On my first visit, Ma seemed to be settling into the nursing home. I expected her to demand I take her home, the usual routine when she's been in and out of the hospital and rehab settings.We had a nice visit in the solarium. From there we had a good view of the goings on of the floor. We could see the nurses' station, aides running up and down the hall, and a group of ladies parked in wheel chairs across from the front desk.
"I may be 92, but I look a lot better than most of them." Ma nodded her chin at the wheelchair ladies. Ma does look good. You know she's elderly, but wouldn't peg her age in her 90s.
After sitting in the solarium, she took me on a tour of the facility.
She stopped to give me a peek of the dining room. It was close to lunch time and the dining room was setting up for the noon crowd. The dining room is well appointed, bright and airy. A little too Victorian pink for my taste, but pretty. Small tables of four were set with stemware, silver, and linen napkins folded into fans.
I asked Ma if she was going to eat in the dining room.
"Oh, no. I don't eat in there. I eat in my room or across the hall." (Across the hall from Ma's room is a small break room.)
"How come you don't go down to the dining room to eat?"
"That's where the old ladies eat," she said with some impatience. "I want to eat with the young kids."
I think she means the 70-somethings.
