I don't know what was weird, but that was clear as a bell.
A. told me Mom often doesn't sleep in her bed. She's agitated ("end of life agitation"), can't seem to get comfortable, wants to be around people, so they bring her out to the living room with her oxygen and settle her in a recliner for the night.
I took over some new clothes - cute little zip up jacket in pink, fuchsia tee-shirt and nice black sweatpants. While she slept off her two bites of turkey at the dining table, I took the opportunity to go through her closet. Got rid of clothes that weren't hers (there were quite a few), weeded out the too small stuff, hung up pants on pant hangers (!), and arranged shirts by color. (Shut up.)
A woman visiting her father brought her Landseer Newfoundland named Oreo. It was hilarious watching Avery and Oreo play - Oreo's head was bigger than the entire puppy! Someone said Avery had cattle dog in her and sure enough, she was nipping at Oreo's heels trying to herd him. That skill might come in handy, herding seniors to the dining room for instance.
Seriously though, what a great idea for a facility like CB to adopt their own dog. The administrator said they've received many emails and phone calls saying that very same thing. (now they need a cat!)
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Speaking of cats - here's a typical morning scenario:
I had turkey, cauliflower broccoli
au gratin, and chipotle cranberry sauce for dinner. The last item is kinda cheating, but I made it myself and there's very little sugar in it.
For dessert I had an obscene amount of whipped cream.
And I may have more later.
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I've been watching The Monkees on Netflix. Too funny.
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