A Day in the Life of Peanuts
You can find Mr. and Mrs. P nestled in the second unit of three two-story condominiums, with palm trees and bougainvillea adorning the yard. Upstairs, if you look out the front window, you would be blessed with a view of a large Poinciana tree with flaming orange petals when in bloom, and if you looked out the back, over the balcony, the turquoise waters beckoned you in the distance. Mr. P is found staring at the four corners of his cozy bedroom, the television, or the door. His eyes slowly turned towards the creak as he anticipated the face that would walk through that morning, as privacy was something he and his loving wife had given up out of necessity. “Good morning, Mr. P”, the nurse said. He gave her a smile as if he missed her. “Hello”, he said in a deep raspy voice. Some days, she would only get a nod of the head or nothing at all.
The morning routine began at 9am with the making of the bed by Mrs. P and the nurse. There he laid as they meticulously mitered the bed corners and tucked and folded over and under him, carefully avoiding his wounded toe. After months of physiotherapy, he could finally raise his left leg enough for them to get the pillow underneath. He tried to assist when he could, even if it was raising his head for them to adjust the pillow- it seemed insignificant to some, but that act alone was a great achievement.
“I’m going to start your eye drops now okay Mr. P”, the nurse said. He nodded in agreement, sometimes she did not risk asking permission as he may refuse care, interfering with the flow of the day. One cannot blame him as he was 88 years old whose talent as a drummer took him globally and made him a Bahamian icon. Now, the hands that once beat bongos rhythmically couldn’t hold a spoon to feed himself.
He must wait and rely on the care of those around him for full assistance with activities of daily living. Refusing care seemed like an act of a rebellious old man or it could be the only bit of control a tired old soul had left in his life. If he did not want to brush his teeth, he had all right to angrily bite down on that toothbrush. Nevertheless, he allowed the nurse to brush his teeth, but did angrily bite down on the straw when she offered his go-to drink, orange colored Pedialyte. It was a necessity to sustain him regarding nutrients and fluid intake, but sometimes he just did not want to drink or eat. He murmured something under his breath and the nurse knew he was not in the mood. “Okay Mr. P”, she placed the cup on the bedside table, “I won’t bother you for a while. I’ll let you get some rest okay.” This seemed to quell his agitation as he closed his eyes and turned his head away from her. A full night of rest was always a struggle, between chronic pain, unstable blood sugar, diaper changes, or even anxiety- a daytime nap could be even harder to achieve. The nurse sat quietly in the transport chair as she watched him and the clock. It was almost noon and he refused breakfast earlier and that was no good for a diabetic. She did not want to disturb him but maintaining his blood sugar was more important than his nap. He dozed off quickly but at times was stirred easily by the faintest sound. The nurse used this to her advantage and awoken him indirectly with the chair knocking on the wall.
His eyes flew open in her direction. “Hi Mr. P”, she said. “You must be hungry. Ready for something to eat?”
“Yes”, he said with a smile. “I like you.” She reciprocated his affection as she understood how sweet he could be and not to take his moments of agitation to heart. She fed him a Wendy’s breakfast of eggs, sausage, and waffle fries. This was a treat from his wife as she wanted to reintroduce some of his favorite foods to create a sense of normalcy after months of soups and liquids. His day was a group effort of physiotherapy, medications, checking vital signs, and personal hygiene. It was almost six o’ clock and the nurse prepared to leave when she asked him “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know”, he said with a smile. It broke her heart each time to ask as well as to hear the answer. How okay could he be when his life had changed drastically- a free spirit now confined to bed.