But in the ICU she recieved awesome attention and care, and she grew strong enough to eventually get her into a regular room. All the while physical therapists did try to get her going as much as possible so her way delayed rehabilitation could continue. But she was still pretty weak since she was only recieving IV nutrients. When she was finally able to have some broth she was ecstatic.

Finally, on March 2, she was sent to a different rehab location. One with no psych cases. Things were looking up...
Obviously, that wouldn't last.
Yesterday, March 17, she was sent back to the hospital. See, she won't eat the food at the rehab place. At all. For two weeks she's survived on sips of water and juice, some yogurt and some broth. She's given a bunch of pureed food daily, but she won't touch it. She says it tastes horrible and is always cold. Truthfully, she's right. But we kept telling her that she was killing herself and needed to eat no matter what it tastes like, but she would just yell and cry and really, after a while, you just have to stop. My sister has more time and patience and still would try to force it on her, but with little success. I barely tried. Sure enough things got worse and worse. My sister and I told the nurses she looked too weak and maybe needed to go back to the hospital, but they said they had to wait for results from blood tests and the doctor's orders, etc. We told them to call us no matter what. So yesterday they send her to the ER at 4 AM and never bothered calling us. You can't fucking win with these people and places. My sister raised all kinda of Hell, and really, it's not over, but for now, the focus is back at the hospital. And of course, last night my mother would barely touch the food. Different locale, same result. There's only so much my sister and I can take...