Nervous

     I will tell you I was not entirely thrilled with her being back in that place.  In fact if it wasn't for her friends and her socialization, I would have insisted on a change.  There was one other place, a fair distance away that had a gym and could handle bariatric patients

     The food had gotten progressively worse.  In fact I do believe something they called a stuffed pepper, by 'something' I mean their version, got some of them sick.  Food poisoning?  Probably.

     The first time both places were evenly matched.  Oh I checked up on each one when it was brought up.  I remember when she had her surgery and the first time they tried to get her into a rehab.  The web site started off by saying it had a strong police presence.

     This one and the other ranked 2 out of 5 stars.  She liked the idea of being so close to home.  And the first time was such a good experience.  At the time of her going back it was 1.5 out of 5.  Currently it is at 1.

     So there were little things.  I wasn't terribly pleased with the cleanliness.  But as with most things it does depend on the patient.  She had the where with all to let them know if she wasn't feeling well.  This was important.  Of course getting to see the Dr. could be a feat unto itself.

     I'm trying to set the scene best I can.  This was not an ideal place that did get worse.  But did the positives out weigh the bad?  My feeling was yes.  As long as she was somewhat happy, had friends, and could account for herself.

     I just did a complete re-edit.  I'm sorry I cannot put down the tale of horror.  Deal with it.

   

September

     By September things were in a settled rut at the rehab.  In fact she'd stopped really even going to the sad little events they put on.  Like karaoke night.  

     There were a few minor sickness scares.  Food or bug, never knew which.  She was herself in a lot of regard.  The 6:30 smoking group.  It was actually 6:40 but you had to arrive 5 min early so the door keeper could arrive 5 min late.

     There was Mickey.  Large guy.  He'd been in some sort of accident and couldn't walk.  He was hoping to recover.  In fact he had a vision.  He'd met Jesus who said he could go back but he would have to learn to walk again.  So he chose to come back.  Me?  I would've clocked out right then and there.  

"Are you saying I got IN!!!!"  

     I wouldn't take the chance of blowing it by coming back.  But the world isn't me huh?

     A new one was a kid named Joe, he'd been in a motorcycle accident.  High energy.  He was there because of the centers with gym's this was the one that allowed smoking.  This apparently is a huge draw.  

     He and my sister got along quite well.  Their rooms were not far.  It was nice to see her make friends.  In fact she had called me at work one day.  She was outside with him, he'd gotten one of those radio controlled cars.  They were having a blast.

     Astro.  Here was someone on oxygen.  Yes part of the smoking group.  Looked to be late 50's or early 60's.  Mumbled at times.  But also a nice person.  I wouldn't find out why he was there for quite some time.

     Ellen came that month I think.  She and my sister would become very close.  In fact I stay in touch with her.  We'll get to tales there later.  Eventually she would not be allowed to smoke anymore. She's only one lung.  And she passed out from smoking in the area.

     I mean there were other side characters.  But this was the core group really. Hopefully I'll remember the names I've given them.

Other than that....

     Sorry it's late again.  I'll try to keep up.

     All said and done it was my life.  All encompassing once again.  Hobbling around on my knee.  Visiting my sister, cooking a few nights a week.  Dealing with my work situation.

     August was sad also.  Several departments had their last days at the job.  My haven was once again very depressing.  Who doesn't dislike saying good bye to people you've known for better than a decade.  Not wanting to see the tears in their eyes or  let them see the ones in your own.  It was rough.

     And still the visits to my sister.  Small talk.  Did you fill out the paper work for social security yet or disability.  Yeah you say tomorrow every day.

     I had one more appointment with the knee Dr.  The cellulitis or however you spell it was gone.  The knee had not damage.  Exercise was okay, just nothing crazy.

     And the knee injury.  UGH!  It was also what stopped me for looking for a job.  I just couldn't imagine limping into an interview and being given a fair chance.

     I still tended to baby it and walk carefully.  It didn't hurt anymore.  But I didn't know what to do.  The other person that kept going to the gym, she is a friend, recommended just walking normally.

     I was still walking on the ball of my foot.  Even though I had full strength and flexibility.  But like I said I was babying it.  She said it may seem strange, just be careful.  And you know what.  She was right.  I was back to my somewhat normal self within a week.

Anger and Sadness

     There is a last actual post from her on her facebook page in August.  After that it was only silly stuff that people put up.  You know repostings, pictures of animals and crap like that.

"It's 10 P.M. and I'm crying myself to sleep.  I hate being away from home."

     Heart tugging and laughable at the same time.  I don't need to explain the heart tugging.  The laughable part is how true it was that she hated to be away from home.  I honestly think she wanted to die at home.  But enough of that.

     Money of course was tight.  B.I.L and I had a go around about getting money from his trust fund.  My explaining that it wasn't coming from him or his dearly hallowed F-ING WHORES OF HIS TRUSTEES BRUDDA AND SISTA POO.  

