As I posted last time, I've been moved into a Rehab Facility for some Physical Therapy. My first room was 242 and my Roommate's name was Keith. He was a quiet guy, on the large side, and he'd been there for about a week and a half already. Now the 1st rule to sharing a room in a Rehab place is that you don't ask what your Roomie's there for. Keith's problem was pretty obvious - his legs were very swollen.
When I first got there, I noticed that there wasn't a menu so I just accepted whatever they sent up. Keith gave me the number for the kitchen so I was able to order what I wanted, which I will be forever grateful for.
Because we were all quarantined, my ex-wife would stop by every other day or so and drop off "care packages" of goodies and the newspapers. She was doing this when I was in the hospital but we now had something extra - she could walk over and we could talk through the window.
You can't know how important person-to-person contact is - even with a window pane still between you.
My Physical Therapy was done in-room at first because they were concerned about my ability to walk in the hallways. But today that changed - today I got a walker and I could now go anywhere as long as I had a Trainer with me.
That night I got a text from Doyle. He let me know that he'd been monitoring my situation since I was first admitted and assured me that I was in good hands.
I slept well that night.
The Facility changed their Covid Protocol on Monday, June 1st. They decided to separate those who'd only had 1 Covid Positive Test from the other patients. As a result, I was relocated to the "Yellow Zone" (a wing they could close off) and I would up in Room 204 with a new Roomie, Bruce. He was an older, quiet guy but friendly. I told him how to call in to the kitchen to order his meals which he seemed to be happy about. In fact, I started to copy his Breakfast order - 2 eggs over easy with French Toast and syrup. Delicious! Of course, I usually added some oatmeal and a yogurt and I always ordered coffee.
My ex-wife continued to drop off "care packages" and we continued to "talk" through the window.
I had a second Covid Test done.The PT sessions continued. Doyle kept in touch - texting every other day or so.
My test results came back after a few days and it was Negative again. It was now time to move me from the Yellow Zone to the Green Zone. I wound up in Room 129 on Wednesday June 10th. This was when I realized that I was in a mixed-use facility. Because of the current Covid situation, they had to mix in long-term care patients with those of us who were there strictly for Rehab. My new Roomie, Joe, was one of those and he definitely needed constant attention. He'd sleep most of the time but would wake whenever and yell out for people who weren't there; scream for help from the nurses; and sing as loudly as possible.
Thankfully, my ex-wife was still able to swing by and we were still able to "talk".
Now my PT sessions were held in 1 of 2 recreation rooms that were on either end of the wing. I would walk there using my walker and then do whatever exercise the Trainer chose. These were tough then before and tired me out but I could definitely feel an improvement.
I continued to call in for my meals but I didn't share how to do it with Joe because he was on a special diet.
I found out something interesting about the rooms in this wing. The audio for the individual TV's was actually on the hand-held control.
I could keep mine down to a level where it wouldn't bother Joe but his volume was off. His TV was on but he didn't watch it, just slept or cried out whenever the mood hit him. What could I do?
Doyle continued to touch base and I appreciated it.
Monday the 15th I had a visitor - Wells, Mr.. Jones representative. I don't know how he got in considering the quarantine but those kinds of people usually do whatever they want to. He told me that Jones was monitoring my recovery and was hoping for a rapid recovery (which I know meant he wanted me back on the hunt). Wells also asked if I'd heard from Doyle and, of course, I denied it. He looked skeptical but he left.
The next few days were carbon-copies of each other. Meals, PT, TV, reading, crossword puzzles, and Joe capping things off.
I was discharged on Thursday the 18th and my ex-wife picked me up. We had agreed that I'd stay with her for a week or 2 until she thought I was strong enough to be by myself.
A Visiting Nurse came by on Friday the 19th and discussed how things were and what I could expect going forward - visits from PT Trainers and calls from a Social Worker and a Nutritionist. Since Medicare covers these, I didn't object.
Today is Father's Day and the immediate family got together.
After all this time apart it was great to be able to interact with my Daughter and Granddaughter.
There's a lot more ahead including visits to several doctors but I think I've passed the halfway mark. This should be it the -
one last stop before Home.
