Mum's just feeling awful, so yesterday I took E grocery shopping, looking at apt. buildings (not going in), then I resubscribed to her antivirus update program and cleaned up her computer so she's in good shape. She's very helpful. The social worker meeting was good, but we can't quite get her to understand about her apt -- that it has to be affordable, on the ground floor, and things might come higher in the pay priority than things she's used to and wants. I was explaining to Lucia that cable isn't a frippery if you are Down's Syndrome and TV is part of the way you interact with the world. Still, my sister thinks she is somehow wedded to her digital cable. Uh... you might have to have...BASIC, E (Don't throw a fit!). She wants to be in Crowne Point, but I explained that they might not have a ground-floor one-bedroom available next month -- if not there are two complexes next door. We'll see. But we need to see pretty damn soon. I'm chronically exhausted. I am going to see "Frida" this afternoon -- as it may be the only time I can do it It can be a jaunt for E. Lucia, Connie, and maybe Susan are coming, as well. I wish my mother had called the onc people yesterday -- but she sees the onc on Wednesday, anyway. She's not draining out of the (sutured) hole into her lung, anymore, which is good. And she seems to have less coughing, etc., going on. But she's nauseous and exhausted, can't really eat as things taste "bitter," and her heart is still fluttering around like a panic-y bird. I was telling Frank about my marriage, on Friday, which he said explained a great deal, and was rather important. I've been going to see him for years (5? who knows) and had never told him about my husband having visions of killing me, me coming back from a show of my paintings in New York and finding he had been sleeping on the floor with a knife alongside his pallet, me getting a restraining order and having to face him in court (and the judge signing the order even though he had no real evidence to do so, and making it perpetual in response to Vance's sarcastic remark that it was fine and "why don't you make it perpetual as long as you're at it." The judge could see.), and finally Vance committing suicide five years after we split. I was scared of him -- he was very big. And mean. The meanness grew right out of the mental illness and the bad things his dad did to him -- when he was taking his meds he was nice. Mentally ill people can twist the verbal knife, however, and aren't held back from twisting the real knife, either.