Buyer's remorse

    Even assuming that it really were the Taj Mahal, I'd probably still be having a fair amount of buyer's remorse about Dad's new nursing home. As somebody once said, nobody's perfect. His first meal there was satisfactory, but the second and the third were not so much. The staff who seemed so caring and crackerjack on my evaluation visit are bored, listless and gum-popping now. Though the ones actually checking on him in the room all seem good.
    I guess even at the Taj Mahal you don't get many Rhodes Scholars (or equivalent) willing to clean up other people's poop. So wherever I had sent him, I probably wouldn't be entirely satisfied. But I still think I could have done better, and I get the impression he thinks so, too.
    In the all's well that ends well department, I went out to get him sneakers for physical therapy. It isn't easy finding athletic shoes for a 90-year-old man with imperfect motor control who also happens to be six-foot-three. He told me he wears size 14, but neglected to add (and I neglected to ask) that he needs triple width. I found him size 14s with velcro fasteners, only to get back to the nursing home to find out about the triple width part. Fortunately, the store had the same style in 14EEEs, and were open until 8. So I fixed everything no problem. Yay!