Monday, January 28, 2013


Mom has had a doctor visit, for what seems like ridiculous tests to be admitted to live in the assisted living apartment (she doesn't have TB, I promise) and has endured the longest car ride she's had in half a decade, has eaten a little bit for dinner, and is now in the new place.  Alone.

I just talked to my sister, who assured me that the facility nurse on duty knows Mom is overtired and in a new place all alone and will need help to get up to go to the bathroom (or to get up at all, for any reason).  There's a string taped to the nightstand for Mom to pull if she needs anything.

Greg keeps telling me to remember that they love her, too.  No one wishes Mom anything bad, everyone wants to take care of her.  And that's true.

Her actual furniture and her bed won't be there until tomorrow afternoon, so she's actually in a "show" apartment across the hall from her real apartment.  And there's no phone in there, so I can't even talk to Mom.

Anyway.  I am absolutely going to assume that everything is fine, until I know that it isn't.  Because maybe she is asleep, and comfortable, and just purely fine.  And maybe the nurse on duty will be sweet, and will check on her, and will come immediately when Mom calls.

That is certainly possible, even likely, and that is what I am assuming.