SuZQ, Tish and I scurried around like deranged squirrels getting it all up and going. We did our best to make things as much like normal as possible. Jordan hooked her up with her favorite television minister and the cable guy got her phone working. She gets to keep the number that she's had all my life ( I might have, sort of threatened that cutest cable boy with some hell fire and damnation if he didn't make that happen, maybe).
I spent Sunday day and Sunday night. I helped serve communion at Vespers and met Jeanine, Virginia, Barbara, Joanne, Lillie, Jane, Irvin, Butch and Kaye so far.
As is often the case, we want something for Mom that Mom isn't interested in- making friends, having a life.
Today, Handy Man and I headed back to her house to continue what I've been doing since June, sorting and storing. It is a depressing job going through someone else's things. Trying to determine what will have value to someone. Bleah.
In the middle of sorting we got a phone call that when she pushed the button on her lift chair, it started smoking. Oh, my, that is never good. I hurriedly straightened my sorting mess whilst Handy Man went through ever drawer with anything left in it seeking tools and off we dashed. Interestingly, a maintenance man was in the elevator and said there was an empty apartment somewhere with nothing but a chair, and if we couldn't get it fixed to talk to the nurse and he'd try to check on the other chair.
Hmm, just a chair, sitting in an empty apartment, doesn't leave much to the imagination about said chair's owner. Bleah.
Well, the remote was burned up with my mother reclined in the chair- are you kidding me. Add to the fun, she has a UTI and needed out of the chair, pronto. Handy Man, you are my hero. So, it can't be fixed, so I hightail it to the nurse who is completely exasperated along with Aunt Tish, as they've been trying since yesterday to reach the doc about the UTI, and the nurse tells me she's been working at this all day and has never even laid eyes on my Mom, doesn't even know who she is, though she has her room number down pat. Turns out she doesn't know the maintenance man either. What?
Listen, the cardinal rule of a teacher is that you immediately find out who the person who fixes things in the school is and make him your friend, if you know what is good for you. I've been bringing yummy treats to the fixer in our school for ten years, until he retired. I sent the current one, even though he's just a sub, on his way on fall break with a favorite CD. It is just the smart thing to do.
So, Handy Man and I dash out to medical supply places and at the first one this little sweetie tells me that it can be ordered but it takes two to three weeks. At this point I'm past not having fun, I'm a bit testy and reply, "Why in the world would it take two to three weeks to get a part for something that allows a frail, elderly person to get up out of her chair?" "Well," she replies, "They don't care, they already have your money." Bleah.
So the next place tells us Monday, which sounds infinitely better than two to three weeks, but not the answer I wanted either. Bleah. In the meantime, Miss Nursey must have located the mysterious maintenance man, or not, as what she tells us is that he has gone home. No one else in the building has a clue as to the whereabouts of this chair. Bleah. And, still no word from the doctor.
So glad we've moved her somewhere safe and secure, where she will get good care. Well, not right now I'm not. Perhaps we'll get there.