My mom fell out of bed today, and smashed her head/face on the floor. She is extremely swollen, and her lip was cut...so there was a lot of blood. Lots of red, black and blue.

She was instantly ill and sleepy, so we're thinking she has a concussion. I stopped the bleeding as best I could. She just keeps crying and crying. We're taking her to the ER now. With the problems she had with her head before, we can't be too careful. She hit her head HARD.

When I was rinsing the blood out of a rag again and again to clean off her face, I just couldn't get over how calm I was. The blood was mixing with the water, turning into a dull brown, the bright red fading away. It swirled around in the white sink and disappeared. Again and again I rung it out, drenched it in cold water to numb the pain. Cleaning out blood clots from her mouth, and the blood running down her chin and neck. Her tears mixed with the blood and dripped onto her night gown. I shushed and calmed her like I would a child. She held onto my wrist and squeezed it.

I pushed her hair back off her forehead and helped her into bed. I propped her up on pillows and tucked her in. Sunnie placed an ice pack on the side of her face, and I held the wash cloth up to her mouth. She cried and moaned, and talked about all of the horrible things that have happened to her.

The tears were sitting at the back of my throat, making it ache with sorrow. You just have to swallow it back and keep on talking. Be calm, be collected, but keep talking. Keep her calm, keep her collected.

"You have a life to lead, Mama. YOU have to lead it, not fear. It's okay to be scared, but you cannot let it lead your life. That's your job. Life doesn't stop being a gift just because it changes. Treasure your gift, Mama. And make sure you're living it."

All these things she's heard before. She still nods, she still says "Yes. Yes." Then she moans out "Oh, Jesus. Help me, Jesus. Why Lord, why? Why me? Why now? Why again?"

I push her hair back again, and dab at the blood around her mouth while wiping her tears away. "Every life is different. Every plan is different. No two people are alike. God has a plan for each one of us. Let go and let God, Mama."

"I know, Corrie. I know. I have."

"No, Mama. If you have, you wouldn't be asking why. Let go and let God, Mama. Let go and let God." Then the racking sobs ensue. I hold her hand and stroke her shoulder. She leans against me and says over and over again "I'm so tired. I'm so scared. I'm so tired. I'm so scared."

"I know, Mama. But you're not alone. You're okay. You're not alone. We're all here with you, and we love you."

All these things she knows by heart, but always has to hear them. She told me once before that she needs me around simply to tell her every day that everything is going to be all right. I told her I can't do that. But I guess I'll do it today.

I feel numb. How many more things can happen before I just stop reacting? I know how to handle it, I know how to put on a brave face and do what i have to do. The night I called the ambulance was pretty much the first time in my life I experienced true panic. I've never been so NOT calm in my entire life.

Well, off I go now. Your prayers are always welcome. Thank you.