Yesterday started out just fine - I was on time for work, traffic was light, at around 7:30 I was getting off the exit at the office when my cell rang. Uh-oh.
Yeah, it was the nursing home. My mother fell, and they were going to bring in a portable x-ray machine to take a look at her hip, because she was in pain. No word later in the day; I expect they won't get the radiologist's report until today. So she is in bed again, which is bad for her lungs, and this sad saga continues.
I should have expected it. We'd had at least a week without a call from the nursing home.
Today is Boy's birthday. How did I get old enough to have a 28 year old son, when I swear I'm only 35?