Helping the rehab with Roach was like having a job for a week. We had goals, some of which were do-able and others, because I was new at the job, were beyond what was possible. Given time, these goals: stand up without assistance, dress self, use bathroom without assistance, etc., must be achieved if the ultimate goal, return to The Oaks as an ALF resident (we can kiss independence goodbye), is ever to be met.
Motivation: scare the crap out of her with images of nursing home or, as it turns out, a shared apartment. Remind her of improvements made in course of three weeks. Frequent attagirls. Reminder that the Irish simply do not quit. (Ask the English.)
Carrot and Stick: Must sit in wheelchair for dinner, but dinner is a burger and fries from Checkers.
Goals reached: sat in chair for 4 hours while hair was washed, cut and set. Sat in chair for 5 hours while fresh air breathed outside, PT completed, lunch in Felini-esque dining room managed and visit from kindly doctor endured. Began to take in reality of situation.
Bonus: Gave the knuckle.
See you soon, old lady.