Fresh and gross, but it’s liquid sunshine!

Dear Jessie,

Whew. My ears are still ringing from the whir of my Juiceman. Those limes sure go down with a fight. I’m still on the life juice kick, as I call it. Steph calls it a catalyst for regurgitation. Anyway, three weeks now; the most consistency I’ve shown for anything in a long time, besides wine, insomnia and eye cream. I just turned this

 

into a gallon of bright green frothy liquid that I will dine on every morning for the next week. Depsite the first cracking of the pitcher and being greeted by whiffs of something akin to liquidized mowed lawn, I’ve grown to love my morning jolt of green. I feel like I’m doing something good for myself, for the world, for Steph, and it kind of gives me a buzz. Yeah, I know–it’s freaking juice.

I started this whole thing for Miss I-only-eat-corn-and-broccoli-and-you-better-cook-the-latter-down-into-a-pile-of-unrecognable-green-mush-covered-with-orange-cheese. Now she hides when I break it out, even though I pour it into shot glasses to make it fun like a party. I’m like, I’m gonna find you somewhere in these 800 square feet, and you’re gonna take it, and we’re gonna live forever with no wrinkles and very little sagging. Sadly it remains my jug of life juice, as Steph still prefers Kool-Aid and tater tot casserole to get her going in the morning. Thank God she has an appointment with a nutritionist next week who specializes in breast cancer patients. Sigh.

Dead cucumbers and kale guts,

Britt

 Cheers!

It’s home-alone night again

Bahrittttttany-

Been thinking of you and Stephie all day girl.  Hope all went well.  Please call me when you can and give me an update. 

I’m jealous of your beer at lunch today.  Just to let you know, I ate an entire family size portion of 4 season green beans for lunch.  I am probably suffering froman MSG overdose right now.  I can tell you one thing, I am super thirsty.  It wasn’t a beer in downtown Chicago though.  Piss!  Damn real life …… I want my imaginary life with mid-day drinking, big city fun. 

Sooooo, after ”Shit Storm Monday” (as it is now known) came “Are You Fucking With Me God? Tuesday”.  Just as I was cozying up on the couch last night, the phone rang.  Lancaster Manor on the caller ID, of course.  Deep breath. 

“Hello?”   

“Hi Jessica, this Tammy (head night nurse).  There has been an incident involving your mother.”

Tammy proceeds to tell me that my mother was MOLESTED on Monday evening after I left.  A man named Tom wheeled himself up to my mother’s chair and was caught by one of the staff touching the insides of her thighs and between her legs. 

**Appropriate pause so you can yell “What the fuck?!?!?”**

So, this Tom fellow is in his late 80’s.  From my experience he is a pleasant individual.  He is definitely one of the more coherent of the group.  We’ve had plenty of conversations about his time in the military, him once being an extra in a western movie, and his degree in math.  He’s a flirty guy, but always pretty cool around me.  He likes to whistle when he sees us sitting and talking in the cafeteria.  He sings show tunes and knows everyone’s names. 

There is another side to him though.  I don’t know if it’s an effect of old age or just who he is.  Occasionally, his friendly banter will turn perverted.  He’ll ask old, demented ladies if they want to touch his pickle.  I even watched him ask one of the loony, out of it women to kiss him once.  She did.  I thought it was funny (I’m a sick, sick individual.  I know.) 

Anyway, I knew he was a little off, but totally thought he was harmless.  I mean, how much can you get away with while stuck in a wheel chair attached to an oxygen tank, right?  Although, sometimes his coversations were inappropriate, my mom has no problem sticking up for herself.  She calls him names and shoos him away.  Plus, he’s one of the only residents that talks to her on a regular basis.  Most of the old bittys there can’t hear, and my mom can’t see.  It’s hard to carry on a conversation, you know?  I was just grateful that there was another person in that place that could see her as human being needing a little human interaction.

I’ve seen him get repremanded by the staff before, and there are plenty of residents that he is not allowed near.  Now I know why, I guess.

Anyway, Tammy had to call me, as it is policy to notify the family when they are making an incident report.  He is now not allowed to come near my mom and the staff are on high alert.  Tammy even said that she would be calling his Dr.  Apparently there is a medication they can give that will kill a man’s sex drive. 

After that call, I just shut my phone off.  I couldn’t handle anymore on a Tuesday.

I feel like I should be more outraged than I am.  That maybe a different person would call the authorities and make a case out of it.  She is incapacitated and unable to defend herself.  It is NOT OK.

The truth is that place is a mad house….an insane asylum.  I’m not shocked really, just frustrated.  At least I can rest knowing that she doesn’t remember any of it. 

Ok, off to switch laundry and unload the dishwasher…..and fill up a glass of wine.  The week is more than half over.  THANK GOD.

rainbows and unicorns, fer

ps.  They play top 40 music in the cafeteria in the evenings.  We were listening to Kelly Clarkson “Because of you” the other night when my mom said “This reminds me of my mom.”  You and me both, lady.