So here I am in Florida... Thanks for your good thoughts, Stenns, Betster and Joe and Brett - I'm not sure I know what the hell you are talking about, but thanks for the comment all the same.

Things aren't as immediately grim as I thought they would be on Wednesday, but they ain't pretty either. Still, there isn't a whole lot I can do, staying down here for the long term, and I'll be headed home Monday (tomorrow) night, back to work on Tuesday.

The care facility my grandmother in is pretty nice - on the outside it is yellow and cheery and looks like a large house. The inside is clean and homey. That Nursing Home Smell is also pleasantly absent from this place as well.

The staff is mostly Hatian, which makes for some interesting conversational/cultural bariers. They are all pretty relaxed, and well, I'm not. So when my grandmother is supposed to get a breathing treatment at 6 and at 6.30 it isn't there, I start to panic - after all, she can't really breathe very well without the treatments, and you know, breathing is pretty central to basic comfort. So I ring the nurses' station, I press the panic button, and someone always comes in - 4-5 minutes after ringing, and when I spit out my frantic request, they just smile at me, sometimes rubbing me on the head if they can reach it, and say, "yes love, the treatment is coming. All in due time." Nothing, absolutely NOTHING rattles this staff or gets them to respect the simple American urgency that controls everything in life. Right now is a phrase that doesn't mean much.

Yesterday I brought the staff some donuts, and like a bolt of lightening, things started to go more smoothly. Tea was brought when asked for - even if the kitchen was closed. Medicine was administered as directed and on time, assistance to the bathroom was diligent, and dinner was brought while it was still hot. Was it really the donuts that made the difference? Did these little fried bits of dough act like the viscous oil of a bribe, or did it just make the staff feel more appreciated and all warm n' fuzzy-like? Or was it the overdose of sugar that got their kindly but slow beating hearts to beat at my nervous pace?

I am going to try this little tactic again today, this time bringing in a treat like say, apples. We'll see if the apples have the same effect.