I like books.
- Name: zelda1
I live in a small town and enjoy writing about the inhabitants. I spend most of my time perusing through used book stores looking for that one great book that I don't have; consequently, I have rooms filled with books. I am a book addict.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
To feed or not
Saturday, November 11, 2006
“Can you get up?” I ask.
“If you help me. I’m so weak.”
I put a blanket in the chair and he leaned on me and I put him in the chair. His arms were covered with red Kaposi Sarcomas and he had bruises where someone had unsuccessfully tried to start his IV. I changed his sheets and filled a pan with water and washed his back and his arms and cleaned his bottom and he cleaned his private area and I got more water and cleaned his legs and his feet. I shaved him and helped him brush his teeth. Nurses came to the door and warned me about being in the room for so long and I shot them dirty looks. I took off my mask and he smiled and said, “Aren’t you afraid of getting sick?” I was but I felt so sorry for him. Never seeing faces and I didn’t care. So, I helped him back to bed and he told me that he was gay, that he had lived in San Francisco and moved back home when he became ill. That his mother came to see him in the mornings before she went to school and his father couldn’t forgive him for being gay. I started his IV on the first stick. I pushed his call bell and ordered the nurse to bring me fresh ice and sodas and I filled his water picture. I sat at his bedside and we talked and he told me that he was probably going to die and I told him that it was probably something like polio and they would find a cure.
After that, I visited him every day. I brought him flowers and homemade cookies. The other nurses teased me that he was gay, what was I trying to do.
One night, the nurse from the floor called me and said he was acting weird and I went down and he didn’t know me. We called his mother and he didn’t know her and he had to be put in four points. Someone stood at the door always watching him and by the end of the week, his mother called me and said they were saying he was dying and for her to call everyone. So, I went back to the hospital and gowned up and went inside his room and with his mother holding one hand and me the other he died. His name was Allan and he was 24 years old.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
A mother's worries
I am thankful for:
Saturday, November 04, 2006
I love the cold
I am feeling so good these last few days, minus the lack of energy, well, it’s not like I have no energy, I just don’t have all the energy I had previous to surgery. I am, though, able to stay up all day, go to class, and cook. So, I’m better.
What I don’t have is that gut wrenching pain that comes from the digestive tract digesting itself. Yep, that pain has been with me for so long that I had forgotten that it wasn’t supposed to be there, so for that I am very happy.
I love this cold dreary weather. I love that the sun is hidden and that no sweat anywhere can be found on my body and that my breathing is easy and unlabored. I have started crocheting, yikes, what is that all about? It has been days since I have had anything for pain and other than my back, I’m good. So, today is a good day.