NOT motorin'

    When Margaret and I visited Dad yesterday, she got a look at his left wrist and was very scared. There was a clear bandage on it and whatever was under it was just black. When the nurse came in to check his blood sugar, we asked about it. She took it off and his wrist was fine. It had been dried blood; the wound or bruise or whatever it was was all better. So there was a relief.
    We also got to see another physical therapy session. He didn't perform as well as last Thursday. He was very tired and needed a lot of rest between any activity. He at least didn't refuse to do anything, and though he wasn't motorin' he did walk all the way back to his room from the PT room, a few hundred feet at least.
    Then he slept through the rest of the visit. He spoke aloud in his sleep here and then. (Something about all the rats around here and what kind of traps would kill them, so not the nicest dreams either.) He had again barely eaten lunch.
    I really don't know what to do. Things generally seem to be getting better there, but still not good. Margaret doesn't want him to move to the other place (assuming they ever get a bed open) because she doesn't think he would be happy there what with smaller rooms. I think he would be happier with a more competent nursing staff. I guess we'll have to put on a sales job should the bed ever come open. Sigh.