11-25-07: Journeys, challenges, respect and Joe...

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I spent 6 1/2 weeks there and looked forward to the day when I would get to go home. But it's like the sign says next to the entry way, "Your Journey Home Starts Here." Now, mind you, life has not necessarily gotten any easier since coming home from the "resort." Certain new tasks that would be no big deal under 'normal' circumstances are now formidable tasks... showering, making coffee, getting from point A to point B using a wheelchair and crutches, sharing a bed with someone who must contend with me wrestling with a damn leg brace that likes to tangle with the covers... Peggy's amazing, though. She has moved furniture, plants, and other items around to accommodate my ponderous movements about the house, folding and unfolding my wheelchair and lifting it in and out of the car when we go somewhere, keeping me well-fed with her usual style and presentation... and just selflessly doing whatever needs to be done to insure that I get back as close to normal as possible. I know I've said it before, but it just can't be emphasized enough... I am fortunate indeed.

Last word on the "resort."

And it's not a negative one. I heard it said many times by those in temporary residence: "I just want to go home." But everyone was also quick to point out that although they would not miss the place, they would miss the people who worked there to make their lives as comfortable and productive as possible. I and those like me can be quite cranky during the rehabilitation process, while contending with and trying to come back from maladies ranging from injury to old age. Never once did I ever hear or see an RN, LVN, CNA or any of the therapists respond negatively to said crankiness. I commend you people with my highest regard and deepest respect.

But enough about me.

Never did find out much about Joe, one door up from me, but I shall never forget him. Wheelchair bound, Joe would lower his head and roll down the hallways at .001 mph, stopping frequently to look up to make sure he was going in the right direction... and comment to anyone and everyone about whatever.

"Hey, how ya doin'? Everything okay? Alright, glad to hear it., etc." Always positive. But to converse with him face to face, one has to get used to seeing a loose bridge of false teeth move about freely in his mouth as he talked... unless he had misplaced them, at which time he would inch along the hallways inquiring as to who might have seen his false teeth. Regardless, Joe could be quite witty and ready to catch you off guard with the unexpected quip or response...

• After my doctor said that I could start using my right leg casually without the brace, I still had to use it for a time when in therapy. So I would put the brace on my lap and wheel down the hallway to the therapy room. After one such session, I was on my way back to my room and encountered Joe. "Hey Joe, check out my leg," I said holding out the brace... to which he responded after first looking at the brace and then me in the eye, "One down and one to go." He then lowered his head and continued his slow progress to wherever. I watched him for a bit and contemplated the simple import of his response.

• It was Halloween and some of the workers had dressed up Joe's head and face to look like a pirate, complete with a pulled-back, tied bandana on top, a black patch over one eye, and a stick-on scar on one cheek. "Aye, matie," Joe would say to people as he tooled by. I did not dress up in costume myself (though it was offered to me), but I did have company in my room. Now Joe had gone to his room, which shared a bathroom with mine. I'm having a conversation with my friend when, unbeknownst to us, Joe, who had entered the bathroom from his side, opened the bathroom door to my room and wheeled in slowly, stopped, looked at my friend with his unpatched eye and asked without the slightest bit of embarrassment, "Can you help me take a crap?" My friend and I were caught quite speechless. "I really gotta take a crap," Joe insisted. My friend could only continue his incredulous look as I wheeled out to the hallway to get the nearest CNA or whomever to come help Joe take care of his needs.

• One might say that Joe was probably quite the lady's man in his day. Still is... saw it first hand. One particular older woman had been "enrolled" at the resort against her wishes, for she spent her time roaming the hallways in her wheelchair telling and asking anyone who would listen that she wanted to go home and why didn't they let her go. "I didn't do anything wrong," she would reason. "I've never done nothin' wrong in my life." In the beginning she was also refusing food. "I can't pay for the food," she would say.

Within a couple of days of her arrival, she met Joe. "Why won't they let me leave?" she asked him, gesturing to some glass doors that had a security alarm attached that would sound if anyone tried to open them. Of course, the woman knew this from previous experience. "Because this is where you live," Joe responded matter-of-factly. And to the food problem, Joe would simply say, "You gotta eat if you wanna live." Well, as time passed, it would be safe to say that, with Joe's help, the woman did eat... although she continued to question her residence up until the day I left... when I witnessed something that continues to make me smile when I think about it...

I was packing up my stuff accumulated during my stay when Joe ambled by and encountered the woman. "Hey, good-looking, what's cookin'?" he said. Well, the woman was caught quite off-guard as she put her hand to her chest and, with the flushed look of a young non-suspecting girl in a high school hallway between classes, could only smile and say haltingly, "Uh, not much." Without missing a beat, Joe said, "Glad to hear it." and continued his slow but methodical progress towards his next unsuspecting rendezvous.

There were others in residence whom I met and commiserated with. Some got to go home before me and others I hope got to go home not long after. And although I am not writing about our encounters now, I'm sure that sometime during the rest of my life, I will think of each of you from time to time and cherish the memories...

Sights from the resort: view from my room window | bell | down the hall | pills | pill givers | Joe