Greetings from Highland Hospital

Hello from Rochester, New York. My mother fell again and she's here at Highland Hospital recovering. She will be moved to rehab soon, then, we hope, back to her apartment at the assisted living venue. But we don't know. Especially because she said to me today, "The ending seems so raggedy, doesn't it?" And when I asked "the ending of what?" she said, "the ending of me."

I don't think this is actually the ending of my mother. I think it is most certainly the ending of any semblance of control she has had over her own daily life. I give her that. And I told her that. She agreed. We talked about that for a little while. She is, for the most part, very confused about where she is. She does not agree that this is a hospital. She thinks it might be a restaurant, because they brought her food. She thinks it might be a museum, because everyone is looking at her. She thinks she might be in Maryland because that is where she went to rehab last time she broke her pelvis. But when I read her stories from the newspaper, she is completely alert and aware of what I am saying. I have to read slowly of course. And loudly, which might be the reason why they switched her to a private room. The lady on the other side of the curtain was occasionally vociferous, yelling things like, "you're lying!" as I was reading aloud. Of course I didn't take it personally, as i am not the one who is lying in the newspaper story.

Well, I have eaten the tepid broth in the bowl of stuff that was supposed to be chicken soup. I extracted the rubbery purple-tinged blob that was supposed to be a matzoh ball and left it to die on the table. Time to clean it all up and go back upstairs to check on Mom. I hope you all had a good boxing day yesterday. I flew across the country and watched Moonlight. You should watch that movie. It is really good. Don't watch Lalaland. Watch Moonlight.