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“Mrs. Hastings, your husband already looks much better than he did even a few hours ago. The surgery went extremely well. We placed rods in his upper femur to secure the hip and didn’t experience any hiccups. We will keep him here for a few nights to monitor.”

“So happy to hear that, thank you for taking good care of my husband.” Mom’s voice is thick with emotion.

“Of course. I’m glad that I was the one on-call today.” Drew gestures to the woman behind him. “Let me introduce you to Mrs. Neal. The hospital has assigned her to be your case manager. I’ll be back in the morning to check-in, unless you have questions for me?”

“No questions right now. We’ll see you in the morning,” Dad croaks as he gives Mom’s hand a squeeze.

Once Drew leaves, Mrs. Neal takes a step forward. She’s a stern-looking woman. “As Dr. Reed mentioned, I’m Mrs. Neal, and I’ve been assigned as your case manager. I’m here to discuss future care.” She pauses as she hands a packet of brochures to my parents. “It’s our professional opinion that you set up round-the-clock care from this point forward. Mr. Hastings, since you’re 75 and have several health concerns needing to be monitored, we recommend an in-home nurse or assisted living. Occupational therapy will also be required for your hip.”

Tears fill my Mom's eyes. “Assisted living? Surely there are other options.”

Mrs. Neal gives my Mom an empathetic smile, lightening her face considerably. “The decision is up to you and your family, of course. I know this isn’t what anyone wants to hear, but we want to make sure that you’re taken care of. The brochures I gave you should help you with the decision.”

She pauses for a moment. “Another thing I’d like to suggest is giving your child, or perhaps a close friend, power of attorney for you both. Someone who can help make medical and financial decisions if the need arises. Here’s my card with all of my contact information. Please don’t hesitate to call with any questions.” She leans forward and gives Mom her business card.

Once she leaves the room, my mom finally breaks down, releasing the tears she has probably been holding back all day. I rush to her side and wrap my arms around her. Something my Dad taught me years ago is that sometimes in life, there are no words to say and no fixing to be done. In those moments, it’s okay to just be there for someone in silence. So that’s what I do. I simply hold her until she calms down.

Once she’s calm, she looks up at me with desperation in her eyes. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Odette.”

I grab a pad of paper and pen out of my purse. “Okay, let’s hash this out. What do you guys have in savings? I mean, if you’re comfortable talking about this with me.”

“Of course, sweetie.” Mom massages her temples. “We’ve almost completely depleted our retirement savings between the bills from your dad’s stroke and having to repair the sewer line in the house last winter.”

My mind is reeling. How can their savings be gone? I know when Dad sold his book store the profit was much less than they’d hoped for, but I had no idea things were this bad. I take a deep, steadying breath. “What about Social Security? You guys get that, right?”

Dad shakes his head from the hospital bed. “I was self-employed, so we only get a thousand dollars a month. Knowing what I know now, I would’ve paid more into Social Security to set us up better for retirement.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “But when you’re young, you don’t really think about those things.”

I blink a few times, trying to mask my deepening concern.

Mom bursts into tears all over again. “Our financial situation has weighed so heavily on me this past year. We didn’t want to burden you with the details, but I suppose we really do need help figuring this out. Would you be willing to be our power of attorney?”

“Of course.” I put my hand on her shoulder, blinking back tears. “I moved back to help, after all. Why don’t you let me take over the finances completely, so you can just focus on Dad?”

She puts her hand on top of mine. “We can’t thank you enough.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t more careful.” Dad hangs his head. “I feel like I have been nothing but a burden to you both in the past year.”

Mom moves to his bedside and brings her hand up to cradle his face in her palm. “You stop that kind of talk. It has been my greatest joy to care for you all these years. In sickness and in health, remember?”

A lump forms in my throat. “You just focus on getting better, Dad. I’ll figure something out.”

At one o’clock in the morning, I arrive back home by myself. There was nothing I could do to convince Mom to come home with me. She wouldn’t leave Dad’s side. Maybe she’ll miraculously get some sleep on the uncomfortable pull-out bed in the hospital room, but I doubt it.

I take a quick shower and put on my comfiest pajamas. Despite my complete exhaustion after today’s events, though, sleep doesn’t come.

Finally, I give up and pad back out to the living room to find something to clean. When I enter the main part of the house, my eyes land on the only item out of place: my purse. I threw it on the table when I arrived home, causing the brochures from the case manager to spill out. Grabbing my laptop from the kitchen counter, I sit down at the table, open the brochures, and begin my research.

After hours of pouring over the brochures, Googling links on my MacBook, and guzzling copious amounts of coffee, I’ve finally written our three best options down:

One: See if the bank will give us a loan to update the house and make it safe for Dad.

He’ll need a wheelchair ramp to replace the stairs out front, a handicap-accessible shower, and rails in the bathrooms and hallway. And those are just the beginning of the corrections we would need. I consider what Mom told me about their finances today and breathe a heavy sigh. The bank will almost certainly reject their loan application. Rubbing my eyes, I look down at the second option.

Two: Sell the house and move my parents into an assisted living home.

I sigh again. This one seems just as unlikely as the first. The good places are expensive, and since my parents’ house isn’t paid off, they would hardly make enough money from the sale to settle their existing debts.

In a fit of exasperation around 5:00 AM, I jotted down the third option: go with option two, but sell a kidney and get a full-time job to afford the best place for my parents.