My Room! My Room!

After dealing with movers and SNF administrators, I drove Mom back to Ocean View and unceremoniously dumped her in the dining room with a bag of French fries and a strawberry milkshake.
I told the movers where to place furniture, signed a lot of papers, and paid them.
Then I realized I was late to a 2 pm doctor's appointment for myself. It was Christina, a caregiver on the pm shift, who pushed her in her wheelchair back to her room about 3 pm.
Her furniture had just arrived and was in place, but the walls and tabletops were bare.
Nevertheless, as Mom rounded the corner and saw her tree (a fake ficus), her door, and her room with its furniture, Christina reported that she began crying out, "My room! My room! My room!"
No doubt she was a bit confused and amazed.
She'd been sleeping in her recliner at the other place two hours earlier.
Now she was back at her long-term residence, and there was her recliner, her bed, her bureau, desk, doll cabinet and television.
It was a miracle.