LIVING IN A SNF IS NOT FOR SISSIES!

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Life in a SNF is not for Sissies!

I swear, I truly feel like I’m in lock-up!

I am granted numerous day passes

Where it’s entirely up to me

How long I choose to stay out!

Whatever I had done that day

Pales in comparison

With my inevitable return. back into my all-day nightmare

I’ve been told
I’m too self-absorbed
I should write about other things, other people
However, they don’t live here!
They don’t live in a SNF
Where there is so much rich material right outside my door?

I have been here a year, as of August 4th, 2013

I search in vain for a reason,

For my placement in this facility.

I am told by many different people,

Some with great wisdom in the ways

Of spirit and issues beyond our three dimensional world.

Without reservation, I am assured there is a purpose,

A reason, hidden perhaps, not entirely revealed yet,

It is my work to find out what the reason is!

My endless hours are spent wantonly,

Sitting in front of my computer

Doing nothing of any great value

Listening to the cries and wines

Of various other inmates

Verbalizing their pain, forgetfulness, anger, and despair

There are so many lost and injured souls

Parading up and down the halls

With nobody to take them out

Or to buy them a meal

Or to give them a massage,

There is the Flusher Man,

Stuffing paper towels down the toilet

Watching with demented glee as

The tainted water crests the bowl

And spills onto the floor.

There is the sleeping woman in wheelchair

Guarding the front door,

Or the androgynous individual

Who repetitively shouts fight, fight, fight.

Or the man who talks gibberish non-stop.

There is the almost daily visit to my room

By  a woman who neither knows who she is or where she’s going.

There is a small group of women

Who constantly attempt to make the Great Escape!

Everyone needs some love

But so many of these poor vacant beings

Get little or no love at all.

I have yet to find a satisfactory answer

To my question!

It is so true how transitory everything is
Nothing stays the same, everything fades away
I keep wondering when I will awake from this nightmare
Yet the nightmare continues
And I awaken to another day, just like the others

The nurses try in vain to attend to all the residents,
More then often, understaffed
The CNA’s, probably paid garbage, having to clean up shit
Wheelchairs set off alarms.
The Alarms, add yet another component
To the cacophony of sound
Ambient in character

Many residents come and go,
Many doing rehab, eventually returning to their homes

How the fuck did I wind up here?
I have a progressive degenerative illness,
It only gets worse
And yet, I know I don’t belong here

I sit in my room, looking out the window
at this beautiful blue sky, crisp Sunday morning
Wanting to write something positive, like the beauty
of Sonoma County, or what a wonderful day to be alive
However, I am so self obsessed, so caught in my own illusion of reality
Unable to practice any of these excellent teachings
All I can see is colored with a dark ominous tinge
I am incarcerated in this bughouse, no matter how many visitors,

 No matter that I can now take off on para-transit
no matter how lenient the powers that be

I am trapped!

Life in a SNF is not for sissies!

 

A

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