Jumping hurdles into the new normal

Tuesday, we moved Mom to a new "home." This one is much smaller — 15 rooms — and more like a house. All the rooms are circled around the main living room and a large kitchen/dining area. Each bedroom has its own bathroom, too.

I'm hoping and praying this will be a good answer for my mom, and for us. So far, it seems that way. I am a little frustrated because I haven't been well enough to be out there since Wednesday morning. I have the "crud," whatever that is right now (chest, throat, cough, head). I don't think my parents or the other residents need to be exposed. 

So ... Because I've been away since the first night, I don't know much. 

I do know, however, that communication with staff has been good, either when my sister tries or I do. And my dad is giving good reports from when he is out there. She's been sleeping well. That's definitely different. And she likes the food. The chef there personalizes the food for them;  he asked me what she likes, and I told him. He made Mexican food yesterday. Sweet! 

(I'm itching to get her room finished! It's going to be so cute!)

So, why didn't we do this sooner? Why did we go through all that nursing home drama?

Mostly because of money, of course. Isn't that the usual hurdle?  

Kim and I had been looking at the expensive option of a group home. That's where four residents live in a regular house together with licensed caregivers. Group homes are more expensive options because normal insurance/Medicare doesn't pay for them. 

We were told of some good ones (and not so good ones), and looked into them. We liked the idea but couldn't make it work. First, the good ones have long waiting lists. Second, the state of Texas does not require the group homes to be licensed, and the homes in Amarillo are not licensed; however, if Mom's long-term care policy were to pay for the home, her residence would have to be licensed. (The group homes in Flower Mound, where Kim lives, are licensed ... but, hey, picking up and moving both my parents may just be too much for everyone. We haven't needed ... yet ... to jump that hurdle.)

Where my mom lives now is licensed. And that's how we could make it happen ... that, plus an opening just became available, right when we needed it, so, thank you, God, because I do not believe in coincidences.

***

Her customized wheelchair — the Pink Mercedes, as my dad calls it — came in yesterday, too. I have been excited about that, but, of course, I haven't gotten to see it. The hope is greater comfort, stability and safety for her. (And, no, it's not pink, and it's not a Mercedes; it's more like a black Ford.)

***

Being sick this week has made me have to trust others a little more ... and trust that God is taking care of Mom through others besides family right now.  I have worried that my dad is trying to do too much because I'm not around. He has very little energy to spare. The blood transfusion he had last week helped for a few days, but he's feeling pretty low again. <sigh>

Is it okay for me to say I'm tired? 

Even if it's not okay — even if it's whiny and pitiful — I'm saying it anyway: I am tired of this.

I'm tired and have difficulty finding energy for the next hurdle in this journey because I can't see a light or a rainbow or any other pretty color right now. I see every shade of gray, because I know my life has entered a normal that will never be pleasant to me.

I have lost the strong, capable mother who raised me. I see my dad growing weaker all the time.

But it is what it is.

It is what it is what it is what it is.

I simply don't like it.