     To make it worse I couldn't go full out on the arguement because he was a child.  And it was close to when my sister would be calling to say good night.  She'd hear the tension in his voice and then she would get upset.  I tried my best.

     But the fact of the matter was that I'd shot my load.  I was in August bankrupt.  

-sorry it's late.

Life routines.

     So the routine was set up once again.  She was doing very well in the beginning.  Staying positive.

     In the last post I touched on the 3 weeks she was home. I checked, so unlike me.  It was in the 12-3 post.  What I was going for was a no regrets thing.  And I know the B.I.L regrets not spending more time with her during those 3 weeks.

     Had my first visit with the knee Dr.  Took xrays and such.  Was an easy and fun ride.  Of course smoking my cigar all the way home.  In fact as I recall I saw a Nathans.  I made a note to check it out next time.

     There was no damage.  But apparently some cellulitis on the leg itself.  Easily taken care of by a Penniclian derivative.

     And that really was it.  Other than trying to desperatley get her to fill out paperwork for her disability, for her social security.  I mean I had even met with a lawyer.  Every day she promised she'd have the paperwork done the next day.

     As I mentioned about institutionalization, you fall into ruts and routines which break up, not make up, your day.

     Breakfast, gym, smoke, lunch, gym, smoke, dinner, visit, smoke.  Occasionally after the last there might be some sort of activity.

     I sat through a couple of karoke sessions just to make her happy to have someone with her there.  B.I.L. never really did.  And I shouldn't say out of malevolence because it wasn't.  Just wasn't his thing.

     Visit, run home, eat, drink, bed.  That was his thing.  And unfortunately some fighting.  I had to hear about that often.  never said a word and such. 

     Maybe it was late July early August, she got sick.  These places breed these illness type things like rabbits.  I still think it was related to food poisoning.  But it was over after a week.

Surely I'm snowbound when I release this. But will I have electric?

     The new routine was generally focused around her smoke.  There was a schedule.  You could only go at that selected time.  She got there herself usually in the daytime.  Unless she wasn't feeling well enough.

     It's just occurred to me that I don't know if I set up the return properly.  Or her last 3 weeks at home.  Maybe I did.  Not really in the mood to go back and search.  I may though, there are a few salient points and a good life lesson in those 3 weeks.

     Not snowbound.

     B.I.L. would usually go straight there from work.  True to both of their natures.  When they both worked their whole goals were to go home and stay.  

     I on the other hand, if on regular hours, would go to the house first.  Sometimes I'd wait and get the newspapers from him.  I'd take care of the dog.  Then I'd call and let her know I was home and ask what I could bring.  Usually some stella d'oro breakfast treats; soda; papers if B.I.L. came home before I left; and something sweet like a package of snowballs.  That was the routine I ran.

     Usually got there in time to see how dinner looked.  The food had gone downhill dramatically since her last time here.  So bad in fact that she'd often just get a sandwich alternative they'd offer.  And of course there were vending machines to supplement themselves on.

     Oh and the greed of the place.  They owned and stocked the machines themselves.  Yup.  But let's not go there at all okay.

     The one thing I always say when visiting people.  Hospital or rehab.  Just talk about the small things.  When you are stuck in these places time pretty much stops.  You know the big things and such that are on the news.  It's the minutiae you miss.  You tell time there often by activities and which meal it is.  Days blend into one another.

     So I'd talk about work, people and such.  Usually if she was in a good way she'd talk back.  About 6 or 6:15 we'd get started.  Depending on whether or not she wanted to see the other vending machines.  And I understood that.  Sometimes just a change of scenery.  Something the B.I.L. often just couldn't grasp.

Location near her area.

      Getting a large snowstorm here.  Putting this entry in the vault.  But will try to keep it coherent.  Writing before I'm at the clock at work.  My old department director just did a walk through with the mover.  Oh we've tales to tell.  But I wish to finish this chapter.

     Not every unit near my sister was a single.  In fact she was lucky to have a bathroom with a shower.  Meaning she didn't have to use the public ones which I'm told were grotesque.

     To her left was the nurses station, not to far away.  Straight until you did a proper U and it came back was another part of this ward.  Down there lie another ice machine and the laundry machines the patients could use.

     But at the nurses station, there was a left.  It was where we entered.  In fact upon exiting I could always wave and say good bye to her from the window of her room.  But past that was another common room.

     I thought it to be the nicest.  There is a large chandler type thing.  Just have to not mind the peeling paint.  The room is round and is surrounded by windows.  The view is of the parking lot, but it did get lots of light in daytime.  Many ate their meals here.  They also had events.

     During one of her stays, I think it was the 2nd.  She got involved in a few.  Karaoke, family feud stuff.  It was good for her. I'd often stay for awhile.  So she'd have family to enjoy it with.  That crappy sentence actually brought a tear to my eye.  Damnations.

     And that is the scene.  Let it be set and we can begin the last act.  I'll weave a little life in here and there.  And then what?  I don't know.