No, not like that!
I just meant that I checked in with Mom last night for the first time since Monday. And everything is OK.
Mom took Dad to see Wiggans Wednesday. I forgot all about it and never made any arrangements to take them or go myself. Mom can't lift Dad's big four-wheeler SUV of a walker so he used her three-wheeler. Don't know if they carried Mom's oxygen in the basket. Susan thought it would have been so romantic if they had. He still thinks Dad's struggles to recover are tied to over medication so he stripped off a couple more prescriptions which I think is great news.
Dad's also discovered that in addition to tasting vile, Ensure makes him gassy, farty, bloated and cranky. So I think he's done with that. Eat up D-Don, be strong!!!
Frieda (sp?) came and sat with Dad while Annie Sparks took Mom to her treatment yesterday. The treatment went smoothly and quickly. Apparently a lot of the time Monday was still set up. Yesterday they had all the proper coordinates locked in and took the machine up to warp speed right off the bat. Still don't know how many more treatments are left. Mom remembers Dr T telling her five sessions, but only three treatment sessions are on the books, the last one being next Monday. I'm not sure where the misunderstanding is coming from, but I won't be surprised if the doctors are right. (No disrespect, Mom!)
That's all the events on the horizon until next Monday, when Dad's appointment with Musselman and Mom's treatment session are scheduled dangerously close together. Mom thinks we can all do both...
The good news is that life in the Apt. seems to have reached a plateau of sustainable (in)dependence.