When my father fell with a strangulated hernia shortly after, I thought it would be a quick fix because he was basically healthy. He ate well, had some control issues and didn't know how to deal with mama trying to "fix" everything. The next six weeks were a lesson in modern healthcare delivery, geriatric style. The pain that he asked for help with turned into a huge mishmash of SNF and surgery until he eventually just gave up the ghost. He was 83 and had lived a good life but still...that was a lot of shit to digest. None of us had the capability of caring for Mom at home so there she went to the cute little room at the home where sometimes they're nice, and sometimes grumpy. She shares a bathroom with Ms. Bobbie and can't see to play bingo, so there you go. Pure misery. I sure do hope that cast came off today.
This past week is a blur and I hope I remember enough about it to stay humble and grateful. Every single person that I reached out to gave me their hand and held mine. I would name you all but that might open a whole 'nother can of worms so I digress. Just know that this old girl is mighty grateful for the posse that's got my back.