This post isn't about books. It's about me.
The day before Thanksgiving I fell and tore some ligaments in my foot, and maybe chipped the bone, they aren't sure yet.
So I didn't go home for Thanksgiving, because I am now in a cast and on crutches.
I have also have three severe ear infections one after another, and gone through four rounds of antibiotics in the past two months. The root of this is a cracked tooth. Today, I got two teeth pulled.
Work has been kind of crazy.
But, most tragically, we lost my mother very suddenly and unexpectedly to a heart attack on Monday the 30th. On the day of her funeral, at midnight, we lost my Grandmother.
I loved my mom. We bickered a lot, but we were similar. We had a lot of the same interests, the main one was reading, other were sewing, genealogy, and trashy reality TV. My mom was in her late 50s. She was relatively healthy, she was a smoker, but did not have any major health issues. And as far as we knew, did not have any heart issues.
My grandmother has been in the nursing home for almost two years. She has dementia and/or Alzheimer's, they weren't entirely sure. The nursing home did not do a good job taking care of her. Every other week she had an infection, a new injury or broken bone, and was checked into the hospital twice for bed sore infections and sepsis. My mom worked nights, she would wake up at 6AM, go to the nursing home, get my grandma dressed, take her to the cafeteria for breakfast, sit with her until lunch, take her down for lunch, and sit with her until 2 PM, she would go home, change and go to work until midnight. Then wake up and do it all over again.
She was trying to fill in where the nursing home was failing.
And I think she just wore herself out.
They didn't tell my grandma that my mom had died, they said she was too confused to know anyway. But she was able to attend my mom's funeral, because she passed away eight hours before.
My grandma's death wasn't a shock. In fact, my mom and her brothers had just signed off for an experimental surgery in January that would either cure her, or she wouldn't make it off the table.
My mom's death has torn me apart. I am 25 years old, I didn't go home for Thanksgiving. And I talked to my mom between 2-4 times a day.
This has been the hardest experience of my life.
I'm easing myself back into reading, blogging, and reviewing. I'm still new, and I know that it's important to not just quit because times are hard right now. I have received so much support, and I want to thank everyone. But I wanted to explain what has been going on.
Thanks for reading.