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So the situation worsens.
We visited the Matulaitis Nursing Home this morning. It’s actually very nice, in Putnam, in the woods with nice gardens. It doesn’t smell. The oldest resident is 100 years old and has an accent exactly like my grandmother’s. She spoke Lithuanian with my mother and then tried to converse with me, but my Lithuanian is SO bad that I had to keep asking my mother to tell me what to say. The little lady, Mrs. Marckus, told me I’m very beautiful and asked if I have a boyfriend - I figure she has a grandson that she wants to fix up. The place is suitable and pleasant.
We came home to find that my grandmother had contorted herself so that her head was hanging off the edge of the bed and she couldn’t get up. With some difficulty, she was convinced to go to the hospital. That was misery. She can’t really walk, or even move. Watching her try to crawl up the bulkhead stairs to get outside and to the car was heartbreaking. We ended up calling the ambulance to come transport her to St. Vincent’s ER, and as they were rolling her off, she was already cursing, swearing, and screaming. I think she’ll be admitted until her wrist surgery is over next week, and from there, if we can get the insurance straightened out properly, she’ll probably be transferred to the Matulaitis Home until she dies.
And to boot, my cat is now hospitalized for testing because something is very wrong. I am teetering on hysteria and I don’t like it.
We visited the Matulaitis Nursing Home this morning. It’s actually very nice, in Putnam, in the woods with nice gardens. It doesn’t smell. The oldest resident is 100 years old and has an accent exactly like my grandmother’s. She spoke Lithuanian with my mother and then tried to converse with me, but my Lithuanian is SO bad that I had to keep asking my mother to tell me what to say. The little lady, Mrs. Marckus, told me I’m very beautiful and asked if I have a boyfriend - I figure she has a grandson that she wants to fix up. The place is suitable and pleasant.
We came home to find that my grandmother had contorted herself so that her head was hanging off the edge of the bed and she couldn’t get up. With some difficulty, she was convinced to go to the hospital. That was misery. She can’t really walk, or even move. Watching her try to crawl up the bulkhead stairs to get outside and to the car was heartbreaking. We ended up calling the ambulance to come transport her to St. Vincent’s ER, and as they were rolling her off, she was already cursing, swearing, and screaming. I think she’ll be admitted until her wrist surgery is over next week, and from there, if we can get the insurance straightened out properly, she’ll probably be transferred to the Matulaitis Home until she dies.
And to boot, my cat is now hospitalized for testing because something is very wrong. I am teetering on hysteria and I don’t like it.