Fixing Boo Boo: A story of traumatic brain injury by Stanford Pat

Author:Stanford, Pat [Stanford, Pat]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: DocUmeant Publishing
Published: 2019-07-28T16:00:00+00:00

I woke early, took a shower, packed up, and took everything out to the car. I went back inside for the hotel’s continental breakfast, included in the price of the stay, and I planned to get my money’s worth. I helped myself to eggs, French toast, and coffee. I went back for more eggs and added a bagel to my second round of coffee. I wouldn’t repeat going hungry for hours as I had the day before, and I hoped I would not still be in town at lunchtime. After clearing my table, I sipped coffee, enjoying a chance to relax and watch other people help themselves to the food.

I looked at my watch and decided to get going. Still too early for visitors at the hospital, I took a ride out to Barb’s old house to give my phone a chance to charge while driving out there.

The pictures the builder sent us didn’t do justice to the property transformation. It was nothing like the house Barb and Bill lived in. Gone was the huge tree that effectively hid the side yard. Also gone, the fence, gate, and wisteria that obliterated the view of everything the place had to offer.

The porch had been rescreened, and the siding was painted a fresh, light green with bright, white accents. The ramp built for Bill and his scooter disappeared off the front, and a small amount of gingerbread detail had been added to the peak of the roofline. A very charming and updated home resulted across from a popular lake.

Removing the two rusty sheds in the back allowed the home to have a backyard. The pole shed, cleaned out of the washer and dryer, lawnmowers Bill was always going to fix and resell, and piles of other junk they inherited from the previous owner, had been freshly painted to match the house and could now be used as a carport. The promise Bill made to the junk to make it new again had never been fulfilled, and it all went to a local thrift store.

The side yard, previously nothing more than a patch of weeds where Bill’s derelict sailboat sat for years, now sported fresh sod. A gravel drive going back to the new carport replaced the soft sand where Barb and Bill used to park the van and old Mercedes.

As I thought of taking a picture with my phone, it rang. I looked at the number, and it was one of Barb’s friends. Needing a little peace, I let it go to voicemail and headed back to town, assured the hospital would be open for visitors by the time I got there. I didn’t have intentions of staying a third night at a hotel knowing Barb was in good hands. I needed to discuss a few more details with her and get the ball rolling on a rehab facility with the caseworker before I left to go home.

I arrived at the hospital and parked my own car in a lot closer to the entrance instead of using the valet service, a reward for getting there early.

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