While she moves it, I will lose it.

I have this ball of anxiety sitting in the middle of my chest.  It makes things like eating, breathing and generally being happy slightly difficult.  After last week and Saturday specifically, I keep waiting for the ball to drop.  Onto my head.  Like a cartoon anvil.  Yeah. 

I may or may not have sought assistance from an herbalist/horticulturist to assist me here.

I'll start with Saturday's escapades.  Casey and I walk in and he asks how the carpet got stained.  I'm like "whaaaaa?"  He says "yeah, there's a huge stain."  And then we look into it further and it's not a stain, it's a big fucking puddle.  My mom comes traipsing out of her closet, which was completely dark, we had no idea she was even in there and scared the shit out of us.  Honestly, I don't know who was more scared- her or me.  We're like "Where did this water come from?"  She, naturally, has no clue.

We follow the water into her closet and then the out and to the bathroom.  There is water all over the floor.  The toilet tank is dripping like a mofo.  It's 11:15am.  WHERE THE FUCK ARE THE NURSES?! 

I instantly switch into Producer Jess mode, which means I'm out the door before Casey even gets the water off in search of someone to punch.  I find a nurse in the dining room, serving lunch.  Does anyone else feel like a nurse shouldn't be serving lunch and should be helping patients or at least keeping a fucking eye on the patients? 

" xxx I need a maintenance guy in my mom's room NOW."  My voice is low and growling.

"Maintenance guy, I don't have one."  The nurse says.

"Well, there's water all over the fucking floor in my mom's room. You better get someone in there IMMEDIATELY."   The nurse gets a look of pure panic on her face.  There are very few people that see this particular side of me.  The few that have usually end up in tears. 

I go back to the room and Casey and I are met by my cousins who had come to take Mom out so we could go through her stuff and get rid of stuff.

With mom out and distracted, we took a video and began the cleanout.  I emailed the video to both the executive director and the nursing director.  It's fair to say that I'm still livid about the situation.   I threw all my anger into the clean out and was happy to say that it allowed for a completely impartial trashing.  None of the "Oh, I know she'd like this" or "this is so sentimental!" crap.  We were able to fit all of her clothes into her closet and dresser.  It was awesome. 

Fast forward to Monday.  Still nothing from the director of nursing or from the executive director.  We pick my mom up, I turn in the keys and take mom out.  Good fucking riddance.  Before we left, though, we found mom, in a temporary room upstairs, flopped sideways on the bed, obviously not checked on at all.  We discuss with the nurse on duty and she said she didn't even know my mom was not staying in her room and was actually looking for her until she ran into the maintenance man who knew where my mom was.  NO ONE HAD TOLD ANYONE THAT MY MOM WAS IN A DIFFERENT ROOM!?  WTF?!  There is absolutely no communication from anyone in the old facility.

My mom has started wandering.  For someone to have eyes on her or know where she is is of the utmost importance for us.  Her new facility is secure (meaning she can't get out without someone being with her).  I know she will be safe.  I know she will be on a schedule.  I know she won't be alone and by herself in her room. I want her happy.