Yes. There have been exciting developments on the poop front. At 2:45pm H rang the bell for me to get her off the bedpan. I went in there and she said she hadn’t been able to do anything and she thinks she just needs to lay on her side for a while and then try again. So, rather than get frustrated that the whole day is slipping away and she isn’t even out of bed yet, I am hopping that in about 20 or 30 minutes she will decide she can shit and we will be done with that. Then I will get her cleaned up, dressed, hauled into the wheelchair and rolled into the living room where she will sit happily in front of the tv the remainder of the day. Then I will go out and frantically weed, weed, weed! Just waiting for that bell to ring. Could be aaaany minute……
At 3:17 I was finally rolling her into the living room and she announced that she wants to make some phone calls. So I snatched the phone up and dialed the number she handed me. Disconnected. Henrietta-“Oh, that’s so sad!” Me-“Why’s it sad?”. H-“Well, she’s dead or in a nursing home!” (like, you ninny, anybody can see that!). Me-“Or she moved in with someone else.” H-(acting like she didn’t hear me), “Yes, she’s in a nursing home.”
Next number on her list. Me-“That’s the wrong number, Henrietta.” H-“No, I copied it down!” Me-“Yeah, well, it’s wrong. I got another family.” H- “Do they know Thelma?”
Me, right now-God, please let me just get outside.
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