Waiting and waiting...

Here at NW Hospital with my mother. This is our 5th day here, though I have gone home some to sleep. Mom has suffered a stroke and is now in a coma. Her vital signs are stable. She sleeps peacefully most of the time; at times she moves her legs, raises her feet, kicks off the pink fuzzy socks that Sarah brought her, and she may yawn or even make little noises.

We are awaiting her transfer to Swedish Hospital, where she will be cared for by the Elder Place doctors. I wanted her to stay here at NW, but she should be in good hands at Swedish. They did talk about moving her to a family home or nursing home, but I did not want that for her. You have to speak up about these things.

So I am here waiting. Listening to the sounds of the C wing of this hospital, the little hum that goes on here that can be difficult to get used to.

From time to time I hold mom's hand, stroke her forehead and talk to her.

I'm tired of waiting and tired of seeing my mom in this state. But all I can do is be here with her and for her. It is the easiest thing to do and the hardest thing to do.