Yesterday was my 90-yr-old mother's first visit from the occupational therapist. Actually, it was the O.C.'s "boss" who evaluates Mom and then her assistant, who "isn't as nice" as "the boss" will work with mother twice a week. After "the boss" left Mom's home, mother was contemplating the coming sessions. She tried to put a positive spin on it all.
"This will be great for me"
"I'll build up endurance"
"My muscle strength will improve".
What she didn't realize was that I heard the following, whispered under her breath, as she walked away assisted by her walker....
"She's going to kill my ass"