Mum wouldn't cooperate all day yesterday, wouldn't eat, behaved manically, grabbing anybody in her way to warn them of the danger they all faced here, and I get the feeling the staff here are tired of her, and they (well, not all of course) start to be indifferent to the situation. In Israel you can't admit a person to hospital forcibly, unless a strict legal/medical procedure is followed. The person qualified to order this is a District Psychiatrist, and they could not get hold of one yesterday. Mum tricked her way to the support clinic (it was bound to happen), and hasn't left since. She stayed in dad's room all night, and I hear from the staff, confirmed by dad that she kept ranting for the better part of the night. As I write this the internal phone rings. Now it's dad: "I don't know what to do, mum is following me to the dining room and won't shut up. I have gone back to my room". Now Duty Nurse on the phone - she has been volunteered to keep an eye on mum, who has not eaten or rested for 24 hours (well, she may have nodded off in the chair, but she wouldn't lie in the second bed in dad's room). She now believes Lea is dead. Lea can't come to show her wrong till 11:00, the psychiatrist can't come before 12:30pm, we are all on edge, nervously wondering what else can go wrong.
Meanwhile, dad, whom I thought I travelled to Israel to be with on his last moments is getting better, and although his heart will never "fire on all cylinders", is now capable of walking unaided, but for a cane (which the physio says he doesn't need!). His spirits are broken though, witnessing the woman he loves, still as warmly as ever before, despite years of having to cope with her "eccentricity", coming apart before his eyes.

A few days ago (before mum's condition took a tumble) I got a belated email from a friend in reply to an old message I sent to him. He writes: "I see you're in Israel. I took a peek at your blog. Looks like you're having a great time."