Sunday, September 5, 2010
Mike had a surprise for me, but he was going to make me work for it.
When I walked in, he was in the hallway talking to a nurse. “We just need a couple more minutes here,” he said. “Why don’t you go wait in my room, and I’ll be right there?”
I told him I would go to the restroom instead, but he wasn’t happy with that. “Why don’t you just go sit on the end of my bed and wait for me?” he said.
I didn’t think anything was unusual, other than how much I really needed to use the restroom. He was still in the hallway when I came out. “The nurse is coming right back,” Mike said. “Wanna go wait in my room?”
By now I had realized there must be something in his room I was meant to see. I happily agreed to go.
When I walked in his room, there was a man in Mike’s bed (surprise!). On closer inspection, I realized there was just a man where Mike’s bed used to be: Mike had moved to the window half of the room, and he was thrilled.
I walked into the hall, looked at Mike and raised my hands in triumph. “Yay!” I squealed. He was beaming.
Mike had been on a waiting list for a window spot for quite a while. Just recently, when someone else moved into a window spot after another resident’s death, Mike kind of squeaked some wheels to administrators. And whadya know? He got the grease.
His new space is instantly 100% roomier, brighter, more open and more cheerful. Staff members had already moved all his stuff into place, and his clothes were in a new closet and drawers. And he’s loving the looks on the nurses’ faces when they discover him on the sunny side of the room.
To top off an already happy weekend, Mike’s son and granddaughter had come to visit, and they’d had, Mike reports, “the best talks ever” (and some delicious butter-topped cinnamon rolls to boot).
Mike had a renewed light in his eyes, and it wasn’t just from the window. That’s a happy surprise, too.
Mike had a surprise for me, but he was going to make me work for it.
When I walked in, he was in the hallway talking to a nurse. “We just need a couple more minutes here,” he said. “Why don’t you go wait in my room, and I’ll be right there?”
I told him I would go to the restroom instead, but he wasn’t happy with that. “Why don’t you just go sit on the end of my bed and wait for me?” he said.
I didn’t think anything was unusual, other than how much I really needed to use the restroom. He was still in the hallway when I came out. “The nurse is coming right back,” Mike said. “Wanna go wait in my room?”
By now I had realized there must be something in his room I was meant to see. I happily agreed to go.
When I walked in his room, there was a man in Mike’s bed (surprise!). On closer inspection, I realized there was just a man where Mike’s bed used to be: Mike had moved to the window half of the room, and he was thrilled.
I walked into the hall, looked at Mike and raised my hands in triumph. “Yay!” I squealed. He was beaming.
Mike had been on a waiting list for a window spot for quite a while. Just recently, when someone else moved into a window spot after another resident’s death, Mike kind of squeaked some wheels to administrators. And whadya know? He got the grease.
His new space is instantly 100% roomier, brighter, more open and more cheerful. Staff members had already moved all his stuff into place, and his clothes were in a new closet and drawers. And he’s loving the looks on the nurses’ faces when they discover him on the sunny side of the room.
To top off an already happy weekend, Mike’s son and granddaughter had come to visit, and they’d had, Mike reports, “the best talks ever” (and some delicious butter-topped cinnamon rolls to boot).
Mike had a renewed light in his eyes, and it wasn’t just from the window. That’s a happy surprise, too.
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