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!