Room 7 Blossom

She was aimlessly wondering around her bedroom. Not looking for anything, just moving around. The caregiver opening the bedroom door, made eye contact with her and smiling, said 'hello'.

'Oh, hello,' Blossom said. 'I thought I was alone. Is there anyone else here. I mean, here, anywhere?'

'Why, yes, everyone is listening to music. Would you like to listen to some music? Everyone is in the main hall. Would you like to be with them?'

'Why yes I would,' Blossom said. There were tears in her eyes and she looked frightened. 'I thought that I might be the only one....here.'

'Lets go to the bathroom,' the caregiver took Blossom to the bathroom, slipped her depends and polyester slacks down, Blossom sat down on the toilet. She was 'dirty' and her blouse was wet and needed changing. The kind person that cared for her changed these wet and dirty clothes and put her in a warm clean outfit. When she was ready to go, they walked, arm in arm down several halls to the place where most of the other residences were congregated. The feeling of aloneness was gone and being with others gave a sense of humanity.

'Would you like to sit here Blossom?' 'Would you like punch and a cookie?'

©2009 Wendy Martin

Room 6 Willow

Willow sat in the chair that was next to the T.V.
He was emaciated. He looked like an old balloon that had been blown up and after a time had deflated. He just sat there quietly. 'I don't know where I am,' he said.

He said this to a caregiver as she walked into the room.

I know where you are, she said matter of factly. I know who you are and where you are. You are safe. I am taking care of you. And I love you.

He looked tired, defeated and resigned.

'I don't know where I am.'

©2009 Wendy Martin

Room 5 Spruce

Spruce lay on the bed in his cotton briefs, wrapped up in the top sheet. Listening to the radio. Listening to a talk show on the radio.

It was evening, the sun had set. It was a balmy September night and the window was half opened. He was trying to watch for changes in himself. The Dr. said that there would be changes in his condition.

These people here were very far gone. Very sick. He didn't see that he was like any one of them. At the dinner table there really wasn't anyone he could carry on a conversation with. He was polite. Some evenings he just couldn't go to dinner. He just couldn't. He would stay in his room and have dinner brought to him. Some nights he would refuse his medicine.

He woke up. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was hot. He was laying in the parking lot of the facility, naked. Several people were standing over him, one was slipping his cotton briefs over his feet and ankles and then cotton slacks. 'Come on, Spruce, you are going to be fine, let me help you up.'

©2009 Wendy Martin

Room 4 Lily

Lily lay on her bed.

88 years old and doing well on her Aricept. She'd been out with her family to a meal the day before and was enjoying the memory.

Her day was routine. She would wake about 6a and wait for a caregiver to help her sit up, then stand up to her walker. She could walk to the toilet with the help of the walker but needed help sitting and changing her depends, which she wore as a precaution. She was continent. She had to be dressed. Dressed in the same colour pants and top. The same colour and design. The same type sweater, never a different one. She would instruct her caregiver to put her bedsocks back into the drawer 'because they get lost in the wash.' 'Also put my nighty back too.'

Then it was time to go to the diner and as soon as she pushed her walker out into the hall she knew her way and said good-bye to her caregiver. She would move like a little box turtle to her place at breakfast. She would find her place, need help sitting down and need help being pushed in at the table. All this would exhaust her and she would rest til lunch in which the same routine would tax her. some afternoons she would attend the entertanment in the main hall but more times than not she would rest in her room and have thooughts that the Aricept no doubt made possible. Every object must be exactly placed for Lily to be comfortable. Her pillows must be placed just so-her sheet pulled up to her chin, just so far and the blanket with the sfghan next-just so. Arranged, just so or she could'nt rest. 'No, thats not right,' she would say-'there, there, I think that is right, there-'

She had a dream one night that she and her husband were curled up in each other's arms. She felt wonderful, remembering.

©2009 Wendy Martin

Room 3 Madrone

Madrone didn't know where he was. He was praying.

He was a small man who was neatly dressed and clean. He wore a cap with 'U.S. Navy' embroidered across the bill.

He wondered from room to room and down the hallways. He wasn't sure where his room was and when someone showed him, he wouldn't go in his room, except in the middle of the night. And then he would not sleep in his bed, he would sleep in his soft recliner and he would not remove his clothes but would sleep with his clothes on and his shoes. After several weeks he began to recognize his new friends and the caregivers that had been taking care of him. He started to crack jokes and smile and demand more milk-always more milk.

©2009 Wendy Martin

Room 2 Iris

Iris lay in her bed feeling ill. Her eyes had a glazed and strange look, as if she wasn't in the natural world. She couldn't focus, her head hurt. She couldn't stand up or speak but she knew or thought she knew that it was not her illness but the medication that her brother put on her. Medication that was in round patches that she found on her arms or on her back. She thought that her brother was trying to murder her. He is killing me, he is killing me, she thought to herself, then she lost consciousness.

She awoke in her bed. She couldn't remember how she got there. The sun was bright and it was a beautiful morning. Warm.

She got up, put on her clothes, went to use the bathroom and went down the hall to breakfast. She was too early, one of the first ones up. She went out to the garden and sat in a chair by a huge pink rose bush, to wait for the caregivers to bring out the other patients, of which she knew that she was one.

©2009 Wendy Martin

Room 1 Orchid

Orchid sat on the edge of the bed...staring. Her feet were resting on the side of her bed. She shared the room. Sometimes she shared the room with someone that she knew and other times with a stranger. This afternoon she knew the woman that lay asleep on the double bed across from hers.

Orchid was a small, size 8. She wore the same button up cotton blouses with a brown jacket to cover and polyester slacks. She stood 5'3" and was quick of movement, busy. A pleasant woman, well bred and polite with a kind smile and soft brown eyes that met a person but then drifted away.

She lowered her feet to the floor. She wore bare feet in her black leather slip on shoes. She lifted herself off the bed, onto the floor and walked across the bedroom floor, passed Viola's bed and went on into the bathroom. About two inches of water covered the bedroom floor and the same amount flooded the bathroom. She walked back to her bed, sat down again and lifted her feet up. She slipped off her shoes and set them on her dresser drawers. They were dry and her feet and ankles were dry as well as her pant legs. She lay down on her bed with her head on the pillow and covered up with a pretty knitted afghan and closed her eyes.

When Orchid received a phone call from a friend or relative, she was eager to talk. She would arise from seeming deep sleep and converse with avid attention and response.

During the days and evenings, Orchid was active with cleaning. She would go in the lunch room, in the area where the fridge, cupboards and sink were located. And the big 33 gal. plastic trash, full from the latest meal would be taken out and transported to her closet or someone elses-along with broom and dust pan. She would constantly be moving, moving. Until bed time. Then she would sleep. Ether in her bed or sitting up in the T.V. room with her eyes closed and arms folded across her chest.

©2009 Wendy Martin