Comatose

The sun had already set when I arrived in the Boise area. I drove straight to my Aunt and Uncle’s house. Wasting no time once I got there my Aunt offered to take me over to the nursing home Mom was forced into by her uncaring, selfish husband. On the way my Aunt told me she didn’t want to see my Father. She was disgusted with him. If he was there at the nursing home, my Aunt was going to stay outside and wait until he left. Things had become even more strained between them since my last visit. I didn’t blame her for wanting to avoid Dad at all costs. Honestly I felt the same way about him. The sight of Dad made me sick.

When we got to the special nursing care facility we spotted Dad’s truck in the parking lot. My Aunt walked me inside to a hallway leading to Mom’s room, told me which number she was in and then she promptly left to wait elsewhere for me. I was experiencing anxious feelings and became more nervous with each step towards the doorway of her private room. Turning left I quietly crept up to her bedside. Both Dad and my sister were there. Dad gave me a nod but didn’t say anything when he saw me.

Mom was lying there breathing slow and steady with her mouth gaping wide open. Someone had placed a small white towel across her forehead moistened with cool water to help keep her temperature down. She looked terrible. Her wrinkled skin was barely hanging off of thin bones. Mom’s cheeks were sunken in and colored light gray. She seemed starved- like a concentration camp victim. She was only 57 years old, but at first glance Mom looked as if an extra thirty years had piled on her almost overnight. I thought I was staring at an eighty year old woman that I barely recognized. While I was standing next to her awkwardly not knowing what to do, Dad mentioned the nursing care staff had induced Mom into a coma using drugs with names I never heard of before. They gave her a constant dose of strong painkillers through an I.V. to keep her comfortable. Dad picked up her frail hand and held it in his, gently rubbing her skin as if he suddenly cared about his terminally ill wife. I immediately saw through his shoddy act and felt nothing but pure revulsion for him.

The plan was for my sister to stay with Mom through the night. I volunteered to be there during the day starting the following morning. That way one of us would be with her around the clock every day. Hopefully Dad wouldn’t come around much while I was there with her. I had little to say to him. His presence made me twisted up and angry inside.

I couldn’t think straight, and doubted I would be able to get much sleep before coming back to the nursing home in the morning.

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~ by factorypeasant on December 29, 2006.

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