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Trading in the Cadillac for a Ferrari

Notes from the Eldercare Underground:  Thanksgiving Edition

I joined my mother at the nursing home today for their Thanksgiving dinner. 

I tell ya, they really put out quite a spread.  All the food was very good (including the coffee) and I was a member of the Clean Plate Club by the time the meal was over.

Today my mother had a little something extra to be thankful for:  she has graduated from the wheelchair to a candy-apple red walker, complete with padded seat and handbrakes. 

Yesterday I watched as her physical therapist, Joe, took her outside for a spin with her new wheels.  He was really proud that she had made so much progress, and I was amazed at how fast she could move in that thing.  I told Joe that this was the fastest I’d seen her walk in years.

Joe has a great sense of humor and had told her yesterday that he was recommending to the powers that be at the nursing home that she be allowed to jettison the wheelchair in favor of the jazzier mode of transportation.

He said he wanted her to “trade in the Cadillac for the shiny red Ferrari.”  And that’s what she did.

On another, “I can’t believe my mother said that,” note—Tammy, the director of nurses, flagged me down on my way out.  She had a couple of anecdotes about my mother she wanted to tell me.

The first one involved her getting ready for her doctor’s appointment last week.  The LVN who was helping my mother told Tammy that when she commented on how nice my mother looked, with her pretty sweater and lipstick, my mother said:  

“You never know when the doctor might be a stud.” 

OMG.  My mother said that?

And the second anecdote was when the occupational therapist was observing my mother using the bathroom to be sure she could do it safely on her own.  She didn’t quite get her pants pulled up all the way over her behind and the therapist had to point that out to her.  My mother said:

“Now you know what kind of girl I am.”

Oh boy.  I think that Ferrari has started something.

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