Donna Woods Has My Number. Let the Games Begin.

I showed up at the skilled nursing facility around 3 p.m., bringing Mom the lunch from Somerby.

I hadn’t eaten all day. Mom and I had food to try, and I was ready to sit down and share it with her.

But first, someone had one final piece of business before leaving.

The Donna Woods.

She wanted my phone number or Mom’s phone number. If you read my previous post, you know I had been gently campaigning for Mom’s.

Negotiations had apparently reopened.

Donna initially wanted me to follow her to her room so she could get her phone.

I decided: I was staying with Mom and the food. I was hungry, and sharing that meal with her was more important to me than making a trip down the hall.

So I asked Donna for her number instead.

She gave it to me, and I called her.

And just like that, my carefully considered plan to avoid giving Donna my number was defeated.

By me.

Then I asked, “Donna Woods! Do you do the text?”

She said yes.

So I sent her a text, too.

Apparently, I wasn’t satisfied with opening one line of communication. I needed to confirm that the entire system was operational.

Calls? Connected.

Texts? Delivered.

Boundaries? Undergoing a brief internal review.

This is the same Donna Woods who can cover Pensacola, bacon, pets, prosthetics, and hot tea before I’ve finished forming a follow-up question. The woman who gathers people for Coffee Chats, greets the nurses, and somehow found time to approve my light blue Hokas with pink laces.

She now has a direct line.

I can already imagine looking at my phone, seeing “Donna Woods,” and wondering whether I have enough battery for the full update.

But I’m also glad we exchanged numbers.

She made a point of stopping before she left. She wanted to stay connected with people she had met, and Mom and I were among them.

I’ve spent these visits writing about making time for people. Donna has been doing her part to make sure we have the opportunity.

I could stay with Mom, share lunch, and still help Donna leave with a way to reach us. It turned out to be a pretty simple solution, despite my earlier attempts to protect myself from unlimited conversational access.

Now the question is: what’s the over/under on calls and texts for the rest of the week?

And does one story sent across seventeen separate texts count as one message or seventeen?

I need the rules established before the first update from Pensacola.