Fun and Home

I had an outing yesterday and went to the Phoenix Art Museum. None of us had been there before. Every Wednesday from 3 to 9 p.m. entry is by donation. We were there a couple of hours, but you can spend a lot of time there and not see everything. They have a little gift shop and they even have a little cafe. We checked out the cafe but didn't go in because we didn't have enough time. We saw some really great paintings and sculptures; saw Monet, Georgia O'Keefe and Grandma Moses. The Firefly Room was some place you could spend hours in. It was so cool we didn't want to leave. We said the next time we go we're going to sneak in a bottle of wine and spend our time in the Firefly Room. They had some art that I considered real sculptures; and some that was "found object" art. I call it junk yard art. They had a clothing exhibit, which was temporary, and it runs through Christmas into the early part of January. Most of it was dresses from 1910 to current times. They had one section that was Japanese designers, and there were several groups of Japanese there checking it out. We may try going back around Christmas time. Some people, for whatever reason, didn't get to go; we have more people that want to go, and those of us who went want to go back.

A home is a home is a home!

Since I was in the hospital around my birthday in June I've been coming to terms with the fact that my health may not improve; that my body is failing, and that I can no longer say that I stay at a medical facility. Because I no longer stay, I live here. It may be unconventional but it is home, and probably always will be. I always suspected that I would end up in a facility, but did not expect to start this part of my journey while still in my late 40's. Since I am not married and have no children, it is logical that I would end up in a nursing home. I still hate that term "nursing home"; where I live it is called a medical and rehabilitation center. And that better fits this facility; there are a lot of people who are here strictly for rehab and get to go home, and then there are others who are not old, many younger than me, who live here. It may be a strange sort of family, but it is family none-the-less. Last week was the first time I actually told a complete stranger that I lived at a medical facility instead of saying that I was currently staying at a home. The lady that I told didn't flinch! What a relief! And yesterday, at our outing, people were polite but not overly attentive. The lady behind the counter of the gift shop even giggled when the respiratory therapist put a perfume pencil under my nose and insisted that I smell it. When I pointed out to the R.T. that people with trachs can't smell, she gasped and said "oh, I forgot!" The gal behind the counter found that amusing. Perish the thought but maybe this gal from Normal is more normal than she prefers to think she is. I guess we have evolved afterall.

Hope everyone has a terrific week! From my home to yours,

Love always, Darci

P.S. Boo to you! I am beginning to get in the spirit of Halloween, and am decorating my room - my home. The bears have masks on, and sock monkey is going "Hawaiian".

See you Thursday!!