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The Chair. This is the Continuous Passive Motion (CPM) chair of pain that Candy is using to rehab her shoulder.
So the bottle of oxycodone (no, not the Rush Limbaugh stuff — that's oxycotin, AKA hillbilly heroin) says every six hours, but yesterday the nurse said every four. So today we started migrating Candy from four to five hour intervals. For obvious reasons, we are coordinating them with Chair Time.
In her stupor, Candy couldn't remember how to operate The Chair this afternoon, and it appears they did not leave us a manual. We spent about ten minutes with me watching her trying to operate the remote, getting frustrated, just about to hand it to me, then she starts pushing the same buttons again but to no avail. I once heard that one definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over while expecting a different outcome. She finally relinquished the remote and we got it working for her.
Then the real fun began.
Grandma and I had a whole other adventure together today, but I'll write more on that tomorrow, err... (checks clock)... today.
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