An email to my sister:

I talked to a nurse named Terri this morning at Halifax. There is a new nurse assigned to her basically every 48 hours, so every other day I need to spend fifteen or twenty minutes explaining the last 63 years to someone new.
She was just starting physical therapy when I called; they’re doing that every day.
Right now the issue is that she is not swallowing her food. Apparently it is common after being intubated to not swallow for a little while because it’s very painful on your throat, so they aren’t particularly worried about this. They said most people start swallowing within a few days of being extubated (when they *remove* the tube) but it’s not totally weird for this to last a week or more. And of course with mom it makes sense that anything would be on the extreme side. So she still has a feeding tube.
Terri said that she was responding to her — one-word answers, but still something is better than nothing — this morning, which is good.
That’s about all I could tell you right now.

She replied to me at 2:10 pm with the following:

Thanks. Any sort of update is good. People keep asking me how she is doing, and I feel like I don’t even know what to say to that. This sucks. I want to talk to her.

Paprika 1 is in a new home on a trial basis through Pawsibilities. Hopefully, she gets along with the other pets and the husband. Funny, but it has been breaking my heart thinking about Paprika. I think it just makes me think about Mom and how she would feel about giving her away. Not to mention the stupid cat made me bond with her while I was there. I hope this home works out.

I got a bill in the mail from Grace Manor. Apparently, we owe them $1014 for the first few days of May when Mom’s furniture was still in the room. I guess it is in the contract. Sucks, but I will send it to them. I guess it helps keep Mom’s funds under $2000 since her Social Security hasn’t been used in 2 months.

No word from Chamberlin Edmonds yet. I called twice today, but the gal I have been talking to has not been there. I will let you know. […]

1 Paprika was the last pet my mom owned, a very fluffy cat.