Ok, so fast forward to spring. My mother is still going downhill and is put into the hospital.  My sister went with to the emergency room. When she described the events, it sounded like my father was really stressed out and losing it. When I talked to him, he was surprisingly upbeat and all the more 'with it'. I went to see her the next day or so and it was really scarry. She couldn't sit up or feed herself. She did not want to eat. The physical therapy evaluation was pretty bad. But of course, if they got her to the point where she could walk, where would she go? Would she wander out of the house or turn the stove on? My father was so affectionate and attentive. One staff member called them 'love birds'.

My sister happened to be there when her doctor came to see her. My sister revealed (if it's true because who can believe a word she says) that when she was around 17, my mother showed her where some sleeping pills were. She allegedly told her that if she ever got to be in the shape my grandfather was in, that she should feed her the pills. She says that my mother wouldn't let her leave the room until she agreed.  The time seems a bit early chronologically, but again, I don't think we can believe much of what she says. In addition to her current state, she has been a legendary exaggerator since her fist day of  h.s. when she came home with overblown impersonations of her teachers.

So, to shorten the tale, my sister says that the doctor agrees that it's not a good idea to try to keep her alive by artificial means. Getting her to eat anything was only accomplished with great effort on my father's part. The hospital staff could not get her to eat at all (surprise). The decision is made not to insert a feeding tube. Let me repeat that it was always my mother's fear that she would end up like this. My mother, not a glamorous beauty, would always get very flustered if someone came to the door when her hair was not fixed or her makeup was not on. She lived in fear that we would see her without her dentures. When I think of how we and the world see her now....I shudder.

If my sister is telling the truth, it must be just awful for her to go through life knowing that she did not fulfill my mother's final wish. Glad I'm not in her shoes. In sooooo many ways.  I really hate to admit it, but my mother is in a locked Alzheimer's unit.  I honestly, truthfully, confess it right here.  The first time I passed through that door, I thought, "Wow, someone in my family is on a locked unit   AND IT ISN'T ME!! Who would have *thunk* it? AND, while we're on the subject, considering my sister, I'm not the most whacked out member of the family.  Again I ask you, would have thunk it? More on...MUCH MORE ON my sister's mental health is to come. The first time that I recognized that something truly was wrong.....I speculate on what disorder(s) she actually has...