Male Attendants at Nursing Home

Mom, I love you and miss you. Every day there are just little things that I want to tell you -- things that I would say if I came home from work, etc. But no longer can I share my life with you. It is painful to me that the person who loved and cared for me the most is no longer on this earth. When I went to see the dentist last week, you were not with me. You were supposed to be. It was an appointment that we had scheduled together, just like we had scheduled several other appointments together over the last couple of years. When the dentist asked me about you, I started crying. I told her the best I could that your last days on this earth were brutal. She consoled me the best she could, and she asked me if sometimes I feel your presence. "No," I admitted, "I just miss her." I feel bad that the only dream I can remember with you in it -- since your death -- is a mundane dream in which I was having a petty disagreement with you. Why couldn't the dream be more meaningful?
  But the thing I wanted to mention here and now is how sorry I am that you had to wear diapers while you were in the nursing home. I am even more sorry that some of the people that changed you were males. Granted they were gentle men and they seemed genuinely to care for you, but I just can't help feeling that it could not have been comfortable for you. Comfort is the wrong word. In the first two weeks after your stroke, you literally screamed whenever you were being changed because it meant that you had to be rolled back and forth, and even before your stroke, that would have been excruciating because of your nerve-damaged skin on your legs. Why did you have to go through this daily ordeal three or four times a day? You did not deserve any of this. But again, I am sorry. I felt hopeless then, and I feel hopeless now.