The Great Escape

The Great Escape

My Mom has been convalescing after heart surgery at a rehabilitation center and doing great. While Mom is a temporary resident, there are many where this is now their permanent home. The center is neat as a pin, attractively arranged, warm, clean smelling and efficient. On the surface everything looks perfect, but there is a bit of a rumble under the veneer.

The only deficiency is the food. It is nutritionally balanced, devoid of unnecessary fats and salts; which means it tastes terrible. My Mom eats sparingly because the vegetables are overcooked and everything else kind of tasteless. Mom is lucky because her tray comes with salt and pepper shakers. Those who are not so lucky, then borrow Mom’s condiments to doctor their food. Despite their collective efforts, the food still tastes bad.

From Mom’s description most meal conversations revolve around food: how much it is despised there and better in their memories. The residents contemplate striking. The plan largely entails rejecting the food and throwing it back in their faces. Mom doesn’t believe it will happen though they just love to fantasize about the idea of tossing food around. To give a little more life to the conversation, Mom has been diverting their attention by providing anecdotes of our eating adventures: raccoon, insects and whatever else comes to mind. The ladies just love being grossed out, then offer their own tales of the dining table.

Mom observed another resident frequently got luncheon salads, which often looked better than her tray. Mom wrote a note to the kitchen asking for luncheon salads. She included in her request they surprise her with the combinations. Mom’s elderly dining companions are terribly impressed by Mom’s salads and the power of her pen. They have requested Mom write notes to kitchen on their behalf because she has the “magic touch.”

In the past few days, a pair of elderly ladies did what most residents dream about: escape! They ordered a taxi, hovered around the lobby until it arrived, then took off to a nearby 24-hour Greek family diner. They dined on beef Stroganoff, then returned via taxi to the center. The caretakers were unaware of their departure until they returned. There was quite a big to-do with the big question of where did the money come to finance their exploit. Mom said this 90+ year old lady wore a saucy expression as she explained, “A lady never says where her money comes from or how she got it.” Since this unauthorized departure Mom advised there is a higher level of respect for these ladies amongst the residents.

Before Thanksgiving, a pair of diabetics also took off via taxi to go on a food binge. Unfortunately they had to call back to the center when they arrived to their destination with only $3 in the collective pockets. They may have left a bit better funded, unfortunately they didn’t take into account the cost of a taxi.

Mom can thank her lucky stars she is merely visiting this center. Though the whole experience reminds me of my dear departed friend Mr. Fortuna: “The perks of advanced old age are highly overrated.”

Regards,

Cathy,
As you've done before, this is a "made my day" post.
Thanks for a delightful tale.

I've been lucky enough never to be hospitalized myself, but in my experience the one thing every institutionalized person craves is corned beef sandwiches. Salt, fat, chewy bread -- it's everything they don't want you to have wrapped up in waxed paper. There'd better be a good pickle slice in there too.