14h10 UTC; SUNDAY, 28 SEPTEMBER 2014: First: Please to pay no heed, reader, for the snarky image of comics-page feline Garfield leading off this post; such is designed solely to attract your attention.

To business, then: For some while now, Your Correspondent hath this habit of not posting to this very blog on Sundays, in the belief that even bloggers deserve some rest every now and then. However, developments with my 93-year-old mother compel me to make this rare exception (and even then, Your Correspondent isn't usually one to blog about his family).

Developments going back to a rather bad fall she had in the bathroom of her nursing-home apartment in Caledonia, MN back in mid-August which, thankfully, saw no broken bones (but then again, considerable lower-back pain and bruising did ensue) ... and which have been rather challenging for her since. And in just the last week have started crossing into deterioration big-big time, what with her having occasional episodes of diarrhea and loss of appetite where she doesn't seem interested in eating anything, even soft, bland foods.

The deterioration being all the more evident in a phone call I had with her last evening, where she had the idea that she was relocated to somewhere in Wisconsin (no specific town being named, mind you) even though I was able to reach her on her accustomed telephone exchange (and answering on the third ring for some reason or another). Sensing something fishy might be up in her remarks, I promptly followed with a call to the Nurses' Station at the nursing home explaining the circumstances to hand, whereupon the duty nurse decided to check up on her and see whether something light (e.g., broth or Jell-O) might be in order for her taste, especially if supper didn't quite agree with her. As well, the situation is being referred to the staff physician, as calls on the nursing home once a week to do the clinical rounds.

(A dear and close sister of mine down Tucson way, when I explained the tone and tenor of mother's remarks, felt that the effects of her recent fall may have aggravated her current state of mental chaos and confusion. But such isn't the first time such was an issue with her: About a year ago this time, mother's comments during phone calls I had with her were crossing the line into the irrational and the illogically absurd, and so much so that I was asked to stay in Winona for Thanksgiving last year. Fortunately, some tweaking with her medication cocktail around the Christmas/New Year's period helped things somewhat psychologically.)

In any event, though, things may or may not be looking good for my mother, with whom I acknowledge having quite the bond and attachment to for all my nearly 53 years (my birthday being this Thursday, know), and it's likely that things could suddenly and spontaneously deteriorate from here on out. How much longer things can go on, I lack the answer for.

Hence, in closing this post, I would encourage you readers to think about my mother in your thoughts and prayers at this time ... and what's more, if you're willing to offer me anything in the way of gifts to make the pain of possible sudden loss all the less so, please feel free to offer them to me. For one, if you have cash gifts in mind, you could send them through PayPal by clicking on the "donate" button off to the side of the page ... or if you'd rather prefer sending them via letterposts, MoneyGram or Western Union, contact me via the e-mail feedback form towards the bottom of the page and I'll send you instructions in e-mail reply.

At least I could use the comfort such could provide, especially because my own mother never had such resources for most of her life. Nor mine, come to think of it. In any case, such will be greatly welcome and appreciated as I go through what may be a trying time for me in the days and weeks ahead.

Thanks for your support in the meantime.

So till next time, folks: "73"
(Which, incidentally, was railroad telegraphers' shorthand for "goodbye.")


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