Being Moved When You Age

Being Moved When You Age

 

 

I recently fell ill for five months and found myself... not in my home but in Brookdale Park, a Senior Independent Living community.  It was quite a change from my retirement to the woods where I expected to live my final days and die in the comfort of my own home.

It's very beautiful here and the residents and hosts are friendly but it doesn't feel like home.  Instead of cathedral ceilings, I have straight, cracker box ceilings.  It took everything I had left from my retirement (which was basically nothing) after spending it on trying to heal Diane's stomach cancer in order to purchase a double-wide trailer with cathedral ceilings.  Now it's taking everything I have to live here.

It's alright I guess.  It's just not what I'm used to.  I was trying to get away from the hustle and bustle of the big city and have enough room between my place and the neighbors to work on my music without disturbing them too much.  Now I'm in an apartment and the neighbors are close but so far no one has complained about the music.  In fact, I'm becoming a bit of a celebrity around here.  Of course, I'm playing an acoustic guitar right now and not my electric.  There ARE some people here who like blues but most of them seem to be into Country music (yuk) rather than the type of music I generally play.  I even got cussed out by two different people for not knowing San Antonio Rose.  Boy, those old ladies can get MAD if you don't know their favorite song!  I'm just glad they didn't pick up their purses and start hitting me over the head!  Haha

I'm trying to make the best of things.  I get one meal a day... the large meal being lunch in the dining room.  Sometimes the selection isn't optimal for me since I have no teeth so I have to get creative in my ordering.  I don't REALLY want to order a ten dollar hamburger everyday.  They have a nasty habit of substituting a pasta dish when I order potatoes... sometimes with cheese, which is bad for my IBS, and the pasta makes me choke because it gets stuck in the flap where I pulled out my vocal cords trying to pull out my breathing tube after my second CABG.  I guess I'm going to have to be more firm about getting what I ask for instead of what they WANT to give me.  I realize that there are a lot of people ordering a lot of different things, but they DO have electronic devices on which they can write the orders.  These are the same devices on which they charge you for your meal.

I need to start cooking again.  My sister did buy me some new pots and pans.  They're not the expensive ones I bought and are used to but I COULD cook with them.  I just have to wait for payday and see if I have any money left for food.  I have very little in my refrigerator and pantry at the moment.  That's another thing I have to get used to.  It's just strange being without a way to get the things I need.  I can starve myself of some of my medication if I have to in order to buy food.  They seem to be overdosing me on blood pressure medicine at the moment anyway.  Either that or my heart is just on its last legs with the arteries being so plugged.  I DO still seem to be getting around fairly well with my mom's rollator though so as long as I don't have a sudden blood pressure drop, I'm okay.  I can cook what I need when I get some food and what I need right now is spinach.  Strangely enough, if I start getting warts, I know that I need spinach.  I had three on my foot and ate spinach everyday for two weeks and they went away.  Fifty-nine years of trial and error has let me know what my body needs.  Oh, and I also need to learn to cook meat that's tender enough for me to eat.  My heart still needs it to heal.  I really don't get enough protein from Vegan diets or even eating just fish for some reason.  Eating beef seems to line out my blood pressure generally.

Socializing is strange at first.  I'm lucky that I smoke or I probably wouldn't have many friends yet.  Playing guitar and singing helps as well.  They keep wanting me to perform for the Fun Friday event but I'm not performance ready at this time and I don't have the equipment that I really need to make it a better experience.  Some people are suspicious of strangers at first because they're afraid that you're going to "narc" on them for smoking cigarettes outside their door instead of going to the designated areas.  Heck.  I don't care what they do.  If they want to drink in the smoking area (which I don't think is allowed since the American Bistro serves alcohol), I don't care.  It's cheaper for them to buy their own than pay $4.00 a beer.  I know what it's like to be on a very strict budget.  I just try to get along with everyone and stay out of their squabbles with other tenants as much as possible.  Being probably the youngest tenant here makes things a little strange sometimes and I feel like an outcast most of the time except when I'm with my friends at the smoking table.  I try to keep them laughing as much as possible but there are some days that it's hard for me to joke around.  It would be nice to find someone who can make me laugh too.  A couple of the ladies come up with a nice zinger on occasion but many of the people here can't hear or don't have the mental faculties to carry on a conversation.  Sometimes people avoid me because they think I'm one of the staff unless I'm carrying around my guitar.  I guess I need to carry around my guitar more often.

