I packed up and headed
to Atria, where I spent the day. She actually slept until noon and when she
woke up, she was brighter than she had been the day before. She still
doesn't have a clue what happened or why her fingers are so sore and I must
have explained that to her 100 times.
Her face today looks horrible, as the bruising has set in.
But actually by the time I left at 6 I could see it was
looking better, though anyone seeing her for the first time would be
appalled. Other than being shocked at her appearance, she didn't seem
to be too upset until we were going to the dining room for dinner and she
saw herself again, for the first time in a couple of hours, and decided she
didn't want anybody seeing her, which I certainly understood. (So I ordered
a dinner to be brought to her room before I left to come home.)
Not only did she sleep until noon, but she also took about
an hour and a half nap in the afternoon, so I got a lot of reading in and
actually finished my book, "Broadway Tails:
Heartfelt Stories of Rescued Dogs Who Became Showbiz Superstars" by Bill
Berloni. Fascinating story and there is even a sort of friend of mine
in it -- Moose, who was the first traveling company Sandy for Annie.
I used to chat with Moose at Sacramento's Music Circus every night when I
was driving the local "mutt" in from Davis for his brief stint in Act 1.
My mother's step son is going to
stop by tomorrow and I'll be curious to see what he has to say.
Her main complaint is her
fingers. She can't get it through her head that they are sprained (and
she doesn't know how she sprained them). The big problem is that the
first two fingers on each hand are very sore yet she keeps her hands clasped
together, fingers interlocking. When I give her the old line "It hurts
when you do that? DON'T DO THAT!" she will look very guilty,
unlock her hands and then proceed to squeeze finger in order over and over
again to see if they still hurt.
I pointed out to her that
yesterday, when I tried to clean her up with a wet tissue, the very touch of
the tissue, without pressure, caused her to scream out in pain, so she had
come a long way in a day. But of course, she has lost the ability for
cause and effect relationships and she didn't pay any attention to what I
was saying.
I was drained when I came home.
I don't do anything, really, when I'm there (except today I did a
load of dishes that was piled in the sink), but it is such an emotional
drain on me that I just want to come home and sit, which Polly can't
understand because, dogdammit, it's time for her dinner. NOW.
I'm going back for tomorrow
afternoon. I have lunch with a friend in the morning and Ed will be
there part of the morning anyway. I'll stay until 6 again, but I think
by then I can feel comfortable leaving her alone. given the progress she had
made today.
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