Not too much changed after bringing my mom back to the area–except that now in addition to the kids, husband and work, I also had my mom living with me. The fact that we did not have a spare bedroom meant that for the time being, she was camped in the living room. This made things particularly interesting because anytime I moved through the house, she was there to catch me–maybe to do something for her, but more often that not, just to talk, to tell me something, to reminisce about something. I was already physically exhausted–I was now becoming mentally exhausted as well.
She had no money when she came to live with us-she did however, have a steady flow of regular income, and it took less than a month to get her moved into her own place, not far from our home. The next few months were spent getting her adjusted into her new space, finding affordable furnishings and getting her medical situation under control. For me, stress and exhaustion were beginning to cave in on me.
In May, as we prepared to travel a few hours south for a long weekend, I woke up with a sharp pain in my back. The pain was so intense, I struggled to even breathe. It didn’t make any difference if I stood, sat or even lay down–it failed to subside for even a moment. Rather than scrap our plans, we went ahead and went away. We were meeting family to celebrate my nephew’s high school graduation, and were spending the day walking around the zoo and going out to eat. I knew that I was going to be in pain no matter what I did, so I didn’t feel there was any point in changing plans. Part of my reasoning was that I did not want to explain the pain. After all, there was no cause–I had not been injured– I hadn’t fallen or been hit or anything. How do you explain an intense pain that comes out of nowhere? The weekend continued with the pain gradually subsiding. As we drove home on Sunday, the pain was nearly gone from my back as it slowly crept into my right shoulder. Seriously. I did not know what was going on, but while we drove closer and closer to home, my shoulder ached.
To be continued. . .