Bad Day

Mom had her first physical therapy session, and didn't like it.  I left shortly after the first session, and my sisters, who visited afterward, reported that she was depressed:  said she had no home and wanted to die.  Part of the problem is her anxiety, which brought back all the mayhem of her homecoming.

She's a nervous person--always has been.  What I found frustrating is Mom gets started rising from the bed/chair, gets to the point where I think 'she's going to make it' then sits back down with a thump.  It is maddening to watch her quit, and at least the therapists know she needs extra coaching.  After they left, Mom said they ( the two therapists) were like two annoying cheerleaders.

I will write more later, but I only got three hours of sleep, so I am taking a nap before my visit.  If I'm lucky, I can finish this post on the rec. room computer.