For the first Two weeks of my stay at the new hospital I was in a large side room with a lovely large en-suite bathroom. It was so nice that If I imagined hard enough I could kid myself that I wasn't in hospital and that ,I was in fact, relaxing in a hotel room on holiday! I was then moved to a two bed room. The bathroom was across the hall and I couldn't close the door but other than that I couldn't complain! The bed space is massive and the windows over look some trees and you can watch the sun go down at night. I also found myself a great friend In my new neighbour. I was only in with her for a few days before she was got discharged and went home. I was super happy for her but it the room felt very big and lonely without someone else in there.
Then about ten days ago they moved a large bed opposit me, put Lilliputian the brakes on and left. I found out that the lilliputian mass the middle of the bed was in fact an elderly lady who, for the sake of privacy, we shall call Jane. She had been found by her son and taken into A&E with a cracked vertebrae. I was a little unsure as how to talk to her due to the massive age difference. She is 93. I'm 16. I was therefore terrified that I would say something to her thta she found offensive.
However I soon found out that she has a short term memory problem and anything offensive that I may or may not say would soon be forgotten.
Although she is quite harmless, having to live with anyone who you normally wouldn't choose to spend long periods of time with can be more than a little peculiar. A lot of the time she has little to no idea where she is. It's so distressing to witness when she sits for hours on end asking the same 4 or 5 questions. Who are you? Where am I? Who are and what are you doing in my room? Do you know if anyone Is coming to visit me? All of theses questions are asked in the same weak and scared voice that rips into you and pulls all of your heart strings.
But when her son comes in to visit she completely changes. It is both a joy and a sadness to witness.
She becomes completely convinced that her son is her husband , who died nearly ten years ago.
Her face lights up and she grabs his hand and tells him how much she has missed him before launching into sharing memories. It is truly amazing to watch this tiny, wizened old woman become so alive as the most amazing tales stream from her mouth. It's like she has eaten a history textbook and made it 100 x more amazing and interesting. Her fathers was in World War One and her only memory of him is playing blackjack with cigarette cards in the late twenties. She remembers the milkman giving her a sixpence on the morning of her 10th birthday.
There are memory's of first dances, holiday romances and rebellious adventures.
For all my original reservations about living with someone so different from myself, I'm am glad that I have had the opportunity to talk to someone as interesting as Jane. I have learnt that you shouldn't try and pre-empt a situation before you know all the information x
Fair thee well Internet
Ylena xx
Then about ten days ago they moved a large bed opposit me, put Lilliputian the brakes on and left. I found out that the lilliputian mass the middle of the bed was in fact an elderly lady who, for the sake of privacy, we shall call Jane. She had been found by her son and taken into A&E with a cracked vertebrae. I was a little unsure as how to talk to her due to the massive age difference. She is 93. I'm 16. I was therefore terrified that I would say something to her thta she found offensive.
However I soon found out that she has a short term memory problem and anything offensive that I may or may not say would soon be forgotten.
Although she is quite harmless, having to live with anyone who you normally wouldn't choose to spend long periods of time with can be more than a little peculiar. A lot of the time she has little to no idea where she is. It's so distressing to witness when she sits for hours on end asking the same 4 or 5 questions. Who are you? Where am I? Who are and what are you doing in my room? Do you know if anyone Is coming to visit me? All of theses questions are asked in the same weak and scared voice that rips into you and pulls all of your heart strings.
But when her son comes in to visit she completely changes. It is both a joy and a sadness to witness.
She becomes completely convinced that her son is her husband , who died nearly ten years ago.
Her face lights up and she grabs his hand and tells him how much she has missed him before launching into sharing memories. It is truly amazing to watch this tiny, wizened old woman become so alive as the most amazing tales stream from her mouth. It's like she has eaten a history textbook and made it 100 x more amazing and interesting. Her fathers was in World War One and her only memory of him is playing blackjack with cigarette cards in the late twenties. She remembers the milkman giving her a sixpence on the morning of her 10th birthday.
There are memory's of first dances, holiday romances and rebellious adventures.
For all my original reservations about living with someone so different from myself, I'm am glad that I have had the opportunity to talk to someone as interesting as Jane. I have learnt that you shouldn't try and pre-empt a situation before you know all the information x
Fair thee well Internet
