Things were a lot more difficult now. Mom was fitted with a prosthesis that was customized with a fun frog print (we both love frogs) and started physical therapy. I learned how to fit her with it and how to put her through her paces with it. It was a grueling but necessary process, and we were managing quite nicely on our own until that fateful day that mom told me she couldn't breathe.
It was during her stay in the hospital that she was put on steroids to reduce the inflammation in her lungs. Her blood sugar skyrocketed, making insulin a necessity. She was put on medication to regulate her heartbeat, which made checking her pulse necessary. Things spiraled out of control so fast from that point on that we didn't know what hit us.
My duties would no longer only be wound care, bandage changes, dispensing medication, personal hygiene, physical therapy and providing meals. I would now also be checking blood sugar and giving insulin, taking her pulse before giving her the heart regulating medication and feeding her a diabetic diet. I was already exhausted enough with what I was doing, and her doctor clearly saw that.
She was put into a nursing home for rehabilitation, but her Medicare ran out. Only days from being forced to return home to my care, she was sent back to the ER. She spent another week in the hospital being successfully treated for a MRSA infection. When her doctor released her to the nursing home, he told me he was sorry but that this time, it was for good.
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