January 19, 2012
My mom called yesterday morning, crying, because she felt so terrible. She had trouble explaining her symptoms beyond mere nausea, although she admitted to being up the night before using the bathroom. I couldn't drive her to the hospital because I would have missed work, again. This has been a regular occurence more and more frequently. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to vent. I felt the heat. But left with the thought of taking care of her or myself, I'm increasingly forced to put myself first and I feel awful that I no longer have a choice.