I’ve spent more time talking to my brother in the last month than I have in the last five years – which is kind of sad. One good thing to come out of this whole situation with MoC is that David and I have finally painted over the mends we made in our fence. But that doesn’t mean I still don’t give him shit. Come on, have you met me?
When he got down, I told I was going to change his name in my phone to Mr. Doom. Then he got sad about everything and I told him I was going to change it to Mr. Sensitive. Today he called me and I changed his name again. He told me he spoke with the social worker who’s working on MoC’s team – and she had some pretty good news. Seems MoC is making some pretty good strides and is getting a little better every day. I saw it a little, but I haven’t seen her as much (or for very long periods) because I was afraid to give her the plague. I had noticed over the last few days that she wasn’t quite as exhausted and seemed to have longer and longer periods when she was 100% completely in the moment.
It’s still going to be a while, but at least the outlook is now better than I had hoped. I was so happy that he called me at work and hadn’t waited until this evening to update me. So I told David I was changing his name in my phone to Mr. Sunshine. And he laughed and said that it was his job to spread happiness. Because he’s a good sport.
When I saw MoC today, she was almost her old self. Almost. She is convinced that she is taken to a different room at night. David and I are convinced she had a very vivid dream. I asked her to describe the room to me, thinking maybe she was remembering the snake pit she was in before, and surprisingly, it was almost exactly like the room she was in. She was so convinced and so matter-of-fact.
Today I couldn’t find her shoes, which freaked me out since the other place lost her clothes. I tore that room up and couldn’t find them, so I went to get the nurse and on our way back to the room I asked her about the room-moving delusion. She didn’t seem surprised or alarmed, so I am assuming it’s just part of the recovery process. She also found the damn shoes in the wheelchair. *sigh* But while we were looking, MoC said, “They’re probably in that other room.” And I couldn’t tell if she was kidding me. Which is good. I think. I’m not really sure.
We had a long conversation in which she told me that this afternoon, she decided to get up and go to the bathroom. You know what happens next, don’t you? She fell. She’s fine. She’s so damn stubborn. She said she just knew she could make it that far by herself. I asked her if she had called the nurse and she looked like an abashed 6 year old when she told me no. The next few weeks are going to be very hard for her, I think. Then she looked right at me and said, “Patricia, do you have any idea how scary this is?”
No. I don’t. Not really.
When I left, I told her I’d call her to tell her when The Good Wife was on (it wasn’t). She said, “I’ll be here. Unless I’m in that other room. The phone number is probably different.”
I think she was yanking my chain that time.
But I’m not sure.
And that, trust me, is a very good thing.