Day 10 at Grandma’s. Watching her isn’t hard, exactly. It’s just all the time. She’s unsteady on her feet. Going to the bathroom is a precarious operation. There’s a transfer from the wheelchair to the walker , and then from the walker to the toilet. She always wants to go in with the walker on the toilet-side where she’ll get tangled with it. So she’s in jeopardy of falling ten times a day.

Today she did fall.  It was just a sort of collapse onto the carpet and she wasn’t hurt, but it’s the first time she’s wound up on the floor under my watch.  I felt like shit.

People keep saying I’m a saint.  Because I’m doing a tiny stint of hospice care.  I resent it, vaguely.  I’m a selfish dolt.  Surely they know.


Better than digestion or circulation, if you have to lose something.  I guess.

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