The woman is bull-headed and incoherent; two traits that really don't work well together. The Dilaudid has her hallucinating and remembering events out of sequence; for instance, she claims that my door was open and that I was sleeping on my lounge. That alleged incident happened yesterday around noon, but I hadn't been sleeping. This sort of thing happens all the time, but it's hard to mention specific examples because it's always so contextual. The problem doesn't lay in her incorrect recollection, but in the fact that she'll continue to argue and will not accept the fact that she isn't remembering things properly.
This gets harder every day. Sleep is becoming an elusive wisp that Danielle and I don't seem to be able to capture. And honestly, I don't see how the medication schedule would create any other situation; the first dosage is at 7AM and the last is around midnight. Danielle works from 6AM to 3PM. I work from 10AM to 10PM. When are my sister and I going to get any sleep at all? I'm also stuck inside the house since I don't have a car and it's impossible for Danielle and Jeff to take me anywhere to run errands or simply get out of the house.
This isn't whining. This isn't complaining. I don't have cancer in my brain so my "plight" compares in no way to my mother's. But maybe if I document all of this, if I write down my feelings and thoughts someone else will find support or strength in my words. I don't think people quite understand the weight they're assuming when they agree to become care-givers to a cancer patient. I know that I didn't. I didn't have a clue.