"As i watch your breath i say to myself one day this will all end"

After a day of worrying and not focusing on anything else, i found myself at Julias house on the phone to my father. He said she was doing fine, but doped up, he said he'd put the phone to her ear and i could talk to her. I wasn't even remotly keen on the plan, but i knew it would make her happy. So i said 'hi mummy, i just want to say that i love you very much, i am incredibly proud of you, and that daddy tells me the docter says that you are doing wonderfully.' I had been told that she couldnt talk, so i expected silence, but what i heard is still echoing through my ears. Have you ever watched a movie and seen people being tortured? The sound they make is haunting and creepy, its like a wordless yell for help. She made that noise, it terrified me. I didn't know what to say back, and i had no clue what she had tried to say so i replied 'yes, i totally agree, i love you too....' and said i had to go. And then i hung up and started to cry. not much, i was mostly scared.
Later it was decided that i would sleep at julias house. dad told me he would go home, but I knew he'd sleep at the hospital. i tried to do my french homework as Julia talked online. But slowly tears began to roll down my cheek. Not wanting to draw attention to myself i tried to cry very quietly, but i knew that there was no point in trying to stop. Then Julia talked to me and i couldnt help it i started to bawl, hysterically cry my eyes out. To the point where i made wierd noises. I just wanted my mother, that was it. I realized i wouldnt have my mother properly for 6 weeks, and thats too long not to have a mother. I needed her to hug me and tell me it would all be alright. thats why i was crying, not because i dreaded the next 6 weeks of taking care of her, but that the 6 weeks have started and i wont be able to shop with her, spend any lengths of time with her, even talk to her for 6 weeks.
Dad showed me 12 hours worth of her notes to him. She has to write notes because she cant speak. She is exactly the same, commenting on how the nurses outfit was a horrible shade of green, and how she wanted a margerita. at one point my dad said to her that her profile looked amazing and my mum wrote 'yes, but the front a fucking disater!' I dont know if knowing that she is still the same on the inside makes me feel better or worse. i imagined her as being unable to think as well as talk, i imagined her as a vegetable, but she's not. She's exactly the same.
She comes home on saturday. Im dreading it. How can i look at someone i love so much who is clearly in so much pain and discomfort who doesn't even look like the person i love so much?