Not a Good Move

I woke up Saturday sad. As I looked at the clock, I knew that I should be at my fitness studio with our wonderful charizYa Fitness family.  I would have much rather been there and truly hated that I couldn’t be. Around 11:00am, Milton’s dad and two of his father’s friends came up to visit.  His father has always been very supportive and it was great to have them visit.  Toward the end of their visit, the nurses came in and said they were going to move to another room.  My current room was actually very nice.  It’s the room used when someone delivers so it was very spacious with nice amenities.  I thought the move would be a good thing since I’d been sleeping the past three nights on the delivery bed.  Milton packed all of our things and I was pushed in a wheelchair down the hall.  We passed all of these other nice rooms and then entered a new hallway.  Right before we entered, the nurse said, its a small room.  THAT WAS AN UNDERSTATEMENT.

She wheeled me into the smallest liveable space I have ever seen.  As I sat in the bed, if I stretched out both arms, I could reach both walls.  The window opened up to brick wall.  Milton’s family didn’t even want to walk into the room (probably because they couldn’t fit).  I felt as if they were locking me in a closet.  I started to cry.  I told Milton I couldn’t stay there.  I rolled over, pulled the cover over my head, closed my eyes and cried some more. Milton went and got the nurse and asked if I could be moved to another room. They walked around with him to look for a different room. Fortunately I was moved to a slightly larger room with a much better view.  As soon as I saw it, I felt more at ease.

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