Friday, September 7, 2012

Inscription Interrupted

Wow – it’s been a long time.  Shortly after my last blog, I was let go from my job.  I was working as an executive assistant for the Vice President of Marketing.  As with most business, the crunch in the economy was an axe ready to fall.  Therefore, with a restructuring of the department, my position was eliminated.  It was “timely” for the company as I had almost hit the 5 year retirement bonus.

It was also timely for me as I had the opportunity to help my 13 year old returning from Israel and experiencing the bittersweet final weeks of middle school.  I had plenty of time to help her as she endured the transition, to work with career counselors on my job search, and go to the gym to sweat off those 5 sedentary years.  But just as I was getting back into the routine, a silly accident injured my knee, which placed me on the couch with an icepack everyday.

In addition, my mom was in rehab again.  To briefly digress, in September of 2010 (at 81), she fell and broke her hip.  To compound that – she had to begin dialysis. That began a downward spiral for her as a pleasingly plump woman who carried her age well, became an old lady as her weight dropped from her body and her hair turned white.  She never should have gone home, but she insisted although she was far too frail.  And four days after she went home, she had her final fall – this time breaking her pelvis, ribs and hitting her head.  Five days later, her doctor advised hospice, as her bones would never heal.  I saw her the following day in the hospital.  Unable to swallow, she nodded in agreement to eat her favorite orange sherbet later that evening.  That night, I sent e-mails to 2 Rabbis asking how to make a decision, in the role of her healthcare proxy.  The wishes she conveyed to me after her first fall were to be “kept alive”.  But that would mean the discomfort of dialysis, physical therapy and occupational therapy.  Hospice was keeping her comfortable for the possible few weeks she had left.  Do I make a decision according to her wishes as the dutiful daughter?  Or do I choose the compassionate option?  I never had to make that decision because mom made it for me, when she simply stopped breathing.      

It’s time to move forward as I know I should do and I know that’s what mom would have wanted.  Thank you for following my blog and thank you for letting me share.

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