Rest Haven

August 29, 2013

Should have withered away to nothing by now, downsized to size zero or something as chic but, no such luck. Sweating is contagious, I’m afraid, and the worker bees upstairs have caught it from me, or vice versa. They are gulping iced tea from weeping glasses by the hour and I cannot get past the next few steps on my project without stopping to pour another shot, like a German barmaid, sans a handful of coin for a tip. I sit in the blazing heat, glistening, while the ceiling fan mocks my progress, or lack thereof.  I am wearing as little clothing as I can get away with, aside from being arrested for indecent exposure while the two helpers have on jeans, clunky pleather boots, most likely sensible absorbent cotton socks with a few holes, and white undershirts beneath their button-down short sleeves!

The Nursing Home (usually they are named things like Rest Haven or something so far removed from the reality of the joint, it is crazy) is situated on acreage, seems more like a golf course or conference center than a nursing home/rehabilitation/assisted living spot. The halls are soothing and luxurious. I couldn’t even strain to view the residents saturated into their hospital beds, and believe me, I tried, as I sashayed down the corridor. Was in to visit with my new client and her son, discussing the ins and outs of her care, once she arrives home again. We calmly talked about meal options, my hours, swabbing the deck and other rooms in the apartment, the details of the laundry situated in the basement and finding things the senior lady wants to do in her spare time. She is a mere 88 and in a bad way, at the moment. Once she is shipped home, I will pitch in to take care of her. I draw the line at making and serving lime jello, however, so I insisted they put that in the contract.

I look forward to hearing about little Lacey, my good friend (who is now 52) and her shenanigans while staying at my client’s place when she was a child. All of those family memories that get rearranged in the mind, expanding and contracting with time. Something to look forward to. It comes with the aging territory, whether we like it or not.