I’m back in the emergency room with mom. She had a fall and they expect to find a broken hip. As I await the X-ray results, I’m worried about the coming choice I will face.
I’ve been here before with dad. He was in good health but a little forgetful before he fell on the racquetball court. He returned physically but his cognitive issues were undeniable after surgery.
Mom at least recognizes me most days. The waiting has me imagining the worst. Last year pain medication landed mom in hospice. How will she fare with the morphine? What if she needs surgery? It’s these moments and choices we all fear. Dreaded.