Birfday Boy

Friday Peter turned 73. I visited, of course, didn't wanna miss da rocket cake, hey. Except, well... he wasn't having a very good day. I didn't find him in his room, so went looking and there he was in the hall pulling himself along a railing, soooo concentrated and frustrated that he was having a hard time of it. So I was about fifteen feet away, and he'd look up, but... no recognition at all, and I thought, oh, THIS is gonna be a ton of fun. The house doctor was on the sidelines and suddenly seemed interested. I sort of shook my head at him, as if to say, 'WHAA???' No reaction. So I tentatively approached him and said 'Peter???' Once I was close to him, his face it up in recognition and joy. Not that looking at me is any reason to be joyous, believe me. That was the only smile I got, by the way. Of the three hours, he was just exhausted. We sat in the garden for half an hour, the weather was picture perfect beautiful, warm, and Spring is showing off down there in its' usual showy way.

But sitting hurt him, he wanted to sleep. The entire afternoon freaked me out totally. But I've seen him like that before. Apathetic. I couldn't get another smile out of him till I mentioned some news he missed or forgot about a corrupt politician. But didn't have the camera ready. It was just all too private.

So most of the time I was there he slept, and I watched him for a while, trying to remember the perosn in the shell that I loved so much, and find traces. Then I turned on his tee-vee very low, and ascertained that I haven't been missing ANYTHING.

Of course I kept going out, and feeding my asthma. And I said I would never do this... but there was a man out there with a goiter the likes of which I have NEVER seen. It's a thyroid condition, and there used to be a lot of people who had that malady back in the day... lack of iodine in their diet. But he was really a record breaker for me. And whereas that used to be sort of uncommon, but not unusual, it is very rare. He was very friendly... and racist. Going on about 'Jugos'. In front of a slovenian caretaker, yet. She said, 'There are no more 'iugos'... that stopped in 1991. You mean Slovenians.' He sure back peddaled, and made nice. Friendly, if rather stupid man. There was another man who seemed ok... asking me about my camera..... and then he wanted to ask me something. And his brain froze... He struggled and struggled, but the words just weren't there, and he was asking for help. With vague gestures. That went on for what seemed like forever, but was only three minutes, I would think. Painful to watch, that struggle, and being locked in his head, with some key words hidden somewhere.


Between times I was back and forth, so despite the picture perfect day in the picture perfect setting.... it was disgustingly depressing. But there was an easter bunny in the garden already.
And the personnel are unbelievably good. And in the two years now... hardly any new faces, no big staff turnover. Which is also very good.



On the trip back, got off the bus to be accosted by this... next to the church. What does an easter bunny have to do with catholicism, I ask you... And you probably won't be able to answer that either. Just sayin'. The eggs were hideous.