My Aunt Florence hasn't been home since July 1st.
She's was in the hospital, then a rehab, then back in the hospital, and now back in a different rehab.
She can't walk (hence the rehab).
Everytime I go and see her I can feel the cracks in my heart moving inwards.
The most fabulous woman I've ever met in real life and she can't really do...anything.
She finally got her hair did, which made her really happy, because the new rehab facility has a salon in it. She's already got another appointment for this Friday.
My Uncle goes and visits her everyday. She makes him leave by 5:00 so he isn't driving home in the dark. He calls as soon as he gets home so she knows he made it.
The first roommate she had in the new rehab was pretty mean and unruly. Apparently we have the hook up though cause my mom's friend knows the owners and they let Florrie transfer rooms. I didn't see her new roommate because we sat out in the great area when we were there yesterday. Drumline was playing on the TV. Clearly appropriate.
I just want her to be able to walk because I know that's all she wants. It's breaking her that she can't and I can feel it whenever we visit. I think that's what's cracking me up the most. The fact that I've seen her laying in bed shaking her head and looking absolutely petrified.
It's weird to see adults scared. Particularly ones who have taken care of or protected you for as long as you can remember. It actually makes me physically uncomfortable.