The other week, the one resthome resident who wants to die ordered dinner in her room just like she has a lot of times before, only this time she ate the most I've ever seen her, all the soup and all the salad and all the entree and all the dessert.
"Wow, you ate a ton," I was like, when I went to go help her clean up.
"Yeah," she was like, "I'll be a well-fed body."
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