And now, the end is near.

Matt left today after a week’s visit, hence my radio silence. And now I lie here listening to Mum howl and whimper her way through a bath and I wonder how much longer either of us can put up with this. She’s got no strength or control over her body any more but she won’t accept help. She’ll sit and cry on the toilet because she can’t get her pyjamas back on instead of just calling and asking for a hand and it makes me so angry. And then I feel like an absolute fucking psychopath because I’m angry!

I think it’s getting to the point where I won’t be qualified to look after her soon. I can’t bathe her and I can’t clean her after the toilet. It’s not something I’m trained to do and it’s not something I particularly want to do. The doctor tells me Mum needs a daughter. She may need a nurse too, but you can’t blur that line. Plenty of people can look after her, but only I can be her daughter. That’s something I have to keep reminding myself of when I feel like I’m letting her down by not being sure how much longer I can look after her.

I began looking at the Hospice properly today. I need to call them tomorrow and organise a visit. I just want somebody with a degree in nursing to tell me that it’s too much work for me now. Please?

And now, the end is near.

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