October 23: At the Respite facility. Soon the nurse will come around and tell me it is time for my Lactulose which I take twice a day.
Hi! Thought I would send you a picture.
[A little chat:]
R: Hi, thank you. I’ve posted your note. Please keep them coming.
I’m sorry to hear about your neighbor — for you and her both.
I guess you are her witness. In a way, that’s a sort of privilege.
Maybe she feels like you do and doesn’t want to be alone either.
This may sound unusual but what if you introduced yourself?
What’s the worst that could happen? Often, when we do
something for someone else, or speak to someone else,
it makes us feel good.
Mom: I understand what you’re saying, Rob, but dying is a very private matter and a dying person needs to feel s/he can vomit, do whatever they need to do to die as comfortably as possible.
Soon they will bring “dinner”—I can smell it. It is not the greatest odor!!
R: Ha ha!!!!!
Sorry. Not funny I suppose…
I guess I’m glad you are expressing strong opinions!
Well, it’s pitiful, I guess you’d say!