Pick your battles

I just ran by to see mom knowing full well it was her nap time. Sometimes that's just the best I can do.  Between the current parking construction that has reduced staff and visitors to even less spaces, for the short haul, while they create more, I just have to go when I can go--and, can find a parking place.  If mom's eyes are open, great.  If not, it's not like she's going to remember if I've just been there or not.

Because my sister and I are trying to snap more photos of her, I got a great one of her snoozing away under a blue blanket, not a care in the world, with her TV blaring.  I did turn it down a little and pushed her thermostat a tad warmer, since it was a mite chilly, and she hates to be cold.  Fine when you are sleeping; rough when you wake up, and have to have some " personal adjustments" made, and it's cold. 

I ran into a friend as I was leaving.  She was headed into her Service Conference for her mom.  That's the thing that they have quarterly for you to bring to their attention things that are good or not so good.  I went to the first two with mom a year or so ago, and after that, decided not to waste the 30 allotted minutes of their time when I could do mine in less time with the nurse manager, and they could go on to somebody else.  Today, though, I did get a good laugh.  My friend had brought pieces of her mom's laundry that they had ....well...tortured.  Her mom and my mom are on different floors, but I'm not thinking the laundry is any different, and I will say the one white thing she had brought to show them--I don't even know what it started out as--was cheweddddd uppppp.

My friend wanted to know about mom's care and her laundry, and I had to laugh.  I told her I pick my battles.  As long as mom's care is good, I don't really care what her clothes look like since I figure the people doing the laundry probably:  1) do not read the clothes care labels  2) may not read all that well to start with  3) probably have had to deal with far worse things in people's clothes, than she or I, will ever see  4) how important is it--who sees them anyway?   When they get terrible looking, pitch 'um and head for Target or JCP.

I showed up last time to find mom in some other lady's lovely light blue slacks and cashmere sweater.  I know they weren't her clothes because I've packed her up through three moves now, and I've yet to ever lay eyes on this particular ensemble, lovely though it was.  I found a man's boxers in her closet once, too, so I just don't sweat it anymore.  Yes, they have name tags in them but to be effective, the tags must be read.  For the most part, they do one heck of a job--all of it-- and it's one you could not pay me enough to do, so I am grateful.  And giggling.  Mom looked really nice in that other lady's clothes.  I can't wait to see what she's wearing next time.