Coming soon to a theater near you is the name of the "rehabilitation center" that sent my mother off yesterday without doctoring her pneumonia. My sister called me yesterday afternoon in tears and anger.

This so-called rehab center released my mother to a nursing home yesterday. The drivers had to stop the conveyance twice because she couldn't breathe. The nursing home refused to accept her because her oxygen count was too low. She was taken to a local emergency room. The rehab center didn't bother to call Patricia at work. She didn't know what had happened until she called the nursing home to see if Mother was settled in. Apparently, they were intent on scaring Mother to death.

All is pending. Patricia is going to need some relief in a day or two.

I await her word.

Yes, I know, I'm spluttering. Better that than the language I want to use.

LATER: Mother has asked for me. I leave tomorrow. I HATE this drive.

Two pissed-off Davenport girls. Somebody is going to think, "This sucks".

She's pretty, and I'm smart and we can take 'em all.