Not much excitement, but one day at a time things are moving forward. I had hoped after a week of difficulties I had lost at least 10 pounds, but I weigh exactly the same amount I did two weeks ago. I imagine some of my weight is the edema in my leg following the surgery. We who want to lose weight have great imaginations.
To take some of the burden off David, I made arrangements for temporary help with the preparation of the noon time meal for the upcoming next week, and after one day cancelled the arrangement which was to have involved menu ideas, food shopping and preparation and clean up. The young gal who helped me this morning arrived on time and clocked in via my phone, but she had little or no experience and I felt like Miss Marple* or one of Agatha Christie’s other characters, training a new cook….a wearying task for one just out of a hospital bed.
(*Remember the book and film Murder at the Vicarage? and recall that many of AC’s stories involved cooks or other help)
Most of the people who have cared for me on this recent medical venture have come from other parts of the world. They are younger and mostly immigrants who entered the US on a special work visas. In the hospital, I counted a representative from almost every place under the sun including central Asia. They seem delighted when I knew my geography well enough to identify their place of origin, especially as most of them come from Eastern Europe, Eurasia or some place in Latin America other than Mexico.
The night nurse from Brazil who wore her hair in a tight scarf was quite memorable, speaking Portuguese and French , as well as English, and helping me to the toilet every 5 minutes through the night without complaint. A doctor told me it is unfortunate that we who speak English use the word “right” when we mean “correct.” He pointed to the hip undergoing surgery and said “Is this the correct hip?”
Our hospital, and I suspect many others in the United States are staffed by a growing number of immigrants from other parts of the world. All of them must learn to read and write in English to obtain work here, something many of our own children do not do as well as they should.
The people helping me at home include, my nurse Victor of Phillilino descent, my Physical Therapist, B J, of Asian Indian descent, and today, the very young girl from Sierra Leone who helped me today, and had never smelled rosemary.
Brother Dunston visiting today and hearing my tale of woe regarding helping hands suggested TV dinners are not so bad. Tomorrow we go back to those. Some helping hands, such as those I had today, have left me very weary.