Wednesday, August 03, 2016

Life in a wheelchair

I don’t complain much about being housebound—it’s kept me out of the heat, and I have so many visitors I’m not lonely at all. Today was like Grand Central Station---the physical therapist and the LVN who bathes me both arrived at the same time. I expected sparks to fly because the LVN said, “He’s coming on my time.” They both agreed, however, that it was fortuitous. The therapist, Dan, showed me how I could get in the shower, now that I’m able to put a little weight on my right foot, but he cautioned I need to have someone help me. For a moment there, the therapist and I were in the shower together (I was still dressed)—we seemed to be doing a dance in a small space. But long story short, I got a full shower. Praise be! First time I’ve been in the shower in five weeks. The thing about Home Health Care through Medicare is that you don’t dare tell them it’s inconvenient for them to come or you’re busy—they’ll decide you don’t need them and take you off their list.

They left, and my dear friend Kathie arrived with lunch. Kathie is perhaps the most organized person I know, and when she brings lunch, she brings everything—paper plates, napkins, plastic flatware. And then the lunch-tuna salad, fruit salad, veggies to nibble on, two kinds of muffins (we had a half each—blueberry and goat cheese/berry). Couldn’t decide which was best.

After Kathie left, I busied myself making the filling for salmon pasties. Then Rosa, my hair stylist arrived. Rosa is such a good soul she volunteered to come to the house to cut my hair. I thoroughly enjoy her company—we talk about both kids and politics—and she said she needed to come talk to me with the current political situation.

With my new haircut I took a brief nap. Then up because a friend of Jordan’s came for a glass of wine. Then Betty arrived for supper, and together we put the pasties together and baked them. Not the best I’ve ever made but okay for my first foray back into cooking. A good visit.

I thought she was the last visitor, but Jordan and Christian wandered in. Jordan told me that Christian is excellent at cutting up a cantaloupe, and I had one I’d let sit on the counter and ripen. He cut it up and pronounced it the best ever—not too ripe, not underdone. I like them sweet and soft, and he says this one is.

Whoosh! I’m tired. I loved all the company, but I will enjoy a calm day tomorrow. I’m surely not lonely.

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