on living in a senior living facility

Well, it's fine. I've lived in two now, am still living in the second. My caregivers took and take care of me kindly and politely and unobtrusively. They come in on whatever task or errand is at hand, take care of that, and leave. Oh they talk to me: tell me what we're up to, ask me how I am, sometimes tell me something funny, or a thought about the news. The latter is kind of wasted on me. I don't think I've listened to or watched the news since I got here.

So I'm comfortable, well taken of, mostly left alone (a big plus for me), and maintained.

What does maintained mean? They bring me my meds as the doctor ordered. (You may remember that I proved myself incapable of doing that and spent eleven days in the hospital getting my blood chemistry corrected and stabilized.). They clean and vacuum my room, clean and restock my bathroom, and help me shower. They remind me to go to my meals and will bring me my food if I ask. They do my laundry and bring it back folded. All I have to do is put it where it belongs. They make sure I converse with them. (I think that's healthy. I could sit up here for hours talking to no one. I do some nights. I'm not sure that's healthy.) It seems to me that they take just enough care of me that I'm free to do what I want. What a spoiled life!

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