Earthworm of Trill

Well, we got home last night. I'm still tired. The visit went pretty well. We spent quite a lot of time with my mother. We didn't get to see her doing therapy, which I had really wanted to see for myself. Her schedule seemed to be a little different from the usual that day. Just bad luck I guess. It's interesting starting to write up this post. I think, "Okay now, summarize your experience. Do that thing like you do." And my brain is just like NOPE. Yeah, nothing bad happened this time--not like all the days in the hospital. And yet, I'm just tired out. I can't bear to go into detail about all the everyday sadness of seeing all the things my mother has lost. I should be looking at this as if it's positive, because we talked to her PT, and she is doing well in many ways. Her bones are healing. She can use her right arm again. She still takes an interest in things and has opinions about her haircut and puts a little lipstick on before going to the dining room, and tries to read Willa Cather (she's attempting to re-read The Professor's House). But she can't find her call button . . . thinks it's the control for her recliner when she does find it . . . thought it was Sunday on Wednesday and again on Thursday . . . . There are many reasons why we feel very anxious about whether she can even go back to her little assisted care apartment. There's a lot to think about.

I asked the nursing director about a care conference. She said I should talk to the social worker. Who was on vacation till next week. So I called the other social worker who was taking over her calls. I called her on Wednesday, and she didn't call me back. I called her on Thursday, and she didn't call me back. I called her this morning, and her voicemail said I couldn't leave a message because the box was full. I called the administrator and left a very slightly snotty message with HER. Miraculously enough, the social worker called me back a couple of hours later. I guess it was just a coincidence. . . . Anyway, we have a care conference set up for Wednesday next week, so hopefully some questions will be answered and some decisions can be made.

I feel like Dobby the House-Elf when he exclaimed, "Master has given me a sock!" Because the Duchess wrote me a long email, and I spent some time trying and trying to write an adequate response. Finally I decided "Fork it!" and just called her. We had a good conversation, I felt much relieved that we are apparently on the same page, and she actually thanked me at the end of the call. SUCCESS. Then I called Queenie to put her in the picture and we achieved same-pagery as well. So that was my morning.

I went for a long walk with Deb on Wednesday night, and was on my feet a lot on Thursday, too. My poor old legs ached so bad. When one is an old lady and one's legs hurt, there's no such thing as proper grammar. They don't ache badly or whatever. They hurt so bad. That's the only way to say it. The Prussian showed me some hip exercises that he said helped him. (Like me, he has tae kwon do injuries, although unlike me, he is a MASTER for his pains.) I went for a walk today and saw a lovely expanse of mackerel sky, the likes of which we haven't had since the winter began. But overall, it was not a pleasure, because it hurt. I spent some time helping the Sparrowhawk tidy up for his book club, which was meeting here. Really, he did almost all the work by himself. He served them lovely baguette slices with a choice of butter and cheese, or ricotta and fig jam, and wine. I went upstairs and ended up taking a nap. Woke up still sore.

Just watched the Jones BBQ episode of Queer Eye in KC. OMG those sisters tho. Shorty and Little--I love them so much. It made me crave some of that good barbecue, but it's a good thing I don't have any, because my stomach is killing me, too. I hope I'll get back to normal pretty soon now.