Chapter 9: Safe and sound

Lorna has picked me up at the hospital.  She has very safely helped me get from the ward to the car. She has driven home with great care and parked out the front and then jumped out of the car and rushed around to open my door.  To prevent me from straining myself she is opening the door. I recognize the house we are at.  I stand outside the front door of the house and wait for Lorna to come and open it. Some things look familiar. They make me feel good.  I somehow remember that when I used to come home from a trip I always used to make myself a drink. I do that instinctively. I turn the kettle on. The tea should be in this drawer. If I just open here. Now what. Is this a tea bag? Looks different. Not in the right spot. What do I do now? I can try this bag and see if it is a tea bag.  Now what?  I have to get rid of this bag. Somehow and somewhere. I could ask someone what to do. Or I could carry it across this room and put it in this bin.  I drip water on the floor. Oh who cares about that? Not me.

Lorna enters and says, “Who’s been spilling tea or a coffee.”

I immediately drink from my cup. The only tea cup within miles. Lorna gets a mop and mops up the floor. She says, “This place always use to be clean.”

And then she adds, “For you tea is like toast. You cannot make a cup without spilling it. You cannot make a piece of toast without burning it. When you are making a drink don’t put so much water into the cup. Not that difficult.”

In hospital I could go to the tea room and make myself tea or toast any way or any time I wanted. Nobody cared. That’s the difference. Here people care about what I do. They don’t always like what I do but they care enough about me to tell me what they think.

I hear a knocking on the back screen door. What is that noise? I look and it is a dog knocking to come in. I could let him in. He comes in and stands next to me. How annoying? What do I do with him? I could ignore him, hope he goes away. He keeps on standing next to me. How can I get him to go elsewhere? Doesn’t he know what to do? He’s waiting for me to tell him what to do.  The only thing I know is that he should go elsewhere.  We never had dogs like this in hospital.  Hospital was neat and tidy and dog-free.   When I was in hospital no dog ever depended on me for anything.

I look for a chair to sit in. I think I used to lie on the bed in that other room.  I can try that. No it doesn’t work. Doesn’t feel right.  Perhaps I can go back to the chairs. They look like they should be comfortable. What did I used to sit on?  Perhaps someone can tell me.