Saturday, May 19, 2012
There is a degree of satisfaction I get in being able to prepare my own meals, make my own coffee, and decide what time of day I will shower. Living where I was living all of that was gone. It's a care home. As far as care homes go this one is actually pretty damn good. The house was always immaculately clean, and the meals were well-prepared. On those accounts I have no complaints.
Living the way I do, is easy to forget the problems I had when I moved into that house. Coming out of surgery on my spine, I was unable to effectively move out of my bed, or even lift my head off the pillow. I had a neurosurgeon that told me I had no symptoms that day that I didn't have the day before my surgery. On that account I would say the man was insane.
one piece of hardware I left behind at the house, a unit paid for by Medicare, is a specialized hydraulic lift my caregivers used to pull my body out of bed, into my chair, into my bath chair, and back to my bed again. With the strength and abilities that I've regained it is hard to remember that I was living so helplessly just a few months ago. Over the last two years I've dispensed with most of that stuff. It would be insane for me to think that I would need to live in that environment any longer.
So, when my friend e-mailed me from Indonesia to ask me how I am enjoying my newfound privacy and freedom, I feel a little bit overwhelmed. It is strange to know that after two years of having virtually no privacy, I now have all of that back. Having minimal control over my diet, I now have the ability to prepare all my own meals, and control my portions as I wish. Well I live in a complex surrounded by people immersed in all kinds of drama, I am still able to sit here in complete quiet, untouched by any of it unless I want to participate.
Thank you for reading.