Just when I thought things were headed in the right direction, my belief in the medical profession once more has been dashed into the ground. After a cat scan in the early morning, they did nothing else for Ma. At four thirty last night I got a phone call saying they were sending her home--- catheter still in place.

What?!!! That time of night they decide to send her home? I wasn't a happy camper. Yes, I want her to come home, but come home healthy. I don't like driving at night especially during the afternoon commute, so by the time I got to the hospital, I was not in the calmest of moods.

Ma informed me that the nurse wanted to talk to me to show me how to take care of the urine bag. Let me tell you, inside I was ready to boil over... or burst into tears. Draining and changing the bag isn't rocket science. Of course, every question I had, she couldn't answer. In the end, she asked if I had any questions and I replied, "Not any that you can answer." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

I don't care! The bleeding hasn't stopped. They only stood her up once in the past four days and she's expected to go home and return to regular life? Another thing is that they only came in once in those four days to help her wash up. Even Ma wasn't happy about that---having the same shirt on since Sunday--- and with drainage and all--- ooh yuck.

Needless to say, I'm snappy and cranky. This whole episode ticks me off. I guess if the doctors don't see a need to perform expensive procedures and surgeries, then you might as well go home--- that way when you get sicker, they can play with their machines and knives. Yep, all this just supports my dis-belief in the medical profession.

Seven degrees outside and I am parked four miles away from the entrance. Hey, at least the truck was warmed up by the time Ma got in. We got home a little after 7 p.m. Ma took one of her pills (one she is supposed to take EVERY day and hasn't had once since Sunday--- and I'd brought them in.) I took care of her things and by then, I was so hungry, my hands were shaking and I still had to change the bag. OOhhh, gross! If I wanted to be a nurse, I would have gone to nursing school!!!

Got that taken care of and the cleaning of the other was taking place. I made a dish of nachos and settled on the couch. It was almost 8:30. Ma went in the bathroom. "There's blood in my undies," she called. Uuggghhh, just what I want to hear while trying to eat. I put my plate down and went to check.

Now what? The liquid in the bag was definitely redder. Got her settled back in bed and when I checked later, she was sound asleep. I went off to bed myself.

Yes, I am angry, very. And upset. I don't usually get grossed out by things but I am really grossed out about this. Guess it goes to show that I can view from a distance, but to get close and have to touch---eeewwwww. I can't imagine doing this for a week. (She has to make an appointment to see the urologist in a week. They couldn't do it last night because by the time they sent her home, it was after hours.) I feel like throwing a temper tantrum like a little kid. Or maybe I'll just plain throw up.

I think about this anger. I could choose not to be angry, I know. I am choosing to be angry and in doing so, I have to look at why. I don't want to be a nurse nor do I want to be someone's servant. No offense, Ma, but I remember her saying to Margaret (her twin,) "Maggie, get me a Pepsi," "Maggie, make me some toast," and "Maggie, go get the mail." And that was when she was healthy.

I know I have issues with "servant," "serving," "waiting on." I used to work in a stock room where I had to wait on people coming to the window and get them their supplies. This was when my anger first came out. Perhaps that had come from many years of holding back. Anyway, there was something about people asking me to get them things that triggered an angry response. (Guess quitting that job didn't take care of the issue, ha ha.)

I have to also admit that there is a little guilt of not being a good daughter because I don't want to do those things for my mother. The anger sets in. I'm afraid that I will start to resent and hate her because I have to do these "gross" things. Okay, okay, I know I should be tapping on this stuff, but I have to go do other things. I have to get her taken care of before my morning Tai Chi class.

Arrrgghhh, get me through this!!!

I also realize that the anger hides the fear. I don't want to lose my mother. I'm not ready to be alone.

But all this aside, I have a ton of questions. A year or so ago, Ma was diagnosed with polycysistic kidney disease--- but it's nothing to really worry about at her age, though her children (meaning Don and I) should be checked. Nothing else has been said about it. Then she is being treated for a urinary tract infection--- but the doctor in the hospital doesn't know why because he saw no signs of it. Yet her bladder filled to near bursting, she had blood clots, and leakage and consistant issues with her abdomen. Hello? Is any of this related? It's like they are treating today's issue only without considering what's been going on all along. 'Course, I'm not a doctor, but we are just not getting any answers.