Bed 2

No headache today! See, I know I'm an optimist because I'm ALWAYS looking for the positive.

Today, a funny little story about making assumptions. This morning we had a driver we've ridden with several times. He's extremely professional, very clean cab, very well groomed and polished. In short, a guy you like to see in your driveway.

This morning it was extremely cold. Last year on really cold days, I gave out some cheap pairs of "magic" gloves to some drivers. They were a tremendous hit. Generally, the drivers who got them were more "bread and butter" practical types. Not the sleek and well groomed persona of this morning's driver.

It was extremely cold by Houston standards (mid 30's). I told myself I'd at least offer a pair of gloves to my first driver on the really cold and miserable days. I handed him his candy, along with the gloves. He thanked me, then he kind of stared at the gloves for a minute. "They stretch." I told him. The driver said, Oh, that's how they work and tried them on.

Not only did he leave the gloves on throughout the whole trip, but he asked me where I bought them. I gave him "Directions" to the accessories department at Walmart and told him about how much they cost. He was still admiring them (and eating the candy) when he dropped us off. Silly me. I thought "A nicely tailored guy like that wouldn't be interested in these gloves.", but I was wrong, I'm happy I was wrong, and I'm getting more gloves tomorrow.

Our milkman was "late" by the other vendor's standards, but "On time" by ours. He said that if they keep complaining, we may end up on someone else's route. Ewwwww. He told me he doesn't want to give us up (meaning me and Ron). I thought that was very sweet and it's no problem for us to get the milk a half hour later. Ron and I are leaving them in God's hands.

We had a short day today, just work and home. The vending machines continue to look great. Ron accidentally stocked the pineapple soda into the $1.25 row and not the $1 row. I fixed that; we put 5 bottles out (along with 3 kinds of Crush) in "Food 1". I hope they sell; I want to provide a really nice selection of merchandise.

Ron just woke up and asked me about the mail. Nothing important to him but I got my PDR for Herbal Medicines! Yay! Just a word to anyone who may want to ship a hardback book through the mail: Don't put it in a bubble envelope. The envelope will tear. It did, but I bought a used book and I don't care about minor cosmetic issues. I'm really happy I got it, it's an excellent book. I might get some more copies for my doctors (Primary care and P-doc). Used, it was only $9 with shipping.

One nice thing about Metrolift - I can get good restaurant reviews. It's been my experience that Black people are very choosy about their food - they're pickier, in a really good way, than white people. I ate at a BBQ joint that had an excellent review; I found it pretty bland and so did Ron. A Metrolift driver wouldn't have eaten there or recommended it to anyone else.

When Ron found a "new" BBQ place a couple miles from the house, I was highly skeptical, but all the drivers love it. When Ron mentions the place, they practically lick their lips. The first thing they say is it's good. Then they mention the monster-sized chicken fried steaks. How delicious they are, and what a treat we can expect.

We're going tomorrow. I just need to make sure they don't use peanut oil, then I'll dive in.

I found my little photo book in my tote bag and it got me thinking about the photos. When Ron was hurt (almost 5 years ago) he had about the worst head injury a person can have (DIA - diffuse axional injury, where the brain actually twists and breaks all the connections). He was not expected to "have a good outcome". Obviously, God had other plans.

I didn't get to make any life-or-death decisions because we were only shacking up at the time. I told him it would happen that way if he ever got hurt, but he wasn't ready to commit. His father elected "heroic measures" - do anything to keep him going. Surgery, life support, you name it.

When people found out he was blind before the accident, I got treated pretty badly. How dare I let this poor man wander off into traffic! How dare the guy who hit him run a red light, I think now. By the way, I saw [the guy who hit Ron] again today. He's a nice guy. Really.

So, I felt like no one really knew Ron. It felt like they didn't want to know him. I kept getting asked if I was sure I wanted them to do everything - it made me scared to go home. I was exhausted, I'd been up for a day straight under the most stressful conditions imaginable. After I left, I went the wrong way. It took me about 3 hours to get home on the bus. I remember thinking I wish I could show them the Ron I love. I'm convinced God put this thought in my head, "Well, then, bring the pictures."

Every now and then, I'd go manic for photography (disposable cameras) and I'd take dozens of photos of Ron at work and play. I'd get two copies, give one set to his mom, and save the other set. When I got home, I selected about a dozen of my most favorite, and put the rest in a photo album. When I want back to the hospital ($40 cab ride, ouch!) I posted them everywhere. I put them on the headboard of his bed, the foot of his bed, and I had a great one of Ron grinning that I taped onto the vital signs display. You coudn't go to his bed without seeing a couple great photos of Ron. The nurses put the photo album at the note-taking stand at the foot of his bed.

Before, they'd referred to Ron as "Him" or "Bed 2". Everyone (medical) loved the photos and wanted to see the album. I'd explain "Ron riding a horse in Galveston" and "Ron checking the change banks on the vending machine". The social worker took them to a meeting of the ethics committee. I'm convinced those photos really were a turning point in his medical care - they made the staff see the man I loved and not just bed 2.