Before I begin today's misery, let me say BONDI. What a piece of shit. The entire hearing demonstrated that Congress really is the weakest part of the governmental trinity, a dog without teeth. My favorite congressman comes from my own home state. He is both smart AND a hoot. Here are his five minutes with Bondi. You need to skip ahead to 1:44 in the piece to get where he begins.
But for all the praise she gets for being something other than what she now is when she was the A.G. in my own home state, everybody said even then that she was a political hack, a face lift for the conservative republicans in this state. Everyone said she was a piece of alligator dung from the get-go.
Now to my triumphal tale. My mother. What a gal. She called to cry about being in the most wonderful rehab facility you can imagine.
"I want to go home."
The price of a room in this facility has gone up to $640/day. I could only afford to get her in there if the hospital made the recommendation. Say what you will about me. . . I do have some skills. The rooms are large and clean. The service is almost concierge, and maybe not even "almost." There is staff for everything, and they are incredibly polite. I watched the food staff yesterday as they prepared dinner for each diner, going over their preference cards, noting who was gluten intolerant, who was vegan, who requested this or that, and then they dished it with a delightful flurry showing one another the final product. Therapist come to my mother's room. A few steps away is a comfortable sitting room with a giant t.v. My mother's neighbors came to visit yesterday, she said, and they sat together there. But mom, in typical fashion said with a sneer, "They had that skiing stuff on all day."
Yup. Mom constantly complains.
"How was therapy?"
"We didn't do anything."
"How was breakfast?"
A shrug. "The bacon was greasy. The toast was cold."
"What did you have for lunch?"
"I don't remember. Nobody knows how to work this t.v."
"What do you want to watch?"
"Put it on Fox."
Of course. I did.
"How did you do that?"
I showed her.
"You need to bring me my walker from home. This one is too high. They tried to adjust it but it doesn't go any lower."
So I went to her house and got her her own walker. When I brought it in, it was EXACTLY the same model and same height.
"Oh."
BUT, HERE'S THE THING!!!! After lying in bed in a diaper with a wick thing between her legs, she is scooting around on the walker as well as she was at home, and she is going to the bathroom on her own. No kidding. . . she won't need to be in rehab long at all. Oh, she couldn't tell the social worker the year or the day, and she couldn't repeat the three words she was supposed to remember, but the heart, lungs, and kidneys. . . .
So, we'll be back to our old ways in no time. I'll get to move back in with good old mom and start my 24/7 duties all over again.
👍
"You're a good son."
She hasn't a clue about where the hospital wanted to put her.
I shouldn't have put the little nubbins of horns coming out of her head. It is just a joke. It is a reflection of my own shortcomings, not hers. Just illustrative. Meant to be funny.
Me? Oh, it is kind of you to ask. I looked into the mirror this morning and noticed my hair is thinning. I always had a wonderful head of hair. The stress may be taking it's toll. The neuralgia continues, of course, and the great and terrible fatigue. I couldn't face cooking yesterday so I ordered takeout sushi from a place on the Boulevard. It is hit or miss, and I have quit eating there, but it was on the way home.
When I plated it out, I had great hopes, but they were quickly vanquished. The sushi was soft and slimy. I am lucky I didn't get sick, I think.
Such is my life. Friday. I think I'll party.
Ho!
I'm in no mood to leave the house. I must start preparing for returning to my mother's.
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