They’re getting ready to transfer Mrs. the Poet from the hospital to a nursing home. And it will probably be the one she will die in. She’s not showing a lot of improvement except that they were able to give her a shower where I couldn’t. I think that had more to do with them and where they gave her the shower than with her, because it’s very hard to get Mrs. the Poet in and out of our shower, because of the small door to the bathroom and the size of the shower. I might have been able to get her clean if I stripped down and took a shower with her, but with my lack of upper body strength I have my doubts.
Anyway, I was only able to get to one of the nursing homes on the list they gave me, the one closest to the house. I can just barely walk to this one because I can rest when I get there before I have to walk home, and it is an easy drive for my son. The only one of the children living in the US who would have a problem is the daughter living out in BFE, which for the purposes of this post is Aubrey TX. I might have spelled that wrong, so when I get the actual spelling of the town I will edit this post with the right spelling but leave this mess.
Getting back to Mrs. the Poet, they had to do a skin graft over the infected hole in the top of her foot while they were checking to see if the infection went to the bone or just to the exposed tendons. And yes I know that doesn’t speak well of my level of care, but I did the best I could with bandaging her up and changing her socks, including buying her new socks in a larger size to fit over her swollen feet. When her feet got so swollen that I couldn’t fit my slippers over her feet I knew for a fact we had a problem.
As I posted earlier, a big part of the problem is my lack of upper body strength. I have a very low lift and carry limit, and that frustrates me no end. Some of this is from old injuries, some of it is from lack of exercise probably due to those old injuries making exercise a literal pain. I have shoulder injuries that make raising my arms straight over my head impossible, and signaling a right turn on my bike where the arm is parallel to the ground from the shoulder is also a pain if I have to hold the signal for more than a few seconds. So no upper body strength, and those injuries were from the Aughties and early Teens of this century.
And I really need to put a load of laundry in the washer, so I’ll cut this one short now and maybe do another post after visiting Mrs. the Poet this afternoon.