Yes, friends, we have arrived at nursing home status. You can't walk in our front door without knowing that there is a sick person in the house. The tip off is two tables and a pile of important stuff around my recliner. It helps that I have a walker within reach and a grabber. Don't forget my snacks and ever-present glass of water.
I'm not sick. I'm just waiting to be set free. I suffer from certain physician restrictions which, after 12 weeks, are starting to feel like the hug of an Amazonian python. For a person with a relatively new hip and a broken leg I've done alright but apparently my leg hasn't. I've taken to talking to this leg and begging it to come to the party. Turns out that it's not a party leg.
In the old days the rooms in our 1100 sq. ft. house were perfect for us and we had everything we needed. We didn't need anything else. Oh happy days! We had a lovely big rug in our living room and lots of nifty colorful throw rugs at doorways and in other rooms. Those have been gone since November along with anything that would have gotten in the way of a walker. We made peace with this.
Then came the toilet risers, bathtub seats, special fixtures and wall-mounted hand bars. After those, we found other places which could be improved. It should be said that we are blessed to live in a house with 36” doors. This means I can get a small wheelchair or walker through those doors to the bathroom or bedroom without trouble. The trouble happens when I use my walker as a ramming device.
With an unknown future and these weeks to while away, my optimism forced me to keep buying stuff that might help me sit softer, walk faster, jump higher, stand straighter and take up less space. If this sounds wrong to you... I can verify that you are correct.
It hurt. I finally got back to the computer. It took me some weeks to sit here comfortably. My excuse was that I had to write Geezer Tribe. I want to thank each and every one of you for getting me out of that recliner. I also wish that you had sent me all your advice and experience. You knew I'd get myself in a get well buying blitz.
The problem with the get well blitz is that you can't afford it and it probably won't do you a darned bit of good. I have made some good decisions with the help of physical therapists but they don't stay around very long. OK, it's not your fault that I bought four butt cushions and that same leg we talked of earlier doesn't like any one of them.
Though I hate to admit this, I sit in my recliner on a pad stolen from my computer chair. The other pads? Gone away to friends. The truth: Sit before you buy. The grand total of expense from this hip surgery continues to grow.
I sleep in the guest room now because our bed was built for Mr. S. So, I bought a new mattress by phone for the guest room. I suggest you not do this. I hate sleeping apart from Mr. S. The issue is that I need a 5” platform in order to get onto his bed. Yup, in my hope to get back to normal, I bought a platform. I took one of my walkers and placed it there. It looks quite nice. Am I ready to try this? Nope.
My family advisers are scared to death that I will try to get into the big bed and fall on my new hip. You've got to take chances to make it in this world. The big bed is the next one up for me. Not to worry... I'll take practice runs before I get to the big night. On that night, I will be able to hear Mr. S snoring and feel his body warmth. Grover will finally be relieved of the duty of taking care of both of us. The poor little guy has spent half a night with each of us for months.
Though it may look like a nursing home, our home is where life really works. Somehow, we will find places to store all these old people things as soon as we can. We already know they will be needed again. Probably sooner than later.
In the meantime, we have to watch Price is Right tomorrow. It's a date.
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