My mother was released from the hospital last Friday after 34 days, and went home to her apartment. This of course made her happy (in the quietly smiling goofily sort of way, as I said would happen). Now begins the round of follow-up visits to doctors and from home nurses and therapists. It’ll be annoying to her, but it’s way less annoying than the last month has been, since she can spend the time in between sitting on her couch watching her TV or reading her books and looking out her windows.
She had an infection that she thought was a bad cold. The doctors figured out the wee beasties that caused it, but I have the sense that it’s the sort of bug that we all get but can usually fight off. Mom is elderly and has diabetes and circulatory issues. She ended up with both pneumonia and empyema (that’s fluid around the lungs). In hindsight, she should’ve gone to the doctor long before she did, but the whole thing kinda got away from us. That has weighed pretty heavily on my mind; it’s the sort of what-if thinking that isn’t a lot of good. I bet she goes for help faster next time.
I’m concerned that the illness has left her a little less capable of activity than before, and we won’t know if that’s true until some time passes. After all, having just gotten out of the hospital, she’s still rebuilding her stamina and getting used to doing things again. She’s handling routine meal preparation pretty well so far. I’m planning to spend more time at her place just to help out and quietly keep an eye on her. I will know she’s back when she goes to Grocery Bingo in her building. (They pay a quarter per card, and the prizes are small items like paper towels, canned food, and little utensils.) She does like her Bingo.