Back to that Hell Hole

Daddy was very slow to heal from his surgery, took almost three weeks before he was up and moving with the physical therapists. I could tell he was in a lot of pain, but he was pushing through. He hadn't given up hope, but I was having to pull Momma's strength an courage up from her stomach. She was and is always on the brink of destruction emotionally, she hides it well though. My brother was not helping...





This experience with the social worker was a little better, but not by much. We made it clear that Daddy would only be at the nursing home for rehab purposes until he could get into our house. Our house has two huge stairs of a cement porch to be able to get into the main level of the house. My Momma had been chronically ill a few years ago so we knew we would need the same kind of set up for Daddy, but until then, he was stuck in the nursing home hell hole. This time at least his room mate was sane and pleasant. I brought in more pictures and drawing and AIR FRESHENERS... This place... I dreaded having to leave him there alone.... I felt bad for every person stuck there.




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