Over the past week, every evening, a dozen times, I think, “I should call Mom.”. Or “I should tell Mom.”

But I can’t. She’s unconscious in a hospital room.

We all hope she’ll come back to herself. Have some semblance, some pleasure in life.

The doctor in charge of her pain medications has decided that she’s too confused for strong pain medications. So they’ve been giving her pills. Except that the pills have been few and far between. And the betweens have been filled with her suffering. And her suffering spreads out through her family like the rings from stone thrown into water.

Hospitals have gone, in my mind, from places of healing to places where my loved ones go to die.

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