More holiday complications

I drove to Jackson on Wednesday to talk to Mama in person about why she wants to live, only to to learn about the need for emergency surgery today.
It seems to never end.
The CEO of Specialty Select Hospital called me on Wednesday to tell me about Mama saying she no longer wanted to live. He strongly recommended I  drive back to the hospital as soon as possible. After speaking to him, I called Mama's room.
"I have thought about it for some time and made up my mind," Mama announced to me. "I want to die--I'm tired of fighting all of this."
She apologized for being a burden.
"I know you'll have to take care of the funeral costs," she said. "I hope you can sell my house and reimburse yourself. I'm sorry I've been so much of a burden."
I told her she wasn't a burden and wasn't going to die anytime soon, that she would continue to regain her strength. On Monday and Tuesday, Mama began physical therapy, showing signs of improvement. However, after nearly a month of hospitalization and complications associated with her condition, she reached a point where she wanted to give up.
One of her physicians later told me steroids she takes makes people more susceptible to depression, which comforted me, knowing chemicals may have encouraged her depression made me feel better.
I drove back to Starkville on Tuesday night to meet with the owner of the house I will move into by the end of the month. Since Thanksgiving, my life has been on hold, including essential duties, such as making arrangements to move. I'm not complaining, just explaining.

"I haven't changed my mind," she said

Walking into Mama's hospital room, I saw a nurse practitioner assigned to make sure she didn't hurt herself.
"I haven't changed my mind," Mama said, looking in my direction and then turning away.
After spending a few minutes discussing with her how "we" would get better, would continue to gain strength and work on standing and moving, she seemed to soften her position.
"You're so close to standing up and walking again," I told her.
She told me that during the previous night that hospital staff "took their time" when she called them for assistance, whether to change her or when machines next to her bed made noise.
"They just keep beeping all night," Mom said.

Another complication

Minutes later, one of her physicians entered the room to tell us that her perforated bowel had worsened to the point of her needing emergency surgery, requiring her to transfer to another hospital.

University Medical Center, where she had been before, didn't have any hospital rooms available. Neither did Baptist Medical Center.

She arrived at Central Mississippi Medical Center in Jackson, the hospital's intensive care unit, around 11 p.m. on Wednesday. When I saw her, she complained about intense pain in her stomach. She spent the night in another hospital with more uncertainty.

I spent the night in another waiting room, just waiting.