Tedium, and, doctor visits

Life with/near my mother is either crushingly exhausting or simply boring, tedious.

We had a little burst of doctor's appointments last week - eye doctor and her primary care doc.  Her legs were terribly swollen (congestive heart failure, CHF), and couldn't pee, and trouble hearing.  Doc suggested going to cardiologist for her heart, but I reminded him we're on hospice and... if there's nothing to really create a real fix, and no pain to fix, then why go? So, we won't go.

Mostly now, it's tedious punctuated by bursts of drama.  Ho hum then some urgent care for congestive heart failure, then back to tedium.

We have little to say, but just sit together.  I try to come up with something interesting, but even that is unnecessary... she just wants human presence.

Another fall

She has fallen again, on Dec 31 in the evening. This time she was in front of her closet trying to rearrange some clothes.  She fell backward and hit her head.

Last time this happened, CLV called the paramedics and after they assessed her, she refused to go to the hospital.  I spoke to her, and she was coherent and seemed OK.  So, this time CLV didn't call paramedics (per mom's instructions). They called me and called Hospice. Hospice folks came out and assessed her and she was OK.

Over the last few days she has said she felt really really weak.  One day she said she had chest pains.  Yesterday I went to see her and she had been lying on her bed trying to get her pants on (she couldn't pull them up when she was standing); she got one leg in then couldn't manage the other.  She rang her button but no one came for 20 minutes as she lay there cold and frustrated.  She is just weak.

I still visit almost every day. We have little to say but it comforts her.

Saying "Thanks" helps so much...

I love my sister.  Here it is, a year, no, it's two years later, and she still unrelentingly expresses heartfelt appreciation for my efforts.  I feel like maybe I'm being egotistical for it to matter so much to me, but just having someone say Thanks means so much to me.

And Mom does say Thanks too.  She says it very nicely - often she says she doesn't think she could have done this without me.  Well, of course she could have ... Marilyn or Bob would have very willingly had her move closer, though their situations (in varying degrees) aren't as optimal as mine.  Or she could have stayed in Concordia and been cared for.  Still, her appreciation, her recognition of my contributions, also helps a lot.

"I'm being neglected..."

Somehow she thinks that being on hospice means she will have attention 24x7.

She keeps saying, "I'm being neglected" or saying whiney things. Just attention - more attention... more ... insatiable. She says rude things but with a smile like "I'm just kidding" (but rude) to the service providers.

I told her she is absolutely not being neglected. (She listened, and said, "you need to keep telling me that..." which is of course good but also a call for more attention from me...) She's getting all the attention plus some. Other clients of hospice have desperate situations - she doesn't.

More later.

Hospice

Wow - it's been over a year! Things eventually quieted down and created a routine.

But...

After a quick series of four falls and a one-week hospitalization, she returned to CLV much much weaker and more confused. The unit manager suggested we consider hospice.  And, she is now on the highest level of care in the assisted living facility. 

Called in hospice. We are now trying to fathom the tremendous help they offer. It's almost too much to absorb. Nurse Margaret, Aide Cynthia, LPNs Chalitha, Jo, Elsa, and more. Director Cathy. Chaplain Dan. Social worker Floydene. Doctor somebody. Along with the occupational therapist, physical therapist. And they're all coming in to introduce themselves and start their service in the last few days. Most will fade back into just monthly visits.

But wow they offer a lot of services -

• a special mattress (some kind of special air-moving thing to prevent bedsores for really sick folks);
• a hospital bed (goes up/down, legs up, head up etc).
• showers twice a week and/or other hygiene help.
• Transportation - they will take her places - 24x7 if she wants.
• help with meds (reviewing, ordering, and paying for some)
• do blood sugars a couple of times a week
• home visits by the physician, at least once at first and at some interval after
• medicines related to her terminal illness (which is congestive heart failure) - so her copay will be covered for that, but not for diabetes, for instance
• medicines related to her comfort - pain pills
• laundry
• volunteers to come sit with her
• briefs ("Depends")
• physical therapy
• other supplies and needs to aid with her comfort.

amazing. but wow... really overwhelming right now.

It just never ends - the doctor's appointments, hospitalizations, med changes and medicine orders and reorders. Assessments and physical therapy and home health nurses. Insurance companies - their premiums, their claims. And as soon as I think I'm caught up, there are new symptoms and ... new doctors' appointments.

