My mother had a litre and a half of fluid drained off her lungs yesterday, but she and my sister came here for Christmas anyway. I made her lie on my bed, and we watched movies, I cooked, and we opened presents. Elizabeth gave me a groovy optical mouse in black and silver to match my monitor and keyboard. Mum goes in to the onc tomorrow, and she couldn't remember what they had said, but I know they will throw her in hospital. So I'm doing a little preparing. David had sent me a card saying "2003 will be better" -- holy shit, I hope so. I told him this morning on the phone that 2002 was (even though lousy) better than 2001. Lucia rang this afternoon, and I'd better go ring the Monsters as they are sick, Loosh said. My power didn't go out last night despite high winds. Oh, miracle! The wind was down all day, but now it's back. I have to remember to call my mother at 8 and remind her to take more acetaminaphen. However one would spell it. I gave E a digital camera, and made her take a few pix, but I'll go over tomorrow and set up her computer and teach her how to upload, delete off the camera, etc. I went to see my pater yesterday -- had lunch with him and Shelley, then went off to the Alzheimer's daycare that he goes to several times a week. Shelley is having a rough time, but the, my mum's having a rough time, I'm having a rough time, EVERYBODY (well, a lot of people, anyway) is having a rough time. I think she'll park him soon, and who could blame her? I've already started thinking about how in the world I can manage to visit him -- gee, that's going to be very hard. It reminds me of visiting Mildred in the lock-down ward -- she was a runaway, but everyone else had Alzheimer's. This place is much nicer -- bigger, but with good facilities, nice staff. I didn't hear anyone screaming or crying, but maybe that just means the sound-proofing is better. Where M was, there was an old priest who lurked by the door and wanted to slip out, a woman who rocked a babydoll all the time, a man who crawled and hit walls, a woman who constantly cried "Help me, help me." I can't help but think it might be their desire to die -- how awful is it if someone escapes and dies of exposure? Compared to 5 or 10 years of maintenance? At that particular place things were stolen, too, which is probably a common cruelty when it comes to the aged. How people can live with themselves I don't know. Mildred was robbed many times -- way before she ever went there. Wow, the wind has picked up and is in rather a fury. Hope the power stays on -- I'll have to consult "Mystery Eyes Jesus" (from Jim and Lucia). Also, Jim made a diorama of a lanscape at sunset, with a path. A wind-up brain (with lesions) advances towards the sunset (at a smart clip at first, although it poops out too soon). Nice!