I parked my car in the handicapped spot at the nursing home, feeling relieved that there was a parking spot at all. I placed the yellow parking pass on the dashboard and hung the blue handicapped sign behind the rear view mirror. I must get that chair lift off my vehicle, I thought. Soon . . . after the George reunion.
After that, I exited my Acadia and headed to the doors of the nursing home. "Good morning," I chirped to a grey haired lady, the only resident basking in the sun. I've not seen her before and felt happy that she smiled at me with her pearly white teeth. I signed in on the yellow name badge, slapped it on my blouse and headed toward the elevator, praying for a nice visit with my husband.
On the second floor I entered the day-room because there were many residents sitting in there, sitting in their power chairs and wheel chairs. I wondered if I would see Truett dressed and staring at the elevator door or waiting for a familiar nurse who sticks her tongue out at him and he returns the gesture. Then they both laugh.
Truett was not in the day-room so I turned to leave. A tiny, shriveled elderly woman raised her bony finger up, flicked it toward her chest a couple of times, motioning for me to go to her. So I did. "Did you come to take me home?" she questioned. "No," I answered. "I'm here to visit my husband." The woman lowered her head to her chest and I felt sad for her. I've certainly heard her question to me many times.
Truett was laying flat on his bed. He was dressed; however, the slacks he had on were not his. I told him he was wearing someone else's pants and he told me they fit pretty good. Obviously, the slacks did not fit because there was a seven inch gap at the waist. Then I wondered who helped him get dressed.
A nurse walked in and told me they were going to get a crank bed for Truett because after he ate, he layed flat and then got sick. She was asking for my permission to get a crank bed. "This is not the first time," the nurse said. I told her to do what she thought best. I wouldn't want her job. But wait . . . I did have her job when Truett was home.
My visit with my husband was pretty good and I left. As I strolled to the Acadia I saw the lift attached to the back and thought, "Yes, after the George reunion."
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