It’s been quite a week

From the Heart

I am a woman of strength because of my faith. I am a strong woman because of my journey.

The blend of both has made me the woman I am today. My mother has been my greatest influence.

Strength was called upon when I received a call Tuesday morning this past week. I recognized the number as one that should not be calling me that early.

Within minutes I headed out the door, wearing no makeup, my hair brushed only by the bed. Only one thing would send me out without being “put together”… a trip to the emergency room at Riverview.

My sweet mama was confused and speaking word salad. Her words were not making any sense thus … word salad. Even her nurses were concerned. They had called 911.

My heart raced as I could not get to the hospital, and to her, fast enough. I obeyed the traffic laws but told a few drivers they needed to pedal faster.

I have learned a lot over the years of being her caretaker. Faith helps hold me together when my world becomes shaken as she grows more and more frail.

I sat beside her bed after she was diagnosed with another UTI (urinary tract infection). Within hours of the start of the antibiotic, her speech came back. She was still scared. So was I. Her body continues to betray her.

Time is of the essence with her. This week my job was simply to be her daughter. I met with a wound specialist, occupational therapist, dietician, nurse practitioner and case manager along with nurses and techs who cared well for my mother.

UTIs. Macular degeneration. Arthritis. AFib. Muscles that no longer allow her to walk without struggling. Esophageal dilations because of choking. So many health issues and battles.

Yet …

By Thursday afternoon she was back to her healthcare campus. She was greeted with hugs and “welcome back” by both the residents and staff.

You see, my mother, even with her struggles, has such a warmth and caring about her. She makes sure the gals at her table have their food, have it cut up and if not, she calls for help. She sees them as needing much more help than she does.

At 93, she continues to live her life with a purpose.

In therapy, I have seen her encourage others who struggle to put puzzles together or find answers to a game.

My mother is still teaching me to be an encourager and a woman of strength. I pray I can be the woman that she is someday.

I did tell her I was glad she recognized me at the hospital since I had arrived without my makeup or hair being done. She smiled and said, “Would you go to Prairie Lakes and get my comb? I need to fix my hair.”

Maybe I’m more like her than I realize.