A rough go for Mom on Thanksgiving eve in the hospital. Mom is medically stable and she will be released when they figure out a near perfect cocktail of drugs to manage her pain at home.
After a sluggish morning mom picked up her spirits and alertness only to have them shattered by the most unprofessional counselor I have ever been exposed to. Mom, her brother and I were sitting in the room when a counselor walked in and asked to chat. She said, "So I understand you have been talked to about hospice." Immediately Mom started to scream and yelled, "Get the hell out of my room!"
We do not know which counselor she was, we don't know where she came from, but I can assure you that is not the way to approach such a topic. That is supposed to come from a medical doctor and in a much softer, more professional manner than just so bluntly. I then heard the most blood curdling scream come from my mother's mouth. She spent hours crying, demanding the head manager from where the counselor works, repeating herself saying, "I don't want to die. I don't want to miss the wedding. I want to see my grand kids." It was the hardest day she has faced since the day she was diagnosed...and the day is not even over.
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