June 7th 2020

It takes a long time to get things done around here.

For rexample two nights ago I was trying to sleep when I hear the sound of a little girl wailing in the hallway. On top of that my left leg (stroke 1) was throbbing because it has a tendency to swell up unless it’s raised.

So the girl’s bawling stopped (turned out a few days later it was a “resident” who was 89 yo.

But the pain was keeping me up, and I finally rang for an aide to put an ice-pack on.

She wanted to know where and I told her to look at it and see which parts were swollen. She did, and then twisted my ankle to put the ice pack on causing me to yell!

-Easy. Gentle, I said.

English is rarely the first language of aides. At any rate you have to be lucky to find onewho has the makings of a nurse.

But that night the icepack, which she wrapped in a red rag, and than tied with a plastic stretchy piece of rubber, worked well. Until it didn’t.

So the next morning as soon as the aide came in (always around 6 a.m.) I explained to her about my left ankle being swollen and very painful, and asked he to remove the ice pack. Which she did, sending me into more pain as she complained about how hard it was to get the red rubber stretchy tie thing off as my life flashed before me.

That day, after I was twirled into the chair, I decided that sleeping in the chair might work because my ankle felt good, raised and well supported in the chair.

Of course, breaking a routine can cause grief as well.

That night of the ice-pack I had been put into be at 7 a.m. and not helped out until 15 hours later.

So at least in the chair, I wouldn’t have to be perpetually waiting. And the women who usually put me in bed had to be told 3 times not to.

That I would go on the next shift which began at 8 pm. Maye I’d go at 9 pm.

Had I said I really was planningto sleep in the chair, it would of escalated.

My plan was not tell anyone about the chair bed.

And so, I was told someone would be here at 9 pm to get me into bed.If things work the way they usually in terms of timing, nobody would say anything to anybody and I’d have a quiet night.

I forgot about the two night shifters. Someone comes in (JoJo) around 11 a.m. and turns every light on. Just to make sure she’s waking you, she makes a lot of noise changing the garbage bag.

This time she finds me fast asleep, with the chair in a flat position, with my arms hanging down, and gasps out loud like a deflating tire. (Bad simile) like something being punctured. Then laughs.

She speaks English but reacts in French. Morrocan. I say that I’m sleeping in the chair ces soir. She just shakes her head. This fou, toujour something.

And I wake to a beautiful painfree day, and tonight will do the same.

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This week, 2x the Prednisone IV, and the IG infusion.

At the very least I should be stronger that week -end and the following week.