The Cold Bed

A Hill-Rom hospital bed (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Lying in the cold bed, feeling the cold plastic under the sheet when I move my leg to a more comfortable spot. Kleenex in hand.  Looking out the window, seeing nothing. Back hurting. In need of a different position. Try scooting myself up, but too weak to do it. No one in here. Light is out of my reach. Having to use the bathroom, but not able to let anyone know. Glancing up at the wall clock. Lunch is in two hours. Will someone come by before then? Bed is wet, I couldn’t wait. Cold was touching my bones.Feet were peeking out from the end of the bed, where I had shifted my legs too much. Burning sensation. Help me, someone please come in and ask me how I am doing, do I need anything. Eyes closing, but not tired. Restless. Wondering how my kids are doing. It was going to be Easter this Sunday. Would they come? Would they bring the grandchildren? I got to paint a couple of eggs earlier this week. I have been saving them for the little ones.  Lunch time. They are here to get me up into my wheel chair. I heard two of them mumbling together about how they were going to be late to the dining room, because now they had to stop and change my clothes. They didn’t realize I could hear the nasty remarks they were saying about me. My hearing is still very good. They told me to roll over. I did the best I could, but required help to finish the request. All done now, and up in my chair. A feeling of dizziness as my head was now in an upright position. Dining room was filled with chatter. People were talking about how they had been outside, or they had played bingo, or made a craft. Sitting across from three others, no one spoke, and so I also said nothing. Not recognizing lunch, no one explained what it was. All foods were mashed. An hour has passed and I am back in my bed. I prayed for a quick death. I didn’t want to live anymore. 90-year-old female, time of passing, 1:14pm. Tuesday, April 2nd, 2012. Services, no visitation, burial at Oakdale cemetary.

Open Doors

Open Door A welcoming open door at St.Mary Magdalene's church http://www.geograph.org.uk/photo/1278054 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He jerked her by the hair and shook her head, yelling at her to get up. To stop the begging for attention thing. He wasn’t going to tolerate it anymore! All she could do is lie there. She could hear every word he was saying but could not defend herself with actions nor words. She was about to pass out. He drug her from the floor and put her on the couch, yelling what’s the matter with you? She managed to voice the words that her sugars were low. I could hear him laughing, as he walked in to the kitchen and poured a bowl of cereal. Putting the milk on and grabbing a spoon, he took it to her and thrust it in her lap. She started eating it slowly. It was so difficult to make her body move by this point. She wasn’t eating fast enough for his liking, so he took the bowl and dumped it over her head, laughing and walking away. She wasn’t going to go in to a coma, not here, not like this. She somehow made it to the kitchen and scooped out sugar from the sugar bowl and poured it in her mouth with her hands. She fell to the floor, so weak, barely able to stand. She laid there until the sugar did its job. She was able to stand up again and minute by minute she was back to herself. She hated him. She hated him with a passion, but she knew she couldn’t make it on her own, so she stayed and tolerated the abuse.  When her kids came to visit, they begged her to leave him. Mom, he isn’t worth it! He is going to end up killing you. Please get out. They didn’t realize that I had no money. He controlled everything in her life. Money, decisions, clothes she wore, what foods they were going to buy and eat, what friends she had. She was flat broke. God was watching over her though, he was there with her when she didn’t even ask or want him to be. She got a phone call from a friend of a friend, whose parents needed a caregiver . She asked how many hours, and what days, and decided she would take the job. It was a break from him and a way to get out. She had no car, but he figured he would take her since it was going to be more money in his pocket. She loved her job. She loved being needed. The parents were so sweet. It was hard not to fall in love with them. She connected with the extended family and found bonding with all of them so easy. She started hiding a portion of her pay from her husband, and after about six months, she had enough saved up to move in to an apartment of her own. Thanks to a long time friend, she now owned a used car. Although she had no money for deposits for rents, or utilities, God opened all doors for her. The rent deposit was broken down into small monthly payments. The land lady understood very well what she had been put through. The deposits for the utilities were zero dollars. She paid her first month rent, and went back to her home. She waited until he went to work, and gathered all she could fit in her car. Leaving a note, saying, see ya!. When she unlocked the door to her new home, a huge boulder was instantly lifted from her shoulders. She was free! Free! She carried her belongings in side from her car and started putting things in place where she thought they should go. After she completed this, she laid down on her bed and drifted off to sleep. When she woke up, it was just dusk. She took a shower, and got dressed and grabbed her purse, and out the door she went. Inside her car, she checked her wallet, and she knew if she was very careful she could get enough groceries until next pay-day. She drove to the store and walked in like she had never been there before. Her head was held high, a smile on her face, saying hi to everyone that looked her way. She had done it! She had asked for a way to escape the abuse, and God heard her and opened all doors.

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