursing homes. At the same time I'm looking at plain old retirement apartments, but right now they look like pie in the sky.

Prices are ranging anywhere from $1675 per month for the retirement apartments to around $5,500 per month for the nursing home. Since Mom didn't have any long-term care insurance, her savings will be eaten up in short order if she has to choose the high-end option.

She is still foggy mentally. She sees people and things that aren't there, confuses people she doesn't know with people she does know. She thinks it should be breakfast time at midnight. She thinks she's in a different city.

We're praying hard for her mind to clear up and her thought processes to become more normal. We're praying for her physical ability to get dressed, bathe, and take care of personal hygiene by herself. We would be blessed beyond measure if she could somehow manage to live in a retirement apartment.

We'd appreciate any prayers on her behalf, and do so appreciate the prayers you lifted up so far! Thank you all for remembering her, and for remembering us.

God is good.