Today, we ate Thanksgiving dinner with my mother, at her rehab hospital. We had stayed overnight at my mother in law's home, driving down immediately after breakfast. It was a pleasant and even thoughtful gesture on the part of the hospital. Being in a hospital is tough; being there on Thanksgiving is tougher; being there alone on Thanksgiving is just plain awful. So, we were glad for the opportunity -- even if it was hospital food, which is really nasty stuff. But they tried, and that counts for a lot, to me. I looked at a couple of the other tables, and they were about the same as ours -- healthy people surrounding an aged, somewhat feeble one, but they all seemed pleased to be there.
My mother is really ready to check out. It happens on Saturday, which we told her twice, but she still asked. And she wanted us to start taking her stuff home, too, so we took a couple of things. But Saturday is the big day. We both expect that my mother will be in recurring 'help me jesus' mode, due mostly to stress and feeling out the limits of her abilitities. I hope that it doesn't last too long. But either way, it will be good to have her home.
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Yup, as we speak (well, I speak), she's downstairs in her living room, going through mail. We have an old baby monitor on so that she can call for help if needed. She's still pretty weak, but all things considered, not bad. And she's delighted to be hoome.
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