Sorry to leave everyone hanging with that last blog entry. It turned out that the situation wasn’t as dramatic as we were lead to believe. Hubby and I have decided that MIL’s new nickname should be Drama Queen. Oh, she’s still a very sick lady. Congestive Heart Failure. COPD. All kids of related heart and lung problems. We’ve added a serious case of Acid Reflux. But luckily no heart attack, no stroke, no kidney failure. Hubby and I talked to the doctor and got the straight scoop. She has some serious health issues, but nothing is life threatening at this time. MIL was in the hospital for 4 days this time. She’s stabilized and back home.
Hubby and I also got a bit of information that we didn’t think MIL ever intended us to know. She’s been having her neighbors take her to doctors appointments because she doesn’t want us to know what’s going on with her. There’s just one problem with that . . . she’s given Hubby and I permission to talk to the doctors about her care and she’s given Hubby power of attorney for her medical care. Whenever there’s a serious problem, she calls us. She wants to keep us in the dark about what’s going on with her health issues, but wants us to rescue her when there’s a problem. We’re a convenience for her. When we talked to the doctor about all of this, we asked if she might be a little confused about things and the doctor assured us that there are no problems with MIL’s understanding of the situation.
For 13 years Hubby and I have made every effort to be available for her for anything that she might need. Take her to doctor’s appointments, sit in the waiting room during tests and procedures, sit in the ER whenever there’s a crisis. Drop everything and run whenever she needs us. We’ve used up sick time, vacation time, personal time. We’ve juggled our schedules and our lives to make sure that she was taken care of – because that’s what families do for each other. But it’s not wanted or appreciated.
To say that I’m mad is a serious understatement. It’s been four days and I’m still trying to process it all. She says that she’s sorry and that she’s going to change – but I can see in her eyes that she’s not sincere about it. I don’t think she’s sorry that she’s hurt us . . . I think she’s sorry that she got caught. She’s telling us what she thinks we need to hear to keep us around. I’m torn about what to do. Half of me wants to let her deal with it on her own and walk away. Half of me says that I can’t do that. I was raised better than that. I may be extremely mad at her, but she’s family and family always comes first. Hubby can’t even talk about it. The saddest thing is that regardless of what we decide – she’s going to make us look like bad children for not doing more for her.
So, Dumb and Dumber Health Care has been scaled back a bit . . .