My Life

  1. This week is infusion week. 5 days of IVIG.
  2. The box of medicine was supposed to come on Friday, usually delivered to my room. I have been searching around for it for a while. Was it in the lobby? Did someone sign for it?
  3. This morning I woke up and decided to go down to the “wellness” center and as soon as I looked into what is a dispensary, I saw my carton of IG sitting in the middle of the room.
  4. Oh, the “nurse” laughed. were you looking for this. It came Friday.
  5. Brilliant, I thought to myself. Had you called me I could have picked it up. But I bit my tongue. These are incompetent people who don’t give a shit about you. I put the large carton on my lap (I’m in wheelchair) and brought it up to my room.

Yesterday, one of the new case workers, maybe 25 years old, comes into my room to go over why I’m in a wheelchair. He doesn’t seem to have read any notes about my case, and tells me he didn’t mean to scare me about getting kicked out, that is a conversation for later if needed.

Of course he didn’t know about the ups and downs I’ve been through or all the PT and OT. While he was talking to me BB came in. She comes in to “check” on me a few times a week. Maybe I’m not joining enough, but she is really just a management spy.

And then to end the day the President and CEO arrives saying she wants to check my medicine. While she is checking, the wheelchair comes up again. I tell her that I’ve read the law pertaining to Assisted Living. Nothing about wheelchairs.

She says it has to do with evacuation during a fire. I tell her that the last time th had a fire drill they used the elevators. There was no way they were going to remove walkers and rollaters from the residents and get them emptied down 14 flights.

I tell you the truth, I would love to sue them for discrimination against the disabled. And that’s my thought for the day. It’s supposed to be warm today and I plan to go to the park with Barb and Matt.

Published by Dave

My name is David Beckerman. I am a fine art photographer working in New York City. Or I was before I had two strokes. I now write from a Nursing Home.

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