She is grateful. My sister and brother are grateful.

but I'm just so tired. And - my life keeps getting put on hold. My severance pay will run out too soon, and I'm worried.

Dementia diagnosis - and long term care insurance claim

I've been fighting the insurance company to pay for her long term care in her assisted living facility. At long last, I think I understand the issue, or at least the reason for the delay.

My mother's insurer, Bankers Life, will pay a set amount for her long-term-care if she either (1) has deficiencies in at least two of the six "Activities of Daily Living" (ADLs - bathing, dressing, eating, transferring, toileting, continence, and something else), OR, (2) has cognitive impairment. Mom has some trouble with ADLs, or, what are called Instrumental ADLs (more minor activities that contribute to the ability to live successfully, like, ability to dial a phone), but not enough to merit a claim on her insurance policy. She does, however, have cognitive impairment, diagnosed as Dementia by her physician. In the office, he explained that it was the beginning stages of dementia. Still, a dementia diagnosis = insurance claim, in my mind.

I've been submitting this claim without success. I kept getting turned down. I submitted my form, and the assisted living facility has submitted their paperwork.

I found out, however, a couple things: (1) the assisted living facility did not have a diagnosis from the physician for Dementia. Their cognitive assessments score her as 22 out of 30, where dementia would need a score of 20 - therefore to them, she did not have dementia. Furthermore, (2) if she DID have their version of (full) dementia, she would not be able to live there at all, since she is insulin-dependent and they do not provide that level of nursing care.

Hmm. That explains the bruises on my forehead as I've beat my head on this brick wall.

I did, however, bring the latest Bankers form to the director of the facility, and showed them that they ask whether the DOCTOR diagnosed her with a cognitive impairment. I showed the director the doctor's diagnosis. So, I'm hopeful that the facility can now submit the paperwork that might allow for the insurance claim.

If only I'd known this six, eight, ten months ago. I didn't even know what to ask. It all seemed so obvious to me.

So, we now await the director submitting the papers and the response from Bankers.

April brings May showers but also new diagnosis...

The Long Term Care insurance company declined the first application, not surprisingly I guess (cynical) so we re-submitted with more careful work from the doctor. When we were in the doctor's office (so I could personally oversee his filling out the form), he said aloud her diagnosis - dementia.

Mom's reaction was swift.

"Dementia?" But he explained it very nicely, that at her age, it's the body's way of helping her to let go, to lose track, and with good support around her, it is not really a problem. It's OK to let it happen.

So, she starts to giggle. She LOVED it! As she went back to her home, she stopped people in the halls - some she barely knew - and said, "My doctor just diagnosed me with the early stages of dementia!", accompanied by waves of giggles.

Yep. Exactly so.

And, during April we've had one (or was it two?) hospitalizations. She went in for atrial fibrillation that wouldn't stop. And her cardiac cath, but I think I've already described that.

I finally got a three-month supply of her meds. That will ease the complexity of all these last-minute refills.

She's also had daily low-blood-sugar events. We brought her to an endocrinologist for her diabetes, who adjusted her insulin dosage and asked for more readings of her blood sugars. The 'home' will help administer and log those - at $10 a pop, it will end up at $600 a month, but perhaps we only need to keep that rigid of records for a month or six weeks. But it's worth it - she utterly could not keep track of that many sticks.

I had her out for a family dinner last night with my friends from Colorado and my kids and grandkids. It was loud and raucous and fun - she mostly sat there, interacted when prompted, then just enjoyed being around people. About 7:00 she was ready to go home.

We have discussed getting a wheel chair (for outings, to conserve her energy and speed up the travel) and a walker (for walking outside of the home, since the home has railings everywhere). She was open to it. Now I just have to figure out how to get them (with Medicare). Sigh.

wow... it's March already...

I've had a few other distractions... work, personal stuff... and things quieted down into a routine. Time to come chat since there has been some news.

About a month ago, my company offered a voluntary separation package as part of a layoff effort. I took it. Just too much to try to handle stress of mom and stress of work. Although mom tends to settle into a routine, the routine is one of a constant stream of neediness. Often small things ... but, 'often' is the operative word there. More on that another post.

Last week, she had a second event with chest pressure, and a second trip to the emergency room. They admitted her, did a nuclear stress test which revealed abnormality, and then scheduled a cardiac cath for the next day. Upon doing that, it revealed a 60% blockage, but over a lengthy area of one artery, and other lesser blockages in others. Just treating with meds.

