After a tough day with Mom, I went home, and watched this movie on TMC Free On Demand. What a perfect play Wilde wrote. Each word was expertly chosen, and the acting from Michael Redgrave, Edith Evans, Dorothy Tutin, Joan Greenwood and company--perfection.
I can empathize with some of Mom's anger. It's rough being hospitalized, unable to bathe yourself, being confused' not knowing where you are. I went through a similar ordeal 4 years ago, and if it was hard at 47, it must be unbearable at 83. She's depressed .
All that being said, I can't say I cared for being the target of her anger. It was easy for the nurse and aide to ignore her: she isn't their Mother, and I am sure patients say the most outrageous things to them. Mom called them a 'pair of goddamn idiots' and when I laughed, she snarled 'you're no better than they are. Why do you enjoy hurting me?". Yeah, Queen Lear was in the house.
It's hospital psychosis, and I hope it ebbs as she adjusts to her new surroundings in the short term rehab facility. The food is better, and the aides will be getting her dressed and taking her to physical and occupational therapy every day. I hope the endorphins might cure her bad mood.
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