“When fascism comes to America, it will not be in brown and black shirts. It will not be with jackboots. It will be Nike sneakers and smiley shirts. Smiley-smiley.”
— George Carlin
Marty drove me to Blue Bank Hall for my session of Mombo Care, because Joan’s truck was still down here at the farm and I did not want to leave Dana without the Avalon. Joan hit a deer last week when I was here and needed the vehicle until Jay could determine that her sedan was safe to drive. Another scar for “The Silver Bunkit.” It was abnormally busy here, with visits from the home-health nurse and occupational therapist, but that phase is probably at an end. Medicare won’t continue to pay, as long as no further progress is being made, according to evaluations. One does not need to spend much time with these providers to learn that they rate Mombo at the top of her age group, based on the attitude and overall physical condition of those they treat. It makes me realize that anyone better than her has not qualified for federal home care and those worse than her do not have as good a mindset to make best use of what is clearly beneficial, wellness-oriented therapy. Another bewildering example of the ongoing clash between the dominant disease-care system and the bureaucracy of collectivist social programs. The OT gal was telling Mombo that she sees people abuse a support system by wanting to be waited on, but that she admires Mombo for using the availability of support to enable her improvement. She seemed to be overcome with genuine emotion with the recognition that this probably would be her last visit.