I HAVE gotten the nickname Superman here since I generally wear a Superman shirt when I play guitar for the ladies.  It was my performance outfit online so it may as well be here too.  The old folks like Superman anyway.  As long as it makes people happy, who is it hurting?  The only people who seem to object are my family.  Ah well.  I think they're at least used to it by now.  I really don't know what they have against Superman.  Maybe they're Batman fans.  hah

If I had my vehicle, the Willowbrook Mall is only one block away.  I could probably make it with the rollator if I took enough sit breaks but I'm a little uneasy about getting out of the range of my locator until the doctor gets my blood pressure medications straightened out.  Right now my body is holding me captive from going and exploring the hot spots.  Of course, money is an issue at the moment as well.  After having someone somehow getting my new debit card number (which I haven't even had a chance to use) and putting a bunch of $39.00 charges on it, it hasn't left much to even pay the bills.  My sister went to the bank and thinks that she finally got it straightened out.  They cancelled the card again so HOPEFULLY they won't be able to get the new card number AGAIN.  Every time I ordered the MIDI cables for my electric piano, my mom lost the card and cancelled it anyway so it was useless for me to try to order anything online.  I'm not sure what happened this time.  I went to the websites listed on the bank statement and they appeared to be phishing sites though so I suspect that someone tried to order something with my card, perhaps by accident.

I guess the biggest adjustment to being moved into a place like this is the loss of control over your own life.  Yes, I forget people's names sometimes and I can't remember telephone numbers since the mini-stroke but other than that, my brain seems to be functioning fairly well.  Maybe I'm not functioning as well as I think I am but everyone here seems to feel that I'm functioning just fine.  Yes, I have problems when the diarrhea hits and my blood pressure drops making me nearly pass out or completely pass out once but I'm on a medication to help control that now.  If it works, I should be fine.  That and not eating milk products does make a difference.  It's probably good to be in a place where there are people in case something DOES happen, but it's still hard losing control over your finances and possessions.  I'm not BIG on possessions but I WOULD like to have what I need to do the things I'd like to do to at least bring a little happiness to others.  Knowing that you're probably serving a life sentence in a place, even if it's nice, is a difficult adjustment.  A nice prison is still a prison.  I'm not really confined since I can leave when I want as long as I check out and back in so they know why the locator alarm is going off but it still feels as if you're being monitored.  I understand that it's for my health but it's still disconcerting.  I don't feel old enough to be in this situation.  I'm pretty sure that even the 80+ year olds feel the same way.  Still, I'm quite a bit younger than most of the people here so my feeling this way is probably a little more justified.

I guess I'll get used to it eventually.  I might have to have a few good cries with some of the other tenants who feel that they were snatched from their lives and abandoned in a place out of the way of the family on occasion, but I'll get used to it.  It's just a major adjustment.

This isn't the first time that God has moved me around.  I know that I'm helping people but I thought that I had finally finished my work and was moving on in the place in which I chose for that purpose.  Maybe I'll be miraculously healed again and be able to travel around to other places to cheer up the elderly again.  Maybe I'll just finish my time here.  This place wouldn't be so lonely if I had a mate and a vehicle.  I envy those who do.  I guess I'll just have to wait to see what God has in store.  I'm just having to do without so many of the things that I used to have at my fingertips and having to do without the company of my pets that I'm feeling stir-crazy.  Well, it's almost 2:00am and my mind is very tired so I guess I had better go back to bed.  Maybe one of these days I'll get used to this place enough to be able to sleep at night.

Love, Hope, Peace, and Christ Be With You,

Cal-el