We ordered the new meds, and they came before I could get there to put them in the pill boxes, so she was going to do it. When I got there, I found that she had doubled up on the Detrol erroneously, but NOT put in the new pills. Sigh.

And, last night I got the results of the insurer's review of her application for benefits for long term care. They denied it. Just said she wasn't cognitively impaired nor was she physically unable to do ADLs. But - her doc said she had dementia.

After I called them, I was told that the doctor's statements lacked some dates, or details. (why couldn't they have just said that? sigh). I will try, try again.

Don't obsess... don't obsess... don't obsess..

My sis says I need to give myself a break. I tend to obsess (yep, so true). If insurer pays or doesn't, just don't sweat it.

At my job, I'm a high-performing program manager. I manage complex programs/projects with lots of moving parts. Yes, I get stressed, but I handle it.

Yet this has got me flummoxed. You should see my own desk at home. Eeks. Too bad I'm not so good at applying work skills inside my own home.

I fantasize of a well-ordered, simpler life. Where things are in their places, where things get done on time. Where piles don't exist and to-do lists are short and quickly dispatched.

Yeah, right.

(of course, you KNOW that on my other screen, I am researching ADLs. groan)

don't obsess.... don't obsess... don't obsess... (that's my new obsession. haha)

arrggghh - the Paperwork Monster...

Over the last months, I have been working at moving all her bills and business contacts over to her new address, and, autopayments over to her new bank accounts. It's unbelievably frustrating.

There are her phone bills (former home bill, new home phone bill, long distance, and mobile). Her internet service provider - both ending the old one, and setting up and paying for the new one. Numerous medical insurers, as well as doctors, hospitals, both in her former address and her new location. Change social security payments and providers and payees. Change investment accounts.

There is just the matter of finding out all those accounts. When I took over for her, she had proudly delivered her box of important papers - but, I found that she stopped filing in about 2004. She also had sheaves of papers scattered around in corners and piles, evidence of important contacts but all in a muddle. Some I discovered when looking at her old bank account, and finding auto-deductions for services.

Also, since I'm not HER, I am required, appropriately, to provide proof that I can speak for her. Finally, one at a time, I am getting my name on her account, but I doubt if I'm halfway through the list.

Just as an example - I was getting her Medicare prescription drug coverage plan changed to the new address, and, changed to her new bank. I called several times, then spent 45 minutes slowly and meticulously giving someone all her information. That person gave me a case number, then needed to transfer me to a licensed agent. I got transferred to the wrong place, then got disconnected. AARRGGHH. But I thought, no problem, I have a case number and can pick up with relative ease. However, when I called back and finally got through to a licensed agent for our state, there was none of the information I'd provided that was included in the case number. I spent another HOUR on that phone call. Two hours total. During work hours. So, I had to work until 11 that night to make up for the time lost.

Today I work on applying for benefits from her long-term-care insurance. I'd sent out sections to her physician and her Assisted Living facility. I'm nervous because I found paperwork that her former doctor had filled out, saying that she had no problem with any of the "ADLs" (activities of daily living - continence, dressing, transferring, etc) which could mean a denial of the application for benefits. However, that doctor never was informed about the fact that she has frequent continence problems, she leaves poop on her toilet seat, she started fires when she prepared her own meals, and had frequent low-blood-sugar episodes because in her independent-living situation, she snacked constantly instead of good meals. And, with her existing care in Assisted Living housing, she no longer has some of those problems (no kitchen fires since she has no kitchen; fewer medical emergencies because she takes her meds regularly with help of the staff). I will submit the application but I'm concerned that her old doctor's opinion may give the insurer a reason to deny the claim.

Then there is the other to-do list:

• get a handicapped placard so that when we go out, she can walk less.
  
• get her an identification card so that when she flies or writes checks, she has local ID.
  
• pick up an ink cartridge for her printer.
  
• bring hammer and nails to her apartment to put up the clock.
  
• order the lighted magnifier on a stand.
  
• order her diabetic supplies.
  
• every weekend, go over and set out her pills.
• get stuff out of storage that may freeze, or, that she may need.
  

AND - groan - in a week or two she will move to a new apartment, a 1-bedroom. And I will need to change ALL the addresses again. And, that will create a new to-do list of emptying out storage and stopping that payment. And putting up pictures and putting things away.

