The nurse has ordered mom pressure stockings, as her ankles have swollen (she sleeps sitting up in the tv lounge, instead of in her bed). I don’t think she realizes yet where she is, and which room is hers. When my niece and her kids went to see her, mom said the tv lounge was ‘her room’ and invited them to have a seat.
The nurse has also ordered mom supplements and medications: simivastin, vitamin D, a multivitamin, one antacid with calcium, one antacid without, acetaminophen, loperamide, milk of magnesia, alprazolam, and quetiapine. That last one, quetiapine, is one of those cute “branding” names that makes a desirable concept (in this case “quiet”) subliminally appealing. Like Lubiprostone (which marries “lubricate” with “prostrate” in a constipation drug) or the two most popular Dementia drugs: Aracept (“perception” anyone?), and Namenda (mend remember?). Unfortunately, all that clever marketing is wasted on my mom, who is practically a Christian Scientist when it comes to medication. She won’t willingly take a single pill; and the caregivers’ attempts to hide it in her food seem to be failing. Instead, she seems to be creating little piles of medicine-infused food on the edge of her plate, as she eats around it.
I find the piles curious, and beautiful in their own way. Here are a couple of photographs.

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