So, I girded my loins (do women have loins?), and headed on over to the home to try and find Dad’s missing clothes. As I approached the nurses station, I saw Dad heading over from the opposite direction. He had a slip of paper in his hand and said, “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t have any money and I need to pay for my lunch.” I told him the bill was taken care of but he said, “Well, I don’t know if that’s true.”
ah the love and faith and shit.
The nurse took the slip and said the bill was taken care of, so we could sit down and visit. In the meantime, I asked the nurse to get hold of the laundry so I could try to find Dad’s missing clothes. So when the PT guy came for Dad, Dante, the housekeeping director escorted me down to the laundry, but none of his clothes were there. So we filled out forms and made lists of missing items and then his nurse said, “What about the clothes in his closet?” I said, “What clothes in what closet?”
Apparently, Dad has a closet with a dirty laundry bag in it that the aides kept stuffing his clothes in, on top of another man’s soiled (and I do mean soiled) clothes (I guess he died). The laundry was never told to start picking up Dad’s clothes, so I had to sort through Dad’s filthy things and some dead guy’s shitty things so that I could give Dante Dad’s things to wash and the nurse could dispose of the dead guy’s things.
i mean ugh…just fuckin’ ugh
As I was leaving, I found myself muttering, “I won’t ever go back. This is the last time. I won’t ever go back.” Of course, I will go back…but I sure don’t want to.
Anybody out there know when this stuff starts getting easier?