I feel overwhelmed. I have my own challenges - we just found that our own credit card was being used fraudulently in Florida, so we had to cancel and get new ones. And for my OWN bills with autopay, I must go thru them again and change the card#. And our own office is piled high with disorganized papers and work we're trying to do. We have our own printer that needs fixing. Seems everywhere I look there is a to-do list. And my job... very highly stressful. Eeks indeed.

Well, like eating an elephant, I guess I'll just do it one bite at a time. And let the rest of the work just wait until I can get to it. We are warm and she is cared for and life will go on.

So, life has settled mostly into a routine at this point. On weekends, I set out her pills for the week. I usually take her out shopping once a week. During the week, I stop by after work about 4 days, and call daily. I take her to some of her doctor's appointments, though she does have rides from the center as well.

There are still tasks to be done but they are not time-critical. I need to go to a lawyer to see what papers need to be updated. Get her an identification card. Change some auto-payments to her new bank account. File insurance papers. Pay her bills. Sort through her storage unit to find what needs to be brought in from the cold, what needs to be moved to the adult family who is designated to receive her excess items. Move things into her apartment. There are more, but those are the routine.

Less drama. More routine. Just a relentless awareness of her needs.

Wow - I missed all of November! But I'm back... and things have quieted down for the most part.

There was the explosion in Target store - an outing with my sister and our husbands and Mom. Mom had been rude, snipey, especially to me. I just gritted my teeth over and over. Finally, in Target, she literally yelled, nastily, and I walked away. I kept trying to come back calmed down, but I then had to walk away again (she was oblivious, as the jewelry counter person was adjusting a watchband). Finally, I came back, and I told her (heatedly but controlled and quiet) that she could NOT talk to me that way. That I deserved better. That everyone was absolutely bending over backwards FOR HER, and she needed to treat others with respect and kindness, not like a spoiled child. She was shocked, and responded OK. We went back to my sister's house, and talked further. Since then, she has occasionally been snipey, but she has quickly adjusted or apologized.

She is still in her studio apartment in Assisted Living. She was offered a one-bedroom unit which has a nice view though not as ideal as her present one. She told them she would take it - then debated changing her mind. She asked for me to help with the decision, but I refused to take a stand, I just talked through the options with her.

Still, she tells my sister: "Sometimes I feel like a pawn, without any decisions of my own. Nancy is so capable and so strong willed ( I raised her?) that I can't remember that I do have an opinion, too." Fortunately, my sister understands what's happening, and doesn't buy it. Mom as victim. Mom as helpless. Hmmm not so much.

Frustrating too is this helpless role she has taken. It's particularly frustrating because she chooses to be helpless - she gives up on attempting anything that would challenge her. She won't read because "I'm blind". No, Mom, you're not blind, though you do have some challenges with your vision which could be aided by magnifiers and better lighting. But when we try to get her better magnifiers, she balks and complains. "Send it back!" Then she plays victim and helpless. Groan. Sigh. Grr.

More later.

The shopping trip that should never have been....

oh brother what a disaster. (Warning - this is a long whining venting post about yesterday's shopping trip.)

OK, so she's not taking the new 1BR apartment, so we really didn't need to shop. But, we had talked about it a lot, and I thought, let's have an outing to get her out of there, and why not Nebraska Furniture Mart? Then when she DOES get offered a lakeview apartment, I can just go select her preferences without her having to come. She said she'd really like to go, so off we went.

One other background thing - with her permission, I had ordered and brought over the pink flowery bedspread? She kept saying she just didn't know how it would look, so that's why she didn't want it. I figured, with her eyes maybe she just needs to see it in person. She agreed. So, it arrived and I brought it over for her to look at and think about on Friday.

So we pick her up about 1:30 in the afternoon on Saturday. Drive to NFM.

First we go to the desks. Nothing really seems to make her happy. But not unhappy either. And then she snappily says she does NOT want to get anything today. Period.

OK, so that's decided. OK, well, not decided.

Time to go to look at what beds are available. On our (slow, shuffling) way through the cavernous store, she told me she wanted me to send back the bedspread. "I know I've told you all about the pink cabbage roses, but I like my plain blue blanket. It's simple. It's what I know." (Then later, she says something about how she DOESN'T know if she wants it or not).

Something in me just snapped. Just a bit.

