I have been working as a speech pathologist intern at a rehab facility for the past couple of months. Beside doing the usual swallowing exams/therapy etc. I have come to learn an important lesson. . . When you grow old it doesn't matter how much money you made, or how many people you know, it's whose sitting beside you when you 80 and terminally ill that really matters.. Let me paint a picture of what i mean. These are some of the observations i have made while visiting these centers...
First a man, probably in his 80's. He watches TV all day in his one man room paid for by his sweet retirement. The only person to visit him are the nurses that give him his meds and the occasional activities commitee coordinator whom he yells out the door.
Then a woman, in her late 50's but looks at least 80. Her lips are weighed down in wrinkles that sink them into a permanant frown. When you talk to her you feel the life drained out of you. You seek to help her but she is rather inconsoleable. You often wonder what her life story and why she is the way she is. You've never seen anyone visit her and you herself are reluctant to walk into her room and let her gloom overwhelm you.
Then another woman, a widow. She doesn't care for T.V. So she sits in her room and looks at the wall for 12 plus hours. When you walk in her face lights up. She is cognitively able and makes good conversation. She's pleasant and kind, and in some strange way she is completly content with life. As you walk out of her room, you carry a small prayer in your heart that someone will come visit her. Her smile is needed in this world.
A woman of 55. She cries as she sits in rehab. Sad and lonely. She's been married for 20 plus years. She has been in the hospital over 3 weeks. Her husband has visited her once. I don't know their story. But right now it's a sad one.
Finally an optimistice woman. She is fragile and kind. She has had a life empty of earthly glory but full of love as she had many children and in turn grandchildren. Her husband sits by her side everyday, all day. He brings in her favorite foods which he knows she can't eat. So he grinds it up for her to aid in her recovery. He speaks of her recovery often and tells her she can do it. The whole experiance weighs on the sweet man, and he seems overwhelmed at times. But he stays. He waits, She waits. It is neither of their ideal situations but over the years the love has been established and they understand their roles. That is, to love each other despite the convienance.
It all makes me wonder what kind of life i will lead. Will i be sad and lonely, or will I be satisfied and loved. I hope it's the latter.
So it's all made me think, What patient will I be?
ob on a paper, or won a participation medal in a 5k there would be no doubt it would be placed somewhere in the house where everyone could see it! But when Mitch picked up his Trophy Elk from the taxidermy I was completely torn. You should have seen him, he was Beaming! As each car drove by us on the freeway I saw him slighly look to see each ones reaction. Some, like me, were grossed out, while others (mostly men) would give him that manly head nod that said, "nice". It was as if this dead animal proclaimed "I Was Shot By A Real Man"!
ould be afraid it would lick people as it looked into 
their eyes. Thankfully, Mitchell is a smart man and could see that it simply would not be happy in our home. So, if you would like to come and see it, it is happily mounted in his Dad's garage on Mutton Hollow just waiting for the day that we build a big cabin for it to live in!
