Had ot or pt in two weeks.
Without normal people to talk to, it becomes depressing.
THE CNAS treat you like a slab of meat that needs to be washed.
Even the young CNAS HAVE A HARD SELFISH EDGE.
IF I DON’T HAVE THERAPY MY BEST FRIENDS ARE THE JANITORS.
They make me laugh. One is from Chile, one from PERU. THE ONE from Peru tells me to tell the guy from Chile that he bought three bottles of wine. Two from Chile. One from Peru.
He tells me to tell the Chilean janitor that he used the Chilean wine to wash his feet.
And the Peruvian wine to drink.
It had an hilarious effect on Ernie from Chile.
He got red from toe to forehead. Started cursing in English, German, and Spanish.
Lots of fun.
But they are the only friends I can b. S. With on this floor.
And I am asleep.
Sound asleep. I feel a heavy weight on my right thigh.
Mice are really getting heavy i think.
I open my eyes. The one legged blind demented roomie is on one leg. Leaning his palms on my legs
Al! What are you doing? You’re gonna fall!
Oh. And he’s hard of hearing as well.
You’re going to…
His leg collapses and he’s on the floor peeing through his hospital gown.
I press the call button to get an CNA.
Hey. It’s Carrol from my last hospital trip.
She looked at Al and was very cold. Not a blink
Instead she yelled at him for falling.
When in doubt. The typical CNA shouts.
Well after all a fall means paper work. Might be called as witnesses if bones or worse are broken.
Worst of all. A death!
You could lose hours with a death in a nursing home…
Sometimes the insanity of the institution is just too fuckin mu h.
They came to weigh me again. That makes three times in five days.
Every time they leave with my wires tangled. Or something where I can’t reach it.
Like the call Bell or the urinal. Or the remote for the ned position.
Oh i grumble. But rules are rules.