Well, early Thursday morning we got our new refrigerator. I’m assuming ‘they’ are zapping our power supply because ‘fridge’ part still seems warmer as was the old fridge; while the ‘freezer’ part seems fine as was the old freezer part.
Day 2 SNF, well actually 1.5 days were unbearable inside Mom’s private chambers, err, oven, room. I was sweating underneath my hanging boobs and I rationalized that it’s good to sweat out the toxin; since I do NOT exercise for health.
Dad joined the coven, err, the hot and stuffy room after arriving around 1800 pm. Mom called just two miles from our designation. She cried, told us never to come here, and hung up.
Then I signed the DNR (hot pink, cardboard shit piece of paper) for the Russian doctor. Nice strong accent, and more tolerable that British accents. She encouraged Mom to freaking eat and get more mobile sitting up in the wheelchair, which we did early this morning under the sunshine out front.
The air outdoors was cool but NOT freaking cloven like a microwave oven inside her room. Alas, the elderly old fart prefers it hot like most reptilianz, I guess, down in Florida for example.
Yeah, so, my karmic debt unto the mother unit will be 86 days of imprisonment. That’s what I thought is happening en route homebound one hour ago. (The night air had these strange horizontal clouds and the sunset is illuminated the skies as medium dark blue.)
Prison. Doesn’t matter where or what location. Once again, the reality of this hellish planet is simple: 1) strips of land or patches of dirt, 2) structures (attached to said dirt or mobile like horseless carriages upon said dirt), and 3) different faces, wearing such gadgets called jewelry, clothes and other fine accessories to dress up “the ball full of mush on a stick and stuck deep into a sack of meat” (as per my thoughts to Dad yesterday).
Oh, yeah! I have to shower off my sweaty stuff to keep cool. I had cramps along the sides of my rib cages as I do NOT take kindly to being cooked alive! I ate my small packs of salt to stave off the cramps. And that worked until I started cramping along my rib cages.
Besides sweating off toxins, I might be loosing weight from keeping active as Mom’s primary caregiver. She is bed ridden and had successfully sat up on bed, stood up on the side of the bed, and sat in a wheelchair for Roger the PT and then Savannah the OT.
I think Mom suffered lots of ‘afibs’ via the hospital which allowed Mom’s heart to run high. So she is swelling up in the hands despite being bedridden. Her lower extremities have no edema and that’s a good sign. Her goal is to be restored into dancing mode, which I recorded a video of my parents dancing on my iPad 9.7″ while the iPad 12.9″ was playing the waltz music in the background.
This is my evidence prior to the extraction and insertion of the internal and temporary external pacemaker systems, respectively – that she was fine before y’all cut her up! Yup. Too much stress on her, factoring in my loudness as a tone deaf person and not processing her requests fast enough or other crappy stuff of corrective behaviors.
Anyway, I do NOT like hot! I was born in the wintery months and I love it cold, like my trait.