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    TIMOTHYNOHE   112,068
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Visiting Mom.

Wednesday, September 04, 2013

I am still catching up from this weekend.

On Monday, Patrick and I drove home from New York. That takes us along I-95. Along I-95 in Maryland you have to pass the exit that goes to the nursing home where Mom is recovering from her most recent stroke. And it's about a mile off the highway. So it's like RIGHT THERE.

I skipped visiting on Friday going up and a good thing too because at the time I whizzed by she was in Occupational Therapy where they reteach her things like buttoning her shirt and getting in and out of bed.

But I told Patrick that not stopping on our way back through would be a sin. (Not an actual Sin sin, but just an expression.) Besides it was Labor Day surely they wouldn't be working her on a Holiday. Right?

We arrived and of course the first order of business for me was the bathroom. As I was coming out, I heard, from a wheelchair right in front of me, Mom "Well what are you doing here?" then she turned to her attendant and said, "This is my son Timothy and one of my grandsons, Patrick or Michael," they are both Black so at least she got both their names right, "Take me to my room so I can have lunch with them."

She didn't want to go to the dining room and eat "with those old people."

We visited Mom for over an hour and she was so talkative and animated. Her time at Lorien has been excellent for her. She ate all her lunch, except the pudding. "Tastes like wallpaper paste."

I tried it. She was pretty close. "Wallpaper paste is sweeter," I told her. She laughed. She actually got the joke.

My hearing aid batteries had died during the drive so I was in there without, cupping my ears so I could hear what she was saying. "Why are you doing that? I'm the old person here."

Sense of humor, check.

"Mom, I didn't think they would make you work on Labor Day." I said. Yikes! That set her off on a rant.

I do think she is getting better. She still can't always find the right words, but the marbles are definitely all there and rolling around just fine. And it's weird to see her struggle to use her left hand ... she is right handed and has lost most use of her right hand. I let her do as much as I could stand then I would offer to help her ... cut her meat for example. "You don't have to do that. But thank you."

The goal is to get her home. And soon.
 


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