Today has been another day of phone calls and emails. I ate lunch in my bathrobe at 3:30 pm, my usual, some carrot-ginger soup for warm comfort and some gluten-free crackers and hummus for crunch factor which helps me get rid of some anxiety and anger.

The communications included the following:

• a pissed-off call to the management of my mother’s assisted living facility to inform him that she is not getting the services she is entitled to: laundry, housekeeping, garbage removal. Some smart-ass workers gave my aide some lip about what they don’t have to do. My job is to set them straight. In addition, I informed management of my mother’s condition and the man never once said anything, nothing, of compassion or concern. So I continued to inform him that I have photographs of her sink that I took last July: the bowl is cracked, the faucet is ancient and full of moldy calk. I made it clear that I wanted the whole unit changed while my mother is still alive. AND, there is a sudden mouse infestation in the air conditioning unit. It seems the apartment next door is vacant and some little friends are using it as a playground. This is about the Emeritus Regency Residence. Something needs to be done.

nice, right?? let it go on record here

• several calls to the Hospice nurse
• several calls to the aide
• a call to the bank informing them that the aide or nurse will be doing shopping with my mother’s credit card. She was out of paper goods and soap and towels.
• a call from my dear friend who took care of my son when he was a baby, she was very upset by what is happening to my mother.
• a call from the social worker: a chat then discussion about the funeral arrangements. Subsequently I had to call into Hospice and get the info into the data base.
• a call and subsequent emails to my mother’s insurance agent form her former place of work to follow up on her insurance change. There was a problem with getting prescriptions and her numbers had to be put in place.
• two calls to the local Walgreen’s to email a copy of the insurance card.
• a subsequent email to the advocate with a copy of the card.
• another call to Emeritus to inform them that my aide was told there are no more mouse traps and that the apartment next door should be checked as well, and all openings should be calked and sealed. I further said, if you run out of something, get the hell out and buy more.
• an email to the advocate with the funeral info.

A package arrived today from a friend I never met. Sometimes those friends are the best kind, they don’t see us in person but they feel our spirit, and so Kathy, who grew up in Stuyvesant Town as I did though we didn’t know one another, felt so touched by the issues with my mother from posts I made in our group, that she crocheted comfort shawls. I assume my mother will get hers soon. It is a rainbow array of warm colors with wonderful cards, notes and sentiments. Beautifully and lovingly presented. I can’t thank you enough, Kathy. A stranger took the time to send love; how lucky am I? You bet I’ll be sitting on my couch with a cup of tea and that shawl draped around me. God knows I need it, a proxy hug from a friend.

My days have been running away. I feel like running away.

My mother is running away. She can’t walk, she can’t stand, she doesn’t eat, she is exhausted, her body is failing and yet she is disappearing, vanishing before my eyes though I am not there to see her. She needs to do what she has to do. Run with clouds.

[This series is linked: see “continued here.” Also, below the line there will be links for the previous post and the next.]

continued here

The series starts here