My father will be coming home from the hospital any day. He went last week because he was so weak that he could barely move after he fell. He's doing better, but he'll need round-the-clock supervision. Dad has the impression that he's stronger than he is. I was with him during a visit with a psychiatrist, who saw him because he said he was going to call a taxi and leave. Dad said he thought he was at a bank. He drew a good clock, but put the wrong time on it. He did well on other questions, such as the date, the president, and his personal history, but last night, he kept saying that my mother was at the hospital. She wasn't, and has no way of getting there on her own. When Dad comes home, he'll find some new furniture, some technology to help him, and someone besides Mom to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. What he won't find is a bunch of junk food. I took home four trash bags full of chips, crackers, cookies, pretzels, potato mix, gravy mix, cake mix,
Do-it-yourself health. Low-carb, mostly evolutionary.