Mom is already much better, to my profound relief. She’s up and dressed, going down for meals, alert and talkative, and we’ve been able to enjoy our visit for the past two days. I can fly home tonight without worrying.
I enjoy going down to the dining room with her; it’s great people watching and sometimes downright comical. A typical example: The server comes around to take our orders. Less than two minutes after she moves on to the next table, the woman sitting across from me is asking “When are they going to come take our order?” I gently reply that they already have. “They did?” Mom asks. “What did I order?” I overhear an old man at the table behind ask for a grilled cheese sandwich because he doesn’t like either of the two entrée choices today. When they bring the food, he sees that his tablemates are eating chicken and asks the server why he doesn’t have any meat. She explains that she brought him what he ordered. “I don’t want this,” he tells her. I hear her patiently explaining at least six times that he can have chicken or veal instead, but he needs to tell her what he wants to eat. He won’t give an answer except to keep repeating that he doesn’t want the grilled cheese sandwich. She’s sweet and patient through the entire exchange, and I wonder how she does it day in and day out (probably for minimum wage).
Speaking of sweet people… We learned this weekend that my mom’s lovely roommate, Margie, is moving out. She is going to a different facility where she can get a higher level of nursing care. Mom will miss her; they’ve really bonded and become good friends in these last six weeks. There is good news in this change, though. Margie has the larger bedroom with the walk-in closet, which will become Mom’s room after she moves out. So the next time I come back, we can get the rest of her clothes and furniture out of storage and get her fully set up here. Eventually she’ll have a new roommate, but that could take a few months. In the long run, I think this is a good thing.