Meeting

    So we had the discharge planning meeting at the nursing home, essentially sketching out the plan for how Dad's stay should run. The physical therapy lady (whom Dad likes enormously, and she him) said what I already knew: it's going to take the whole 100 days Medicare will pay for, and maybe more, to get Dad ready to come home.
    I was able to share my concerns about his care, and I learned more about dialysis, since the senior care partner had been a dialysis nurse for eight years. I still don't believe that dialysis rids the body of all urine, since Dad has demonstrated that it doesn't. I think she's talking about people with higher degrees of kidney failure than Dad has.
    Regardless, I feel lots better about the situation. Margaret and I also visited the other facility which I had been thinking should have been the one I had chosen. Aaaand, while it's really great, he sort of falls between cracks in their care categories. He's not quite independent enough for assisted living, while he's a lot more on the ball than the patients in their skilled nursing wing. So maybe I'm not such a big idiot after all.