I wrote this post a few weeks ago, and am just now getting around to posting it. Things have changed rapidly here, and hospice is with us now, caring for my mom is what is looking like her last days. I’ll wrote more soon. Blessings.
I’m chronically self-sufficient. A bit of a control freak.
I talk a good talk, I know the drill—it takes a village. We can’t do it alone. I know it’s okay to ask for help, in fact, it’s important to! I practice it in small ways with my husband. (Sometimes.)
I’m getting better at saying no when I’m asked to do something that I know will push me over the edge into abject Stressville.
But, I haven’t really learned how to ask for help. It’s even hard for me to recognize when help is offered. I tend to give a reflexive, “No, thanks, I’m fine! I can handle it.”
In my last post I wrote about my mother moving here. She finally has a diagnosis of gastritis, duodenitis and esophageal constrictions (which were stretched successfully). That’s basically a lot of inflammation in her upper digestive tract. So, eating and drinking is not much fun for her. The good news is it’s not cancer. Although what’s going on at the other end of her digestion is still an unknown, she opted not to let anyone take a look. Which is her right.
(more…)