Dad was out of town today and asked me to go and feed Grandma. When I got there she was upset. She had refused her breathing treatment and her medicine. Nurse Kim finally got her to do it. She explained to me that none of the staff could be trusted. She wasn't about to take anything unless she saw my Dad sign for it himself. They were trying to kill her.
I said, "Gran, you need to take your medicine if you want to get better."
"I don't want to get better, I just want to die."
It sounded like a foreign language to me. I said, let's get you outside and that's what we did.
She's emotional, she vascillates, her medicine has her all screwed up. I get that, but something my Dad said later on tonight felt a little weird. He told MA that he thought Grandma was starting to feel at home there. I don't know if anyone can say for sure, but the truth is Grandma is going to be there awhile and if she lives a long time, she'll likely be there a long while. Any way you slice it, I don't think I could muster enough confidence to say I thought she felt at home there.
I wonder if it's how he copes given that there doesn't seem to be an alternative and it must, must, must be painful to see his mother going through so much pain. Bad situations with seemingly no solutions drive us humans to wild pathologies. May God give us all strength.
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