Tuesday Notes

When I called you this morning, I was surprised by the clarity of your conversation. You were really joyful and full of expectation, I heard the exuberance of someone who is getting ready for a graduation prom. You graduation from this hospital is tomorrow.

Then, I found you resting when I arrived in the afternoon. I went for my appointment with the social worker while you stayed in your room. You have two new neighbours, two oriental grandmas. I asked you what did you feel when you saw several of your previous roommates leaving and you stayed behind. You said that you had a feeling of dissapoinment of not healing fast enough so you could also leave. However, you realize the challenge that aphasia represents; you now well the frustration of not being able to communicate and the resulting loneliness and depression that can develop within these walls of limited expression. On the other hand, you also recognize the many friends that faithfully have continued coming to visit you. They have been very important in this struggle, and they will continue to be so.

We had dinner together by your bedside. You tasted my food, I tasted yours. It was a warm feeling of familiarity in a strange place. I have come to see this as a normal occurrence. It's been 110 days, almost four months since the last time you and I had dinner together at home. You felt nostalgic for those days and the sense of normalcy that has become a distant memory. While we ate, the other visitors and their relatives in the hospital also shared their meals. It was like being in a park sharing space with other people, all respecting the little privacy each can have and sharing the same feeling of gratitude mixed with the sadness that illness brings into our lives.

You helped me move to the car your plants and the extra clothes you had in your drawers. Everyone who saw you was ready to tell you farewell with a smile, then you corrected them by telling them that your last day is tomorrow. You were carrying your cloth bag and walking by yourself, while I was carrying several plants. You have progressed in your walking so much! I asked you what were you expecting the future, you said you wanted the functions of your R hand back as well as sight in the R eye. You are aware that your determination to "find" these functions in your brain are crucial, as well as you faith in the many words you have received that "all that is your will be restored"

I was very moved when I showed you the guest book where many people wrote messages for you. Tears were welling in your eyes when you read some of the messages. This is the first time you register in your memory these words, you had heard them before, but could not remember or understand them. You felt embraced and loved by the many who wrote some words in this book. For an instant, we felt back in the communities to which we belong.

You said you were ready to go home -and anxious because of the change-, a smaller paradox compared to what you have faced in the past few months. After the hygiene routine you got into bed and with a kiss, I left. There was an overwhelming sense of love and peace that neither of us can explain...

Fede