Another day inside a hotel room making endless phone calls and wondering in between who the heck am I to encourage people to have any faith? The doctor says fill this prescription right away. Medicaid says it's not covered. The social worker says she can be admitted this week. The hospital says they don't have a bed. It's back and forth and she sleeps through it all, then goes to visit friends all night despite my protests. I need to get out and buy a suitcase, to have her packed, just in case things work out. Things are made worse by my belief that we should do the necessary stuff before we do the more frivolous things she says she wants to do. Rather than talk about it, she draws a line in the sand and refuses to get out of bed. When she rouses at all, it's to insist she can't possibly go to treatment without a new pair of cowboy boots. Yee haw.
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