The Half of it Dearie Blues

This  morning  I thought life was going fairly well,.  a different health aide came and we got mom out of the upholsterted chair.  That's been the extent of our progress.  Now, Mom refuses to move from the wheelchair to the other chair so I can change her soiled diaper.  We are going to wait for the men to move the hospital bed, then change her when she gets on the bed.

I guess it is what you'd call either a 'forlorn hope' or the "Hail Mary pass".  Given Mom's current mood, I don't know if she's going to move from the wheelchair to the bed.  As a matter of fact, she seems to be determined to remain motionless--not to move at all.  It's the ultimate in passive aggressiveness:  she retains power by claiming she can't get out of her wheelchair.

First, she said her knees don't lock, or her ankles don't work.  Her legs do move quite nicely when she uses them to scoot her wheelchair from one room to another.  As the visiting nurse observed:  "if you can move your legs, they can support your weight".  But, like the old protest song, she shall not be moved.