The trees have begun to turn, and the days are getting cool. I had to learn how to protect the pipes and faucets from the freeze that is expected this weekend. Sitting on the porch is still okay but a jacket would be nice. I guess it is time to take the boxes of unworn tank tops and shorts to the basement and reflect on the absence of winter clothes. Since Mom has shrunk and lost weight, there are some sweatshirts that I have appropriated so there won’t be misery in front of me during the fall, but winter is a-coming in.
The nursing home is a scary place in many ways. There are a lot of people who are not there but still there. There are screamers and droolers and recent stoke victims who aren’t sure if they are going to recover. But at the same time, there are many people who simply can’t live alone anymore for a variety of reasons, and some of them are very sweet. Of course there are a couple who make me think of “Mean Girls” the movie, who were angry young people and age hasn’t improved them.
Mom has a roommate who is in the hospital right now (long story) so can settle in at her leisure. Things are looking up and getting better every day. The nightmares are gone, the refusals have ceased to be a problem, and we are falling into the routine. For the last two nights, she has slept through the night except for the mid-night pee break.
We get up, go to the dining hall for breakfast and then have a variety of options, including infusion at the hospital, physical therapy at the hospital or at the home, whirlpool baths, and other (including bingo). I have been taking her for a walk around the walking trail (.5 mile plus 800 yards) a couple of times a day, but this 55 degrees with wind put a stop to that.
Then back to the dining hall for lunch (excuse me, dinner) and after that she takes a nap and I come back home to the porch where I can type and upload my mental meanderings. Then back in the saddle, 42 miles later, I am there for pre supper activities, supper and she crashes for the night. Doesn’t sound too exciting but it is so good to have that routine after the hell that she has lived through.
Watch out: I hear the bingo games can become pretty competitive!
ReplyDeleteThe only surprise was that you had to learn how to protect the pipes and faucets. I would have thought you'd be a black belt at pipe insulation from growing up there. As for those mean girls, just doodle over their bingo cards. That'll teach 'em!
ReplyDeleteBetter yet, John, she should doodle on their faces.
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