Then we walked around the beds and it was CLEAR, absolutely CLEAR, that there was nothing she was interested in seeing. She didn't want a bedstead with a footboard because it's not what she has always had. She made mocking comments about them. Expensive. Fancy. too light, too dark. or mostly she just walked by them, unseeing. And, I had lost patience inside, though I was trying to stay positive. I just didn't have it in me to alter the mood, and she wasn't about to be altered anyway.

Somewhere while we walked around the beds, it really really snapped. I was ready to walk away and drive home without her. (Please know I never would...)

Anyway... my own internal life-lessons:

1) don't go on a shopping outing unless there is a immediate need. A 'have to'.
2) if we go on a shopping outing, bring water. (She had an "I need water NOW" episode in the middle of the beds.)
3) her room is HER room. If she wants to trash it with heaps of 'used-once' clothes, let her. if she wants a threadbare blanket, let her. etc etc
3a) (but... to #3) But if I WANT to fix up her room, why not? She highly praised these other women's daughters who came in and fixed up their rooms carte blanche. if that's so wonderful for them, why shouldn't I? Maybe she'd end up loving it.
4) if she doesn't want a pretty bed (nice headboard, footboard), why should I care? It's not like we have people lining up to get it when she dies. Full beds aren't big on anyone's wish list.
4a) (but... to #4) But if I WANT to see a nice bedframe, etc, as I care for her, why not? There are loads of nice bedframes on sale that would really make her room look FINISHED. To look like a adult's home instead of a dorm room. Or a 7-year-old's room.

I wonder how much of this attitude of 'oh that's good enough' is actually due to a sense of waiting to die? Why bother getting a bedspread if I'm just waiting to die. On the other hand - maybe that is a normal and even healthy and appropriate phase as one nears death. Acceptance. I don't know anymore. And it doesn't really matter. And maybe it's the comfort of seeing things that are familiar. I think I should bring back the white nubby bedspread, or, the orange/green bedspread when she gets her full bed - that will let her feel comfortable and 'at home'.

Anyway, we got water, we drove homeward in annoyed semi-silence. (She had said something to recognize that she was a pill; I said something that we'll get through it, I just want to help you, blah blah blah). We stopped at the store for some items then brought her home in good time for dinner (5PM).

Good news - she did a lot of walking around and no incontinence incidents. No close calls even. Not even any potty breaks (another source of annoyance to me - we were by a bathroom and she wouldn't go 'just in case', even after her history of diarrhea incidents - sounds like a 3-year-old, eh?). And, I put out her meds yesterday so I don't have to come by today. And, the cable/internet comes by today so she can get better service and simpler email. Another good thing - she said she never gets hungry now, like she used to in BV. She recognized that she used to snack all day long, but here (with real meals) she never thinks about snacking.

Enough already. Will this ever get better?

My brother, the golden boy

So, my brother, when invited to help, says how 'lucky' my sister and I are to live close. I am just a few minutes a way, and my sister is a 3.5 hour drive. Yep, lucky. He lives farther (a 14-hour drive, he says; actually a bit over 12). Or, there are planes (a flight starts at a mere $198).

But ...

There is no wisp of an offer to help. Not even an inquiry as to how the work is going. No recognition that he is one-third of this woman's family. He just says we're 'lucky' and sees himself as off the hook, any hook.

He is in complete receive-mode. "Feed me". I have sent him (and my sister) numerous email to let them know what's happening here. Silence. Sent an aerial photo of the home; he wrote (a very rare email) and said thanks, that it helps him visualize it. It's all about him.

He did just write that he will be in town on a business trip. He will try to make it to dinner and maybe some time the next day before flying out. Nothing about staying any extra time, even a vacation day, to spend some time with her or (gasp) do some work. And, costs him nothing. As long as it all fits conveniently into his schedule of priorities (work, church, his own family), as long as his mother can accommodate his own self-important world, he will spend a bit of time with her. As long as someone else pays - his work pays for the flight, his sisters pay with their sweat and a great, great deal of time.

And the really really REALLY irksome thing is that he will now feel like he's participated, and Mom will rave about seeing her wonderful son. Grrrrrr.

A month ago, I was in the midst of all the effort to move her here, taking my vacation days to sort through her stuff, to pack boxes, to move furniture, etc. She made a snipey comment about how my emails to her were short, as were my brother's. I got right in her face and calmly but very directly reminded her that I called her almost daily, and that I have taken my personal time and expenses to come see her and do all this work for her, and that I had committed to support her for the rest of her years. WHERE IS HE? Oh, yeah, hmm, not here. Nowhere. She apologized, but when does the glow of firstborn golden boy grow a bit dim with lack of any real contribution?

