The same tune, over and over, gets pretty darn tedious.
Mom lasted about three weeks in Assisted Living, this time.
Concerned with her rather precipitous weight loss since moving the AL, the facility called her doctor, who said to bring Mom to the hospital for evaluation. They say she’s not eating, a fact she disputes. She doesn’t like the food served, so she eats in her room: crackers and cheese and canned food that my brother took her shopping for.
Mom also had a fall the week before, at which time she was brought in and x-rayed. Nothing broken, luckily, but since that time she has been very anxious about falling. So anxious, actually, that when she sits upright, she gets the dry heaves. Kind of hard to do physical therapy in that condition.
Clearly Mom is not thriving in an Assisted Living environment. She is simply not getting the level of care that her fragile state requires. The sad thing is, E and I knew this ahead of time, but our assistance is neither requested nor welcomed.
So once again it’s back to the rehab. This time I think I will sit down with the rehab’s discharge planner and lay out some ground rules for her long term care.