Five months, twenty one weeks, Thursdays and Fridays.
Every Thursday and Friday morning for five months i spoke louder than what i was used to so that you would know it was time to start your day. Every Thursday, buckled your shoes because you couldn't, every Thursday made your breakfast, raisin bread with butter and one or two slices of salami or sometimes cheese depending on how much we had cut up in twelve, sometimes sixteen little pieces and a coffee with milk no sugar. Every Thursday ate my cracker or drank my orange juice while we waited for you to come eat. Half an hour more or less thats how long we waited. You would sit in that blue chair and we'd assist you in putting the safety tray in place. Talking was difficult when you couldn't properly hear what we said or asked, again i would have to raise my voice louder than i had ever been used to because i have always been quiet but for you I would try. Every Thursday we'd serve lunch again raisin bread with butter and one or two slices of salami or sometimes cheese depending on what we had cut up in twelve, sometimes sixteen little pieces. Speaking loudly to remind you to drink your juice. Every Thursday cleaning the dishes whilst you looked or listened to the tv. Every Thursday sending you to bed before my shift ended at three.
Every Friday the same routine as Thursday but adding a morning shower, helping you get into the showerchair, unbuckling your shoes and helping you take off your clothes. Lathering you up and rinsing off, never shaving you because i was afraid to cut you. Every Friday cleaning up the used washcloths while you walked to your bed. Every Friday helping you get dressed "take two steps forward" i would say louder than i am used to so that you could understand. Every Friday pulling your pants up and your shirt down after you took your two steps. Every Friday pulling up your socks and buckling your shoes and handing you a handkerchief. Waiting to give you breakfast, serving you lunch, sending you to bed and finally leaving at three.
And then Thursday..
I wasn't feeling the best so when you insisted to shower that day I wasn't patient but i did it anyway. I worked fairly rushed even though i had enough time, I wasn't patient getting you dressed, at lunch time a colleague made you an egg salad sandwich which you didn't want, instead of making you raisin bread with butter with salami or cheese, another colleague gave you a cut up banana, you did eat that. I reminded you to drink your juice and you did without protest, i sent you to bed and you came back and sat in your blue chair. I left. The next day i would hear that you went horse riding in the afternoon. And went to bed without any issues.
And Friday...
I open the door to your room, speaking loudly to wake you and getting no reaction, but it was okay it was your day off you were allowed to sleep in. Continuing my job serving others their breakfast. 10:30. Trying to wake you again, speaking loudly, shaking your sleeping body still no response or movement. I run to my colleagues confused at what I should do, one walks back with me and asks "is he breathing?" Yes you are breathing but not responding. She sees the marbling on your legs and right hand before i do and asks me to get our other colleague. I run, no thoughts. Back in the room the first colleague says to call emergency services so the other does and i stand there. They take your temperature and blood pressure and emergency services arrive doing their own checks, finally the lady says "he's in his last stages, the marbling means his blood circulation isn't right.." i know she says more but I can't concentrate on her words. The doctor comes and checks himself "call his family it shouldn't be long now." He gives ten milligrams of morphine. Emergency services asks us if we are okay, i nod. They leave, its me and one colleague, she says something I'm not sure what and leaves. Now it's just me and you, you're still moving, you push your leg off the bed and i help put it back next to the other i don't remember if i said something, I'm too busy looking at your chest to make sure you're breathing then i look to my phone as a distraction. Your family arrives and I leave the room. In the jack and jill bathroom i help another client use the toilet and we're laughing, im joking about something to keep the client distracted from everything happening, or maybe to distract myself. My colleague opens the door and says something, again im not paying attention but I assume she asks us to be quiet and close the door when we leave and so i do that. I'm not sure what happened next but i see a family member walk outside and another colleague arrives he's there for a meeting and we walk outside together after i inform him of the day's events, the family member explains that you have passed. And i understand now what my colleague had said. I give my condolences and I follow my colleague to your room to condole your brother. And you are there on the bed, unmoving, so very still and almost a purple color. I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. Quiet, just complete quiet. I leave and the colleague that just got there breaks the news to the other clients and the one i helped to the toilet is wailing after getting the news. And i stare not exactly sure what to do. I sit there and eat the cherries I brought remembering i had them. The client asks me to take her on a walk. I push her wheelchair to where the horses are and tell her how you loved horses and she agrees, we all knew you loved horses, their pictures are everywhere in your room. We walk back to the house and I'm told that they are giving you your last care, and i am instantly regretting that walk because i should be doing that, i should be getting you cleaned and dressed like all past Fridays. But I understand. Time is once again a blur. And then they tell us we can go see you. We walk into the room and the woman with me is crying and i just put my hand on yours. You are no longer purple but now a pale yellow-ish white. You're in a dress shirt, it's the first time i see you in one, I always dress you in pajamas on Thursdays and Fridays. I leave the room I couldn't even speak a word to you. Time is a blur i know i serve lunch and avoid looking at your blue chair. I know my heart is shattering everytime i say another client's name, because you have the same name. I know it shatters me when i clean up and there's one plate less. Stillness and numbness is all i keep pushing forward, refusing to cry when others need me to be strong. My colleagues praise me for how well I worked during the situation and ask me questions about the morning to see if I missed anything, I didn't i tell them everything again then pack my belongings and say goodbye. I leave and think "goodbye.." as i walk away i put on my headphones and my song starts with "When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire.." and it reminds me that you're meant to be cremated. I sit at the tram stop and i think somewhere someone had a baby and it was given your name, somewhere a baby took it's first breath at 11.44 exactly when you took your last. The rest of the day isn't important, I cried twice telling my parents about you and then I cried all trough the night because I realized.. I will never speak loudly to wake you up again, I will never clean and dress you again, I will never buckle your shoes again, I will never have you ask me for a handkerchief, I will never wait for you to sit in your blue chair so i can put the safety tray on, I will never make you raisin bread with butter and one or two slices of salami or sometimes cheese depending on what we had cut up in twelve, sometimes sixteen little pieces and a coffee with milk no sugar. I will never serve you lunch or send you to bed before I leave again. I don't know how I'm going to look at that blue chair again next time i work. I don't know how I'll look at thw door with the black leaf print decal or the jack and jill bathroom that connects to your room. I don't know how I'll look at raisin bread again.. I don't know anything other than the fact that you are not in any pain. You are gone and im still here, and somehow i have to continue knowing that you are not there, in that room or in the blue chair. I am glad your last day ended with your favorite activity and that i got to see you, i am sorry I wasn't patient with you, i am grateful i met you even if it was just for a little while. The last day i would see you, is the last day of June..I'm not sure what to make of that yet.
Five months, twenty one weeks, Thursdays and Fridays.
