Finally. Finally. Finally.

Thank god. My Alzheimer-riddled friend Ron is out of Bethesda Hospital. A place that’s supposed to specialize in physical rehabilitation. And behavior modification, especially for dementia patients. It’ll be three months. On Oct. 10. Since Ron broke his neck in a fall. And had the fracture fused together again.  In intricate surgery. Then Ron was sent to Bethesda. For so-called rehab. I say so-called. Because I have doubts that Ron received true blue physical rehabilitation. The only time he got up and walked around was when son-in-law Rick visited him. And worked him out. With assisted walks. Up and down the corridors. That should have happened virtually every day. But seems to me that Ron was lost in the shuffle. In the bureaucratic mish-mash. Typical in hospitals, including Bethesda. I was unimpressed. Ron spent far too much time in a wheelchair or in bed. He needs to walk daily. In order to keep his agility. Walking therapy would be nice. Daily. Alzheimer patients, especially, need special one-on-one mental and physical stimulation. Daily. Fresh air, too. And most of ‘em don’t get it. Because most nursing homes and hospitals are grossly understaffed.  For a variety of reasons. Not the least being out-of-whack national priorities. Apparently, it's more important to spend on national defense. On wars. And to hell with the Alzheimer epidemic. Anyway, Ron has escaped Bethesda. He’s in a five-bed nursing home. In a nice residential home. It’s very, very expensive. But looks to me like Ron is finally getting the care he needs. Including real and genuine rehabilitation. I’m keeping a close watch. More reports to come.  –Jim Broede