Easter Monday

I am sitting in my little red and white checked arm chair that we bought about twenty years ago and that has traveled with us from New York to California to Memphis and back. It is tattered and frayed and wobbly and I am always planning to reupholster it, but never find the time.

I remember pouncing it upon it in the store because it reminded  me of the gorgeous red and white checked chairs that Kitty Bartholomew had in her California cottage.

When Mystery Man came home for Easter, he moved it for me from his bedroom to ours. Our master bedroom, small on any day, is now cluttered with a walker, arm chair, ottoman, desk chair serving as side table, extra throws, unpacked hospital bags, a large bag containing journal supplies, yesterday's paper, and the air conditioner that never made it to the attic.

From where I am sitting, however, I have a view of the beautiful yellow tulip plants that Mr. Pom brought me for Easter, a stack of novels waiting to be read, and the TV which is plaing West Side Story.

Micalangela stayed at school as she had no days off for the holiday and only two weeks left before the semester ends (!) I didn't go to my sister's for brunch because my leg hurts, I haven't had a shower, and couldn't get up the energy to take a shower and go out.

This morning, Mr. Pom packed me a breakfast and a lunch, several ice packs, and even went down to the corner to get me a coffee (he doesn't know how to work The Princess's coffee machine). He was so sweet and delivered it all in an insulated bag I have dubbed the "rehab bag".  He will come back in time to bring me to my first outpatient physical therapy session. Here's hoping it is 1) more spacious; 2) has more equipment; and 3) is cleaner than the "exclusive rehab" center I was in last week.

Which brings me to my new career: developing and marketing rehab centers for Baby Boomers. Let's face it: we're all getting older and needing joint replacements and someone should be creating rehab centers just for Boomers. The needs of the elderly are quite different and there are no centers in the metropolitan area for skilled nursing care that are not 99% elderly facilities.

When I check into a rehab center, I do not want the following:

 

• to be weighed on a swinging portable chair within minutes of checking in
• to be checking in and have the LPN in charge not smile and say hello and have the transport driver more concerned with where my room was and if I was comfortable than the admission folks.
• to have powdered scrambled eggs and/or a "hash" or potatoes and refried beans constitute breakfast.
• a menu laden with fried food and creamed vegetables at every meal.
•  dinner choices of (1)hot dog with sauerkraut "side dish" or, 2)lamb stew. (I don't ever want to see those as my dinner choices.)
• no fresh fruit or salad EVER ( I didn't find out until the last day that I could ask for plain chicken or a salad - though depending on the cafeteria, I may not get it.)
•  an environment where every lounge has a flat screen TV blaring and there is absolutely no quiet place to be.
•  to be asked if for my "activity interests", I like to be "around animals", i.e. two birds in a cage. (Dude, if I wanted to be around animals, I could be at home with 2 large ones).
• showers offered only on Monday and Thursday (tough luck for me for checking in on Tuesday, despite the iodine all over my right side, the sticky tape residue, and the hair, oh, the hair!)
• visiting hours over at 8:00 (have you met my husband, the CPA? Have you ever tried to get a CPA to break a rule??)
• LPNs who are allowed to wear excessive after shave, causing the Percoset handed to you at 2:00 a.m. to taste of said after shave
• to see my elderly roommate fall out of her wheelchair when she tried to get back into bed because she saw me get from the wheelchair and back into bed (cause if it happens again, I'll be there long term for the stroke I almost had as I struggled to run out of the room with a walker to find a nurse)

And please, can you at least try to match roommates that has some semblance of age connection? The little lady I shared my room with was over 85 and used a bedpan. In the middle of the night. For everything.

I knew I was in trouble when there was only one other person under 70 there beside myself and that poor guy had fallen and severely broken his leg far from home. He ended up where I was by picking a name at random off the list. We bonded immediately and had clandestine meetings under the din of the TV where we would compare notes about the cleanliness of the rehab room, the knowledge of the physical therapists, and the food.I saw nurses coming by and muttering about us and I think I got out just in time before they transferred one of us to the gulag known as "the other side of the hall".

I really really knew I was in trouble when my questions about how long my rehab would take and other specific questions about knee replacements were met with vague answers. My physical therapist was a lovely young woman, but I sensed her frustration at the crowded conditions and lack of equipment. She admitted later on that they only had a few knee replacments and were mainly all hip and stroke patients.  The rehab room was often a Monty Python or SNL skit come alive, with patients asleep in their wheelchairs, patients who were deaf, and a lot of cantakerous old folk who just wanted to be left alone and especially did not want to march in place behind their walkers.

Now, do not take my issues as a criticism of the motivation, compassion, or intent of those that work there. This facility  encompasses a  a nursing home, assisted living, etc. It is considered the creme de la creme of nursing facilities in our area and I was told repeatedly in the hospital that it was very hard to get into and I needed several back up choices. The problem is that it was for the elderly, period. I never saw any cruelty, mistreatment, or lack of concern on the part of the staff toward their patients. The therapists did the best they could with what they had. I was very touched to see the excitement it caused whenever a patient took their first steps on their own and how hard the therapists worked, with  one hand on the walker, one hand on the waistband of the patients, and another hand (?) on the wheelchair they trail right behind. I really don't know how they managed it!

The only facility around here that I wanted to go to was for "sub-acute and acute" nursing care and the insurance companies won't pay for a unilateral knee replacment to go to a facility above "skilled nursing care".  The occupational therapist told me that the trend now is for Boomers to go home after joint replacement and have therapy at home until they are able to go as outpatient. I honestly could not see myself doing that as I was still pretty weak and feeling sickly until Thursday and it would have meant someone staying home from work to take care of me.

In summary, stay healthy. Seriously. I saw what waits. We can't control all disease or illness, but we can make a really good stab at eating right, exercising, and taking the vitamins and meds that we are told to.

So just do it!