Exhaustion

We are at weekend number 3 of utter, bone-crushing exhaustion due to the effort involved in getting Mom home from the nursing facility.

While last weekend was getting her home and settled, this weekend was mostly about trying to establish a routine, getting the railing on the ramp and meeting the latest in a long-line of caregivers (again, that's another whole story).

Today, I arrived later than Himself and my brother. I had errands to do, but I came bearing the fixings for a nice Sunday dinner...spoon roast, broccoli and cauliflower medley, she has potatoes, onions and gravy.  She called while The Boy and I were en route, trying to give him a list of things she needed. I asked him to convey that I would shop later, not on my way there.

It was a bad day for my brother - he released one caregiver early expecting the second, and in the hour gap between them, Mom needed the bed pan...and I was not there. The whole experience left him raw, and while I spent my day in the house orienting the newest arrival (and assisting with Mom's numerous transfers from bed to wheelchair and back), undoing the chaos created by the previous attendants and sorting out what was needed today from what was wanted in the weekly grocery order, he spent the day helping Himself get the railing and balusters installed on the ramp.

There was less snarling and snapping today - only one instance, where I observed her bedroom window open. "Remember to close that when you connect to the Baxter tonight."  <she shrugs>  "When did you open that window, Mom?"
"I didn't. I had Dave do it yesterday evening."
"Did you close it to connect and disconnect?"
"No. And I'm not going to, it's fine."
"Mom.  Door closed, windows closed, fans off...this is to avoid an infection."
"It's fine."
"Okay. Sure. You want an infection? You want to get sick?  Go ahead." <exit>

It was another non-stop day, resupplying her room with boxes of dextrose, reorganizing the closet trashed by the previous attendants, evaluating the stock of supplies, trying now to estimate ordering times to ensure we don't run out of anything critical. When I have a better understanding of supply run rates, I will set up automatic deliveries.

I fear for her cognitive state - trying to get her to focus on meal planning in support of a grocery list, interrupted a half dozen times with things not related that she needed an answer to immediately. My own mental state is so degraded, with interrupted sleep and stress and worrying about finding the right caregiver, that not keeping on track throws me into a fugue state while I try to recover my train of thought.

But when I left, the caregiver was in control and seemed to be competent; dinner for tonight, tomorrow and Monday had been planned; immediate grocery needs had been seen to and the weekly delivery list confirmed.

Gods above, I need to get this into a predictable routine, if only for my own sanity.