” and at the second “Rog!” I jumped from my bed, threw off the loathed CPAP cup, grabbed my 45-year-old homemade brown terrycloth bathrobe and ran to the stairs to confront the whole spectrum of trouble. But there sat Dad in his recliner, reading, munching, happy, perfectly...
Especially when followed by a pot of chamomile tea in their recliner chair lounge. Though there was a slight mishap here with payment and pricing, front office manager Maria was so swift and professional in dealing with this mistake that it leads me to my opening statement...
Mom asked. Her habit has always been to stand, lean over her recliner, and push the slats closed with an old wooden yardstick. But now she waits for me to stand up from the couch or to enter the room, and asks me to do little things she no longer feels like doing. “Bring your ...