Up until this point, the majority of the staff have been telling me repeatedly how much they LOVE my mom, that she is wonderful and sweet and they really enjoy talking with her. Even the ones she maligns within their earshot. I just nod and smile and keep my fingers crossed. And wait for the other shoe to fall.
That shoe fell when the inevitable happened--Mom got a roommate. Up until now, she has been living it up in her own room (with two beds), on the short-term rehab wing, waiting for a bed to become available in the long term care wing. It seems surgeons have been busy this week, so room assignments had to be massaged to accommodate more patients. Some poor unsuspecting woman who just had major knee surgery won the dubious lottery of becoming Mom's first roommate. The facility social worker called me, as did the floor RN, and asked me to come to the Oaks as soon as I could. I felt as if I was being called to see the principal about an recalcitrant child. Apparently, Mom was acting as if she owned the place, slamming doors, cussing out housekeeping, and vehemently (and loudly) announcing she was NOT letting anyone in HER room. She was being verbally abusive, making racist remarks about her new roommate's children, and cursing and hollering.
When I arrived, I stopped in to see the social worker, got the lowdown, and girded my loins to enter the lion's den. Mom was in typical crazy mode--lying partly on the bed, with her legs hanging off the bed, eyes sunken in, skin clammy and hot, looking like someone possessed (highly possible, by the way). I sat down, told her she had to stop, that if she did not act like a normal human being they would move her elsewhere. She was confused and agitated, not making any sense. She demanded a private room (that she can never afford), announced she is going home (she cannot), told the staff I said she can come home (uh, nope), and kept trying to hit me.
The circus was in town! She marched her walker over my toes to the nurses' station, hollering all the way. Staff, patients, and visitors were ducking in and out of the rooms. Her unlucky new roommate was sobbing uncontrollably. For her health and well-being, they moved her into a different room--she certainly wasn't going to convalesce properly with Mom as her roommate. And while that granted Mom the smug satisfaction of an apparent victory, it is short-lived.
For they have ordered a psych consult for Monday, and further disruptions will result in her being moved to a psychiatric hospital. Which is where she has needed to be for the past 70 years. Lord give me strength.
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