Banner photo of Larry Eugene Meredith, Ronald Tipton and Patrick Flynn, 2017.

The good times are memories
In the drinking of elder men...

-- Larry E.
Time II

Thursday, September 24, 2020

Rehab: Part Hospital, jail, insane Asylum 17

 

I didn't sleep well the night before I was supposed to be discharged.  Its was so close now. What if something happened, I fall getting out of bed in the morning.  Late that evening a nurse came by to say they were going to test me for the coronavirus in the morning, around 4:00. Why 4:00? I didn't want to be disturbing Frank with any commotion. 

"Why can't we of to now, tonight?"

They had no objection. The nurse just had to go get the sub on the stick.  That didn't take long to do and she soon was about and did the test.

         Now I worried. What if this test came back positive? They aren't going to let me go if that was the case. They would hold me there and I'd go back to the 14 days of quarantine.  And then what?

     Morning came and I was still going hone. The special van would come around 10:00.  My Physical Therapist came in to say goodbye and help me pack.  out of my stuff was already in the knapsack. The Therapist put the rest of my things  together. I got the opened packs of pullups and all the toiletries. Why now, they had been billed to me. They belonged to me.

     A therapist delivered the new wheelchair I was getting.  It was 18 inches  across, less wide than the wheelchairs I had at rehab. This would fit more easy win my home.

     I watched the clock and right about ten they told me the Gem Transport van was arrived. Two aids, including good old Bonnie, rolled me out of the building. The lady driving the van took me from there. She put me on the platform that lift chair and I up and then wheeled me into the back of the van.  I kept thinking about all the movies were the van doors open on route and the patient goes rolling down the street.  Not likely, she really strapped the wheelchair down.

      We were soon off. It was far from there to my home. She rolled me up our ramp, and I walked up the four steps to the living area. See, that practice with steps at rehab paid off. She brought my wheelchair up with my stuff. I was home.

     I got into my big chair and looked about in shock.

                

1 comment:

Ron said...

Lar,
I can't get that picture out of my mind the van door swinging open and you rolling out in your wheelchair screaming as you hit the asphalt of I-95. What an ignominious end to a fabulous life. From Mr. Peanut to roadkill on I-95.
Ron