Spent most of today with Mom at the hospital.
Mom has been more "herself" today than she has been in a couple of weeks. The doctors and physical therapists are cautiously optimistic, and she got up and moved around a little today, which was very significant.
Pain control is better but not perfect, and they are still trying to find the right balance between giving her enough medication to control her pain while still allowing her to remain in possession of (most of her) faculties.
Tomorrow (Saturday) if all goes according to plan, she is going to be transferred to a "skilled care facility" (they don't call them "nursing homes" any more.) She will do at least four weeks of physical therapy, probably more like six to eight; how many of them will be at that facility is yet to be determined. She'll be there a couple of weeks minimum, that's for sure.
I have been racking my brain for ways to make her temporary new home more comfortable. So many friends and relatives have asked about sending flowers or candy or something - well, not much sense in that, since she can't see the flowers, and due to her diabetes she mostly can't eat the candy. But I did get a little hint from her today about something she might enjoy...
When she was giving me my marching orders about what to buy and what to pack (she simply could not go to rehab without a new bathrobe and some new bedroom slippers! Thank God for the grandmotherly ladies in the lingerie department at Belk's) she also asked me to pack up the little portable CD player/radio that I gave her for Christmas last year. And some audiobooks. And a gazillion AA batteries.
A little light went on in my head. She *loves* audiobooks, as it's the only way she can "read" these days. And she likes music, too.
We have an ample supply for her to start out with (she's going to be listening to "Freakonomics" for openers) but she's going to have a lot of time on her hands; if anybody out there in blogland has recommendations for audiobooks that would be enjoyed by a bright, 75 year-old retired librarian and former voracious reader who needs a diversion, sing out.
Dad is, well, about the same. I had to fire a new nursing aide who showed up today apparently under the influence of one or more drugs; he came into the house, made himself a sandwich and promptly fell asleep for eight hours.
We have been blessed with particularly good help for the most part, but this guy was a real loser. Good thing we found out early; I was barely able to wake him up enough to fire his ass and get him out of the house.
A replacement is on the way tomorrow; for tonight, we're fine.
When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro. - Hunter S. Thompson
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