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The last ten days or so have felt like I have been a patient in an insane asylum. But, yesterday, everything came together as we finally formulated a plan for my mother. Her doctor has been less than human while he tells us that “she’s old” and “physical therapy is the answer”. Silly man. Obviously, he’s new here and seems to forget similar interactions we had when I was advocating for my step-father while he too was very ill. I won those rounds as well.

Yesterday, he discharged her with PT orders and overrode my request for Hospice. I, being the delightful ray of sunshine, overrode his orders and secured a spot for my mother in the hospice system. As he walked away from me yesterday, I saluted him with my middle-finger. Adios, asshole.

It was a beautifully orchestrated scene where within two hours of chatting with the Hospice nurse, a hospital bed and wheelchair were delivered to my mother’s home. My hubby and youngest moved furniture to accommodate the bed while my sister coordinated the discharge at the hospital. Once she arrived home, everything was in place. I am surprised you all didn’t hear my exhale. It was pretty loud.

It took a while for everything to come together, but Hospice has been amazing. My mother was happy to be home and we have a plan of care in place. It’s amazing what happens when I trust the process. I just wish the process hadn’t taken as long as it did. Patience has never been a close companion.