Some days call for tequila. 2019/03/26

I saw Mom last Friday. She had an assessment for her long term care insurance. After the nurse giving the assessment was half an hour late, unprepared, and took 2.5 hours to give the assessment, she said, "Okay, so I'll submit my report and they'll get back to you with their decision."

"Their decision of what?" I asked. "Well, whether or not they'll continue insuring her care," she said.

And that's when I jumped across the table and slit her throat. Not really, but...REALLY? This is a policy my parents paid into since 1997, and I'm depending on this bitch to give a report that's going to determine whether or not they're going to continue paying (a pittance) for my mom, who has advanced Alzheimer's, to keep living in the facility she's in? I mean, it doesn't cover her expenses, but at least it helps.

That day sucked. The assessment was a glaring reminder of just how much my mom has declined over the past year. "I'm going to say three words to you. I'd like for you to repeat them back to me. Book, lamp, tree." Mom: "Book, lump, frume." That's what Alzheimer's does. It changes what it's in your brain to what comes out of your mouth. I mean, I guess. My mom will have entire conversations of nonsense with me, but she'll look at me expectantly like I'm supposed to respond. I've become a master of the Smile and Nod.

I popped in today to say hello. She was in a wheelchair in the dining room. She was slumped over forward - I didn't recognize her, and I was surprised she was even able to stay in the chair. I said, "Hi, Mom," and she glanced up. She smiled for a second, started talking gibberish, and slumped back down. Her nose was bloody - like she'd had a nose bleed earlier that no one had bothered to clean up. I went to her room to water her plant. While I was in there, I caught a photo of my dad on the wall & felt the tears welling up. I went back to the dining room, gave my mom a kiss, told her I loved her, and left. And then I sobbed in my car for a solid ten minutes and begged my dad to take her home.

No one should have to "live" like this. Please, Daddy, if you can hear me at all, take Mom home. ❤️