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Moving at the Speed of Procrastination. [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
E.G.

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Quick notes about yesterday [Mar. 7th, 2019|08:27 am]
E.G.
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...because time speeds along.

Travel approved by director with no reservations (including a "you don't need to stay in a hostel" that Christine read over my shoulder and now interprets as "you should not stay in a hostel").

Orientation briefing at King Rehab went well and filled me with warm fuzzies except the discovery that medicare is ONLY covering rehab up to the point where she was when she left UNC in January. Which could be PDQ. Which means we have to be prepared for that first week home. But...

Dad's received a call from his cousin and feels the need to get to Tampa to see his mom and deal with some of her affairs -- and he's not in a position to listen to my sister and i talk about bringing in outside help the first week.

I decided that until we can get the arrangements made, i will resign myself to being the second carer at my folks for the first week. It was just seven days ago i was convening a discussion with Dad and my sister about getting the transfer process moving after Dad had been apparently stonewalled the day before. (He had not.) The emotional ups and downs and stresses of just the transfer made the week incredibly intense. With the short turn around for discharge (48 hours, although it sounds like it's often more like 72) we may have another whirlwind when she is released. I'm sure it will be more like the departure from UNC's acute rehab where there was training before hand so one knows discharge will be "soon," but that left just one weekend for getting things in order. I suspect the house still has some of the chaos from Mom's week home.


And then last night on the way home from dinner and the grocery, we passed over an animal in the middle of lane. It was near where i have seen a cat dart across the road so we went back, and found it was a raccoon, still alive, but grievously wounded. We removed them from the middle of the road, considered the freezing temperatures, and then wrapped them in the dog towel and brought them home. By the time i had gotten out the heating pad for plant starting, the raccoon was dead. We'll bury them today. It was the most compassionate thing we could think of -- all the techniques of putting them out of their misery quickly seemed ... horrible to present to Christine.

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Comments:
[User Picture]From: tx_cronopio
2019-03-07 04:51 pm (UTC)
I think hostels are fine -- in your 20s. You are not vacationing, you are working and you deserve a comfortable and private place to rest!

Poor raccoon... I was in a similar situation once, still an awful memory.

Hang in there, dear --- lots on your plate these days.
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[User Picture]From: elainegrey
2019-03-12 12:17 pm (UTC)
Heh, i think there's part of me that wants to think i am still in my 20s as far as physical ability goes.

(But i was looking at private rooms/shared bathrooms in the hostel.)
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