Chapter 4
Raquel
In my line of work, it’s exceedingly troublesome not to become close to my residents. It’s hard to follow when you check in on them every day, and see how fast the disease takes someone. It’s a horrible sight, and my only job is to keep them comfortable until it’s their time. My friend, Brittaney, asks me why I choose to stay here all the time. It’s where I feel I’m doing the most good. Nurses can be bitchy sometimes, and these people deserve someone who will make them laugh and smile. It’s not their fault they have Alzheimer’s and yes, they might have a sporadic episode and become violent, but it passes. Another patient is being brought in today to take over the deserted room from Richard’s passing.
One of my patients, Daniel, has been here for two years, and his doctor told him he had six months. Now, about ninety-percent of the time, he doesn’t comprehend what year it is, but he remains tranquil enough to go throughout his daily routine. The disease doesn’t advance the same for everyone. He is one of the lucky ones.
“Hey, how are you feeling today?” I ask, laying my hand on his shoulder.
“Still alive, so great.”
Things have gotten worse, and he has come to terms with his passing, and that’s one thing that the support group tackles here. Some people aren’t able to fathom being gone, and what that will do to their families. A gentleman comes in once a month to talk to the residents and discuss legalities. Most of them don’t even have wills when they come in here, and he explains how important one is, and how to take care of things beforehand. It’s morbid, but it has to get done.
My grandpa never established a will , and at a young age, I had to watch my dad struggle over after his death. It developed into a troubling time for him, and had to stand by and watch his family home be auctioned.
My parents aren’t wealthy by any means, and back then, they were struggling just to keep the lights on. If a will had been drawn up, it would have been left to my father, and we could have been raised there. It defeated him, knowing that someone else was going to be living in the very home he spent his entire childhood.
That’s something that lingered with me, and when I turned twenty-one, the first thing I did was go to an attorney to get a will in place. I don’t have many assets, but after the divorce, Lily has been established as the beneficiary. Anything I have will be passed down to her without question. She doesn’t need to have to go through what my father did.
The eight-hour shift always goes by fast, because I enjoy my job, not the losing people part, but getting to interact with the residents and hear the stories of their lives. Some of them are quite fascinating, and I never turn down the chance to hear a good story.
Many of the residents are still asleep, but it’s seven in the morning, and there are lots of things to do today. I’m the onsite attendant, and I have some flu vaccines to administer today, and some basic check-ups to report to their doctors. I keep their charts amended with their weight and their medications. That’s my to-do list today.
Brittaney is supposed to meet me for lunch today, since we haven’t seen each other since she started seeing this new guy. I love her, but her entire world changes when a man comes into it. It’s like she has no time for me anymore. She gets tunnel vision, perhaps, and stops reaching out. Brittaney is always saying I need to get out there, and put up a profile on one of these dating apps, but no thanks. All you get on those are one-night stands or men who aren’t looking for something long-term. At thirty-five, I’m not a one-night stand type of girl. I’ve always dreamed of having the white picket fence, beautiful house, and a family. Although, it doesn’t seem to be in the cards for me.
Dean wrecked that for me. My piece of shit ex-husband who declared I wasn’t spontaneous enough for him. We were together for almost seven years, and one day, he just up and petitioned for a divorce. I still think he was having an affair, but I could never prove it. What the hell did he expect? How am I supposed to be spontaneous when I have a job that requires me to be here? I can’t just up and take a week vacation at the drop of a pin because I want to. His job allowed that, as long as he had the time. Here, I have to give at least a two-week notice before using any vacation time. Dean, such an asshole, and I hope he rots in hell.
My phone beeps, and I pull it out to read the text.
Brittaney: Still on for lunch?
Wow, I’m amazed she isn’t bailing on me.
Me: Yup. The diner at 11?
The only place in town besides fast food that can get us served quickly is the diner. I only get an hour and even though there is no one to get mad if I’m late, I don’t exploit the policy. No reason to give them ammunition to use against me if it ever comes down to budget cuts, which happens often in this line of work.
The time until lunch flies by, strolling around and chatting to the girls in the crochet club. They always talk about the good ol’ days, decades ago, when things were much simpler. They dismiss technology, and don’t believe in cell phones, internet, and all that jazz. I recall a couple of weeks ago, I overheard their discussion about the way girls dress today, and how they shouldn’t show so much skin or go out in public in pajamas. When they were younger, if you were in public, you had your makeup done, and your hair perfect. They didn’t peruse around town in anything less. To be fair, I’m glad that it’s not like that because I don’t have enough energy every morning to fix my hair and put on makeup. I just throw it up in a bun and go on my merry way. Boy, how things have changed.
“I’ll see you in a bit, ladies. Heading to lunch.”
I hang my white coat in the office, and lock the door behind me, before roaming through the main sitting area to the front door. You have to swipe your badge for them to open from the inside, so no one can go drifting around town. So I do that, and make the two block walk to the diner from the facility. It’s not too bad outside, in the mid-eighties, and a slight breeze that makes me want to let my hair down, but I don’t. I can detect the flowers blossoming in the air, and it helps that it’s my favorite season. See, I don’t like the cold, but also hate the hot. The perfect temperature for me is seventy-five with a slight breeze and the sun shining.
A squeal comes from down the street and I see Brittaney’s hands flapping around. “Girl, it’s been too long.”
I’m speculating what news she has to tell me. This isn’t like her, especially if she is still dating that guy. Usually by now, she has called me crying cause they broke up. So, when she texted me this morning about lunch, it caught me off guard. Yet, I couldn’t turn down a chance to catch up with my best friend, no matter what news she has. I love her regardless, even if she ditches me sometimes.
Her arms fasten around me, and I let it happen, but then she pulls away and takes a good look at me. Almost to where it makes me uneasy.
“Let’s go inside and eat,” she says, tugging my arm.
She chooses the booth farthest from the door, and opens the menu. So I follow her lead, not wishing to pry on this impromptu luncheon. The French dip and Swiss is amazing here, but a bacon cheeseburger sounds to die for right now. So, I decide to go with that, and add guacamole to it.
“So, while we wait for our food, we have so much to catch up on.”
I roll my eyes, wondering what the hell she is going to throw at me now. Brittaney doesn’t have a good track record with men. She once said she doesn’t believe in long-term commitment, because all that amounts to is getting cheated on or hurt in the long run. How would she even know if she has never taken the chance? Yet, I just let her do her thing, and listen about it when the time comes she needs a shoulder to cry on.
Brittaney takes my hand in hers. “I’m getting married.”