My sister sent me the following email at 1:23PM PST:

Hey, David.

Have you spoken to any of Mom’s doctors yet? I was wondering if you have heard anything new about their diagnosis or Mom’s release date, etc.

Love you.

[name redacted]

I replied — and I probably should have been less harsh — about twenty minutes later:

Hey [name redacted],

No, I have not spoken with Dr. Caliendo since last week. (I told you all about it.)

He is the only doctor that is relevant at this point.

I have had several email exchanges with Sophia Mas, the therapist assigned to mom, and I have either copied you or forwarded to you all of them and all of my responses.

Sophia sent me an email this morning but I have not yet had a chance to reply. I’ll do that in just a minute.

I called last night and talked to mom for just a couple of minutes. (I spoke with Anna at the nurses station for a few minutes first. She was very nice but didn’t provide any meaningful information.) Mom sounded a little drunk. She began by telling me how much Jesus loves me and how as long as we put our faith in Jesus, everything will be okay. It was a little strange because she hasn’t tried talking to me (seriously) about God or Jesus in about twenty-five years. She called me [name redacted] throughout the whole conversation, though, so maybe she couldn’t understand who I was. After she explained that Jesus loves me, she made me promise not to let anyone ever come between us and that was about it. She didn’t seem interested in talking, or maybe like she was ashamed to be using the phone. It was very sad. (Though SHE didn’t seem sad.)

I haven’t heard anything about a diagnosis, either. Anna the nurse last night indicated that some people stayed at Stewart-Marchman for just a couple of days, while others required several weeks or more to “stabilize”.

Sophia and Anna both told me that they have had to change mom’s roommate several times because she insists on going through their things, trying to steal their stuff, and generally pushing them to exasperation.

I’m confused by your reference to a “release date”. You do understand that there is not going to be a “release date”, right? She isn’t going to move in with [name redacted] or [name redacted], and she is never going to move back into her apartment and live alone again. She is never going to be able to live somewhere without constant supervision, so it’s not even like she could move in with you or me. Mom is going to be staying at Stewart-Marchman until we move her into a long-term care facility, like an ALF. I can’t imagine being able to afford — or having the time — to fly to Florida to do anything until at least the middle of January.