Grr.

woo hoo! A night off!

I took off last night, and may even take off Friday night! WOO HOO!

Learned tonight that AOL does not offer just basic webmail. You have to put up with their mega-advertising and constant popups and multiple windows. So, we'll dump them. Ugh. Too bad all the tech folks I asked earlier in the week, when I spent 2.5 hours struggling with it (and, the folks prior to that, at least another two hours). never got around to telling me that there's no way to avoid their constant stream of AOL-iana.

Yay! A dinner and movie with my dear, patient husband. :)

A corner of the outside, all her own.

She loved her back yard perch from her old place. She would sit on the plastic chair and look out at the courtyard.

I wish the new place had a sitting-outside spot that was her very own. There are chairs that look westward, toward the sunset, but it's not her very own nook.

Still, the new view from her window is a lovely vista, better than the old view. She has admired the sunsets many times.

Food hoarding and cleanliness

So, my mother is fed breakfast, lunch and dinner. She has select snack foods in her apartment. The home offers afternoon snacks.

I wonder how long it takes before she lets go of the habit of hoarding food? Do any of her generation ever lose that?

She is a child of the depression. Still, she keeps curdled milk, bananas that are rotten and spawning gnats, crackers that are completely crumbled.

The good news is that she has not had any of the explosive diarrhea incidents since moving here. I wonder how many of those incidents were related to bad food or unclean surfaces? Maybe she will be much relieved now of that disturbing problem.

I did some dishes last night, including washing a water glass in her bathroom that had come directly from her old apartment. After soaking it in dishsoap, I saw that there was a big layer/clot of ick at the bottom. I wonder how long it had been since washing it? How much of that (and the filth on poorly-washed dishes) also contributed to her 'incidents'. Her macular degeneration and general carelessness contributes to poor cleanliness. Maybe living here will help.

I hope so. We ALL hope so, believe me.

Changing relationships... Part Two-Dot-Five

Well, I apologized to my sister. I let her know she is so valuable, treasured. My relationship with her is actually more important since it is more long-term that with our mother. I thanked her for teaching me how to get through this together and asked her to continue teaching me and communicating.

She replied with an apology too ... that it is her own grieving over a diminishing relationship. Not that I am reducing it, but that Mom's own disappearing ability (to play canasta, to write an email, to even think clearly) is making her less able to connect. (And she said it actually was nice to hear about Mom's day in full sentences and without the illegible errors, so I should continue typing on Mom's behalf if it's convenient.)

Is it Mom's mental laziness? or is old age 'breaking' something in ways that are now irreparable? How much control do we have over our ability fight the ravages of old age?

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Changing relationships... Part Two

Eeks - I blew it.

For years, my sister has been extremely EXTREMELY loyal and regular at having a daily email exchange with Mom. And Mom has written back each day. They both look forward to it - it's a way of connecting them. Something personal, intimate (I realize now). And, with my taking on this new role, it is perhaps even more important for my sister to have this special way to continue to have her own relationship. In fact, for years my sister's support and relationship with our mother was much stronger than mine (or our brother's) , to a large extent tied to these daily emails.

While I was at my mother's today, I tried to set up her computer to do emails more easily. (When she moved here, we signed her up for an email program that has a really confusing interface; I'm trying to simplify it). I noticed that she had started an email but got distracted; I offered to have her dictate it to me to get it sent. Then when I did that, I noticed another one that she'd started and not sent, so I sent it too.

I mentioned that to my sister this afternoon. She was frustrated (is that the word? hurt? annoyed?). Those emails were the direct connection with Mom, the only connection that (as of last week) doesn't have me in the middle. They are special, a gift. And when I type for Mom, I get in the middle. She said that if Mom can't type it, then she should call.

I get it. I'm sad/hurt that I screwed it up for her. She recognized that it was with good intentions. And I won't do that again. I just wouldn't hurt her for the world.

It scares me that somehow my relationship with her may get 'broken' somehow. We talked about this before the big move. She needed to be honest about some of her feelings; I did too. We needed to be sure we didn't step on each other's toes. And she totally assured me that our relationship won't 'break'.

Still, I get afraid. Sad.