Labels, letters, lame jokes

A "home healthcare" nurse came to visit today. It's our way of easing us all into hospice.

And I just ... I mean, I realize I've been on the inside of this situation and I can't expect everyone to be where we are and to know what we know. But the endless and stupid questions and comments just seem so ... endless and stupid. "You have a lot of hair for having gone through chemo!" "Maybe I should go through chemo so my hair won't be so thin." And then you try to explain, even briefly, what the last six years have been like so they know why you're asking for their help and to explain to them how they can be helpful ... and you get nothing. They can give you nothing, I guess, because they see this all the time. I guess. "You're really lucky. Most people who hire us have no one." And it's not that I don't feel bad for those people. I do. But just because we have each other doesn't make us "lucky."

My mom had to sign six or so forms for the nursing agency. Each time, she signed her name differently . Sometimes, she would add an extra "p"--other times, she added several extra letters to our last name. Another time, she started over from the beginning in the middle. (Earlier in the morning, I sat with her while she "relabeled" all her pill bottles with creatively spelled drug names.) She finally got it right on the last form. The nurse didn't seem to care.

My mom's name (which means "love") in Hindi:

प्रेम