Two young women got me into a wheelchair. You are being moved one said. They told me to put on my mask, the wheeled out. They said do nor worry your stuff will be brought to the new room I was pushed down a coulee of corridors and into another room. I pasted a bed with an elderly black man in it. They said, "say hello to your new roommate."
I was placed in a bed next to a window with a curtain between this man and myself. When I was in the old room, I would hear a man shouting and screaming. I felt sorry for the people near him for he was very loud and annoying. Guess what. This was the man and I now shared a room with him.
It was awful. He would howl all the time. I realized this place was part hospital, part jail and part insane asylum. This guy never used his call bell, he just screamed for someone.
I bore it with patience that first day, but n the second day I realized if I wa in that room very long I would go crazy and be screaming too. The next day he was not only screaming and babbling until well after midnight, he began asking me questions. I was polite and answered him, but I want to go to sleep. Sometime or other I did drift off to sleep.
When I awoke the next day, he was still at it. Now he was speaking to an imaginary person, giving them directions on moving something. Aides and then my therapists would hake their heads and roll their eyes when then came in to the room. They pitied me. But some of the therapist pitied me enough to speak to the powers that be. The director of the floor showed up in the afternoon and told me I was being moved.
Two aides came by and got me into a wheelchair and rolled me to the farthest room there. "The man in this room is quiet," they told me.
It would prove to be a good move.
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