Goodbye Liz ( or in and out of my life go the people)
I don’t often write about life in a wheelchair. Number one… this chair doesn’t define me. Number two… and probably more strangely, I’m at a point where I’m really not all that bothered by it. Would I do almost anything to get out of it and have a whole functioning body again? Holy crap yes! But does it make me have a little sad panda face every morning? Not a chance.
But today, I do want to write about it, and I do have a little bit of a sad panda face.
Shelly doesn’t help me get ready for the day in the morning. Shelly doesn’t usually help me get in bed at night. I don’t want her to be my nurse. I want her to be my wife. I have a couple of people that help me do these things.
As you can imagine, having a person come into your home every morning, help you get a shower, help you shave your head (if you clipper it like me), and help you get dressed can be very personal, and if it’s not the right person, you might want to run them into a wall.
Well, since August of 2009 I have had the right person. Her name is Liz. She’s a little closer to my mom’s age than mine. It took her a crazy long time to understand my morning routine. She can be painfully shy. We don’t always talk much, but in time, she has turned out to be the best aide I have ever had. She is dependable, loyal, kind, and fast. (If I get up at 6:30, I want to be ready by 7:45). Shelly and the kids love her. And today she gave her two week notice.
She just walked in, helped me get ready, said, “I just want you to know that yesterday I gave Linda my two week notice. I got a job with Spectrum Health.”
I gave her as genuine a smile I could muster, and said, “Liz… that is so great!” Then I threw up in my mouth.
It is a great opportunity for her. She will get more hours and more money. But it is a big deal for me and Shelly. We have had aides who don’t show up and don’t call. The next day tell us that their boyfriend’s car caught on fire, and they couldn’t get to work. Three days later that same truck flipped into the ditch. A couple of days later their boyfriend’s friend got pulled over in the same truck and got a DUI. We had an aide who disappeared for four days, and showed up living in Atlanta. We’ve had 10 times more hospital visits and flat tires than a lifetime of employees could have possibly had. Each time, it means that I lie in bed until we find a replacement. Oh yeah, then there was the dude who stole two laptops and a digital camera. Cool, huh?
Anyhow, back to the drawing board.
Liz, you will be missed.
