Scare

Tonight I was taking a bath, and Moma knocked on the door and asked if her "walking stick" was in the bathroom. I told her that it wasn't. I took my bath and the next thing I knew Kerry was calling me. I ran to the living room where he was standing over Moma. She was on the floor and completely out of it. He had heard her fall, and tried to get her up and she kept going down. We finally got her to her room, but I couldn't get her to talk to me or look at me. Her eyes were rolled back in her head and I thought she was dead. Kerry ran to call Sherry (our medical directory). She came down and by then Moma was throwing up. She had messed up her diaper with "you know". The smell was horrible. I was gagging (I don't do well with that). Finally, Sherry diagnosed the problem. IMPACTION! Gaaaa-rrrooooooosssssss! Of course this was after she had messed up all her clothes, and we had taken her to the bathroom and put her in the bathtub and it was oozing out of her like faucet. I realize this is graphic, but I have to be honest. Living with an elderly person is many times NASTY! Sherry had to dig it out while she was telling Moma to "push". (I had my back turned and was gagging). Then she had to address the bad skin tears from her fall. Then she cleaned her up, and we had to double her diaper. I dressed her while Sherry cleaned up the commode. I got her to the bed and covered her up. She should sleep good. I HATE THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHY WON'T GOD TAKE HER HOME AND RELIEVE HER????? I know it is not mine to ask why, but I hate seeing her this way! I never want to burden my kids with the completely disgusting nature of being old.