A whispering in the night, somewhat disturbed. I lean over and stroke his cheek and say “It is all right” and he subsides.
A hand holds mine and he whispers “love you.”
Later whispering passionately, “I don’t want to leave you.”
I roll to him and say quite emphatically, it being 4 in the mornng, “So Don’t!”
“Oh!” he says, relieved. And we fall asleep holding hands.
All that sweet and true psychic state is one level of existence, but life works on many levels, and so does truth as we humans experience it.
I had spent the two days before he returned from the Lodge – where as before he fit in, made friends, did the activities, was his sweet self with the other patients – I had spent those days in fear and tears, dreading his return.
Having survived that inevitable doom, I spent the next week digging into the placement system to see how bad my fate was. I was pretty serious about a drop off at emergency and a quick flight out to wherever , if my sentence looked to be more than a couple of months. That was the optimist in me trying to imagine a better future.
Anyway, tonight it seems I am making some progress on deciphering the care system. It is going to take more research to sort it out and I will post when I actually have some information.
Quote of the week:
Me – to the “more information” person about residential care – “I just am trying to figure out how many people are on the list for placement.”
She: “There’s no list….”
I will spare you the ensueing round and round the mulberry bush, but it ended with me saying …Oh you are telling me there is no bed shortage and all those folks on the Second Floor (St Joseph’s Transition ward), there are beds for all those folks right now?
She hung up on me, but what could she do — we had just boldly ventured beyond her talking points.
Duh!!!! Of course there’s no list. If there was a list we the public would be able to see how bad this health care crisis is.