My 88 year old healthy mother LOVES her Medicare. Being a hyphocondriac, she shows up at the ER every month to be cosseted by some kindly nurse (where she finds them, I don’t know!) and some handsome young intern. She then complains when the bill comes in: $80.
Last time, though, they seemed to be doubtful as to her symptoms. Unfortunately, they were nice to her and GLARED at me.
That’s the way some sad people get the only comfort they know.
She needs to learn more about the direct love of God.
Hey—your Mom has it all happening! A girl after my own heart!