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My friend and former landlord, Adele, fell and broke her rotator cuff. At 76, her vision is decreasing and this last tumble has landed her in a Glendale nursing home. There are no phones in the rooms. If you want to call someone, you dial a pay phone number and wait until a passerby with substandard English picks up. They may take a message that will be left at the nursing station. If you are old with broken bones, you can haul your lazy butt out of bed and go check for calls. Adele's sister is working on getting her a plain, ordinary cell phone. Adele says with a smile that then she can then call everyone at all hours and complain about the nursing home.
In any case, she will be in there over Thanksgiving. I am grateful that I will be home with my darling wife.
I am also grateful that I have a big screen TV. However, I am not grateful for the dead rat in the vent. Just to watch football on Thursday, I'll have to light more candles than a New Age wedding.
Hopefully, we'll avoid a fire.
5 comments:
Thanksgiving in an awful nursing home.
That really sucks.
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