Today, there were two Dysphagiagrams, evidence of troublesome phlegm, a speech pathologist who gave him tongue exercises (you can imagine how well that went), and the palpable sense that Dementia was now and would forever be running the show.
But there were also a medical Yelp review.
As mentioned yesterday, my father likes ripping out his IV and swatting off his oxygen mask, so mittens were put back on his hands and a protective vest back on his chest, which he liked about as much as Trump likes depositions and Impossible™ Burgers.
“Would you take these stupid things off my hands?” my father demanded.
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