Dear diary,

I’m getting the hang of assisting Mom while she’s in bed. I don’t alway press the whitish call button for CNA help.

As long as the patient is able to turn sideways and HELP us, we are able to straighten the drop sheets (for moving the patient higher on the bed, after repeated slipping downward from sitting upright and for moving left and right for centering); to apply the diaper; and to wipe after shoving the thick ass bed pan under the weakened patient’s big ass.

It’s 1311, and both PT and OT are evaluating Mom’s progress for their damn reports so she can go home relatively independent as possible. Yup. So they’re doing the evals for feeding herself, getting outta bed, standing up, sitting down, going poop, and brushing her teeth.

It’s 1324, and the twosome are walking her with the wheelchair behind her. And I finally can cool off in the cooler part of the building and blog without freaking interruption! Unfreaking believable!

Anyway, the temperature seems cooler. I’m hopeful Mom would make a full recovery, or least a partial outsole while she gets treated for the same recurring bug that they could never find or kill completely with the failed two attempts of two weeks and then six weeks and then three months!


Flynn B. Ever hopeful for release from this facility and into freedom to work, play, and live my own life, if any. Sigh.

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