My 87-year-old mother, Milli, had a serious stroke a few weeks ago that put her in a wheelchair, and now I am shopping for her nursing home wardrobe.

The nursing home has given me a list, suggesting clothing that is “comfortable, casual and easily laundered.” Name tags will be added there. I guess it is sort of like sending a kid to camp, except that the helpful hints include things like, “For residents with hip precautions, shoes with Velcro are preferred,” and “for stroke patients, pants with elastic waists and bras with front closures.”

I am entering new territory, so I search for “nursing home patient clothing” on Google. I get over a million hits. There are many practical clothing solutions I see before falling into a depression I anticipate emerging from in the spring of 2016. Like the jumpsuit guaranteed to “provide the solution to unwanted undressing,” a horror that never occurred to me. I was also discouraged by the selection of bibs.

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