We are dealing with the remnants of Tropical Storm Harvey in what is known as the Mid-South. Forecasts yesterday were for about six inches of rain in the Memphis/West Memphis area today and this evening.
For some reason we planned to go to Overton Square, an area of restaurants and boutiques in Memphis that we enjoyed when living in Memphis in the late 1970s. Our niece, C, and my wife drove in torrents of rain. We had lunch under a porch as the sky fell. The food and drink were mediocre, but the venue was great.
Coming home we dropped C off at her resale shop (where business was at a standstill) and went to see my mother-in-law at the nursing home. When we came in everyone was in the hall as the result of a tornando warning. Most of the residents were on walkers or in wheelchairs, but they had wheeled Sue’s bed out into the hall.
“They’re taking me to the shower.”
“Mom, there is a tornado warning. That’s why you’re in the hall.”
“A tornado warning.”
“A tornado warning? Nobody told me that.”
“Mom, they were just trying to get everyone into the hall.”
“I’m supposed to have a shower. They didn’t take me to physical therapy.”
“Maybe they will have to cancel P.T. due to the tornado warning.”
(blank look either means she didn’t hear you or she didn’t like what she heard.”
---- all clear----
“Mom, the tornado warning is over.”
“They’re going to take you back to the room.”
“I’m supposed to go to P.T.”
Man with a walker: “I can’t get into my room.”
“There’s a bed in the way.”
(Sue’s bed is in front of his door.)
“I’m sure that someone will get her back in her room in a minute.”
“I can’t get in my room.”
--- the nursing home director personally rolls Sue back to the room)
“They took me to P.T. yesterday and they put that cream on my neck that helped the pain and then they brought me back and left me in my chair for three hours. It undid all the good that P.T. did.”
___same story yesterday over and over___I think they ignore her, and I can't blame them. We have to steel ourselves to go visit because she complains non-stop____
“Mom, they’re here to take you for your shower and the physical therapist is going to work you in as soon as you get your shower. We’re going to go on.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Yesterday we heard, ad nauseum, about the fact that she just woke up in the hospital. No one asked her where she wanted to go. She loved it at the hospital. It was great. (It was great because nurses came as soon as she hit the call button.)
I explained that she woke up in the hospital because she had a urinary tract infection and became “out of it” as a result. They called us and we talked with them about everything. (blank look).
She wants to go back to the hospital. They “treat you good there’.
No one wants to answer the call button because Sue is hostile, insulting, demanding, bedridden and deaf. We had a long talk with the charge nurse, her social worker and found that she refuses to get out of bed for dental care, repair/replacement of her hearing aids, or any other outside service.
She says “I make my own appointments.” She doesn’t.
She says, “That nurse showed up in jeans and asked some silly questions at the hospital, and then a man who said he was a doctor stuck me in the finger and asked me if I could feel it.”
“Sue, the girl in the jeans was a resident. The man who pretended to be a doctor and stuck your finger was a neurologist.”
“Well, he didn’t do anything for me.”
“He was going to schedule you for more tests and see you later”.
“He didn’t do any tests.”
“Sticking your finger was a test.”
We’re back at C’s.
The rain isn’t letting up.
C, by the way, is still grieving for her father, but doing better.
Her inheritance was two storage sheds full of freeze dried food and a “bug out bag”.