Monday, April 20, 2009
. . . so briefly I just had a 70-yr-old mother drop off her 53-yr-old daughter in my office, having pretty much washed her hands of her. She's had it, she says. Mental illness sometimes is more straining than physical ailments. Mom and daughter have had a huge fight. Mom can't even look at her daughter. For various reasons, daughter sits in my office for over an hour. We talk a little but not much since, not only does her mental illness inhibit her desire for conversation, but she's been on a three-day-drunk. A therapist takes her into another room and gets her some food, leaves her for five minutes so I can fill her in on what's going on. When she goes back to check on her, she finds her on the floor, unresponsive and not breathing. Pandemonium sets in as 911 calls are made, directions given, life-saving procedures are put into play. The dust has settled. They got her on life support and to the hospital. The LifeFlight helicopter just flew over. My insides are in the fetal position. All I can think about is what her mother will go through when she realizes the severity of what has happened and how their last conversations were confrontational and how many words she said that didn't need to be said and how many words didn't get said that should have been said. So . . . kids, grandkids, family & friends, (you, too, hubby) . . . don't go getting all disgusted with me when I make sure I tell you I love you, especially when you're leaving. At least those are some last words I could live with. RTILYA!!!!