Life in The Home

As I approach the end of week two in the TCU here at The Home, I have to admit that living in this island of time and space isn’t all bad.

The cast of caregivers remains compassionate and attentive. My compatriots are all somewhere on the spectrum of variously enabled and frequently amusing but always kind souls. And I’m learning which menu items are simply a bad idea when prepared in an institutional kitchen.

So for the upsides - I was told by one of the chatty aides that I’m among the most cognizant on the hall. Woohoo! Sure, that may be a low bar, but at least that’s one bar I can exceed here. 

My hopping skills are progressing. My left foot no longer feels like it’s glued to the floor as the useless right foot just dangles in its raised position, rather than dare to come anywhere near its rightful weight-bearing role. Side note? It’s really difficult to keep your brain informed that the role of the right leg has shifted from useful appendage for walking into a heavily casted somewhat useless object for the next five weeks.

I’ve tested out a knee scooter which seems like it could be promising, if I didn’t feel like I have T-Rex dinosaur arms based on the narrow width of the handlebars. Still seems like it could be kinda tippy for much use and tipping is one thing I’m working to avoid at this point. We shall see if this will be useful.

I met a lovely woman in the PT gym. It took me three tries to get her name right after she said it. “Is that Claudette?”, I asked. “No,” she said, repeating her name. “Ah, Claudine!” I said.  Again no. She finally carefully said, “Claudith - like Edith.” And then shared that she was the eighth of her mother’s children and her mother ran out of names she wanted. So she asked her cousin for a name for the baby….at which point, Claudith pauses…and he was a drunk, so that’s how I got my name. 

She’s in her late 80s and has repeated that story her whole life. Clearly a cautionary tale for taking care with the names we give our children!

And a note for all my friends. If you’re ever in The Home where restricted diets are the norm, be sure to ask for salt and pepper for your room. It’s truly the difference between edible and inedible when it comes to most foods.  

Ben was right - this place is a wellspring of content!