Mother's Day at Rehab

They said I had to go to rehab, and I said no, no no...
These were probably not the lyrics I should have been thinking about as I walked in to the rehab facility, but then again, my Grandma does love to tell people no.
My Grandma got sick sometime in late March. I say sometime because my family lied to me about what was going on with her. I only found out because they couldn't come up with a better excuse not to come see me give several readings and lectures that were suppose to be the culmination of years of work as an undergraduate.
Every semester I was at MSU, she managed to get sick. You would think, eighth time over, that I would stop getting upset about it, but I always manage to. Even when I think "oh, I seem fine," something happens that proves to me I'm clearly not okay. Last semester, I was at an open mic night and a young woman played a song she wrote for her Grandmother, and I ended up sobbing. Luckily, no one took notice.
My Grandma was really happy to see us. She was smiling and making silly faces as I tried to take pictures of her. I really want a picture of her hands. I think her hands, with their large veins, are fascinating. I realize other people hate the veiny look, but I think it's beautiful, like an abstract painting.

We mostly spent a little time having ice cream and cake to celebrate Mother's Day. My Grandma had a piece of chocolate cake with a pink petal on top of it. She attempted to eat around it, which eventually caused the cake to tip over from its own weight. We had a nice conversation as a family.
A man with a ukele was in the cafeteria, playing Hank Williams and Neil Diamond songs. He was an excellent musician, though the kind of singer that so many people hate. As he was working though the Carter Family's "Let the Circle Be Unbroken," I thought about how much I wish I would magically summon a singer-songwriter I like in (Double Saginaw Familiarity, Spitzerspace Telescope, Priscilla Ahn, Robert Francis, Liz Phair...) rather than listen to him. I'm bored to tears with "good chorale" singing I hear so frequently, but I don't like the dying cat aesthetic either. My Grandma screwed up her face and said "at least he's trying." Later, she complained about him to a nurse.
We cleaned her up, because the nurses never take as good of care of her as they should. Her skin is really dry now and peeling off. I'm wondering if we should get some scrub that they sell at Bath and Body Works.
While I was waiting, I read a science book and texted Paul. My Grandma has a roommate at rehab, and she had on the Tigers game and then a reality show on remodeling on, both really loudly. My Grandma showed me her rosary and told me that my Grandfather gave it to her. She's seems to have forgotten that he died almost seven years ago.
The worst part was saying goodbye. She started crying and asked why she couldn't come home with us. I tried to explain that she had to be there to get better, but logical answers don't really work well with her.
She moves back to her place on Wednesday. In the meantime, I'm going to be going to see her everyday. Then on Wednesday, I'll be helping move her back to her apartment. I might be staying with her Friday since my Mom has to work. So, basically, expect a lot of updates about her over the next few days and in general. When I'm back at home, my family spends a lot of time taking care of her.