20/20 vision intact.........................

If you count the corrective lenses that is. Went to the eye doctor yesterday, and my vision has not changed over the last two years. This is a good thing when you are getting up there in years as I am. JK! I am sure I have a week or two to live yet.

I have been going to this eye doctor for seventeen years, so you might say I have become friends with he and his staff. Going for a visit is like going back to your hometown and having to catch everyone up on the latest happening in your life, as well as hear all about theirs.

I am not sure why (and I didn't realize it until I got in the office), but I was weepy for some reason yesterday. As we were going through the exam, we got on the subject of kids, and that turned to us sharing some of the moments that we felt terrible about (his was a time when he felt his son should have been more aggressive on the field and he didn't talk to him all the way home. Mine was the story of when I was so broke I could only afford one gallon of milk for the kids for the week) and that our children don't even remember. I always cry when I think of that time in my life and this day was no exception.

So, I go back to the waiting room to give my eyes time to dilate and to pass the time I start reading the book I had with me. The title of the book is: Last Rites, Rescuing the end of life from the medical system, and is about dying in today's society. I start reading this (made up) story about one fella who is at the end of a battle with cancer. His best friend from work had been struggling with how to handle everything, afraid to visit, afraid not to. One evening he goes to the guy's house and they end up watching a Celtic's game. The guy shares that one of his life regrets is he never got to see his team play in person. The friend arranges this "last wish" type of surprise and takes his buddy to a game with floor seats, meeting the team, the whole shebang. What a great memory for both of them.

Are you crying? That is a very condensed version of what I was reading, but I was sitting there in the waiting room crying, almost blubbering out loud, it is so touching me. Like I said, this group of people are like family to me. The receptionist simply brought me a box of tissues and let me have my moment. The eye doctor simply reassured me that "No! I had not cried all of the chemicals out and he would be able to finish my exam just fine and then did just that.

Changing subjects, I has a second interview for an additional resident yesterday. Very sweet woman, 94 years old and in really excellent health considering her age. Of course, she would prefer to live in her own apartment (a recent fall is what has sent the family down this road to assisted living) but she figured that our place could end up being the second best thing.

I has talked with the sons and showed them around the day before, and yesterday the son was sharing D/C papers from the hospital with me. I noticed a couple of names written on the paper of other AFCs and I started to go into my spiel about what I knew of the places (had done therapy services at both. I try and get people to visit several places so they have reference points to work off from when considering our home) and one of the son's stopped me in mid-sentence to say, 'Well to be honest, we didn't even consider looking anyplace else after visiting with you yesterday." I was extremely honored by this and told the family so. Do I think this was said because I am so special? Well, maybe a little, but mostly I think it was because of what they observed when they were here the previous day.

I am sure they noticed a cobweb or two, and for sure that the glass shower needed to be cleaned (I finally broke down and bought one of those new gadgets that is suppose to do the work for you but (my) Mister hasn't had time to install it yet. After I showed them around, the phone rang and I left then to chat and check out the family pics on the walls while I talked with another resident' family member. The dogs barked, the cat wandered in, the country music station was on in one room, the TV in another. It was evident that they were in a real home and not a sterile, medically oriented, commercially fabricated place. Seems they liked the way this felt. I believe the homey atmosphere, cobwebs and all, is what really makes our place stand out from the rest. Maybe my skills and sense of humor (not to mention my good looks and charm) help to round out the total package. One can only hope!