Eight years ago today, my mother died. She had been increasingly ravaged by Alzheimer's over her last ten years, to the point that at the end it was easy to regard it as more of a release for her than a tragedy. But she was a sweetie, a wonderful mother and an all-around great person, and we miss her every day. Anne S. Dantzler, June 18, 1923 - July 1, 2001, Rest in peace.
Yesterday, Dad had another good day, mostly. Dialysis went well and meals were still double portions and generally edible. We had a visit from the wound nurse, who muttered. ("WHAT?") He told us that Dad had bed sores. (I need to rename this blog "Forgive TMI." Now it's time to say it again.) He was telling us that Dad needs to get out of bed and we explained that every time the physical therapy guys get him up, he pooped. We suggested that he wear adult diapers only for PT, and he muttered back that this used to be the way things were done but now they don't because adult diapers led to too much skin damage. Upshot, however, was that he was down with the plan so long as the diaper didn't stay on afterwards.
After I left, the PT people came, without diapers. Got him out of bed and nature took its course. Malcolm and Margaret said that the PT folks basically cut and ran. We miss Tim and Cory, and continue to be frustrated with the total lack of communication between the departments at Baptist. Hoping for better coordination at whatever nursing home we go to shortly.
Had a bizarro dream where I brought in from the street two additional cats who looked like Amelia. Was very relieved to wake up to only one of her.
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