Moving on!

My new apartment!

If you follow me on facebook, you may have just heard my BIG news: today I picked up keys and in two weeks I’ll be moving out of the nursing home and into my own apartment! It’s an apartment designed to be accessible to wheelchairs, in an otherwise ordinary complex near the neighborhood where I used to live. I’m arranging for paid caregivers to come in 16 hours each day, plus I will have visiting nurses and other professionals as needed – interdependence at its best 😊

There are so many logistics and other challenges to pulling this off, which I’ll write more about later. There are also plenty of things that terrify me about making this jump - my wise therapist suggested that my anxiety is just doing its job, helping me see multiple sides of the picture (nice job, anxiety!). But there are so, so, so many things that I’m excited about, and I thought I would share some of them here.

Photo by Anastasiia Chepinska on Unsplash

COFFEE! I haven’t had a good cup of coffee in a good mug for two years. ‘Nuf said.

Photo by Kevin McCutcheon on Unsplash

Avocados. Hummus. Spicy food. Sharp cheese. Any cheese that isn’t processed. Sourdough bread. Salads without iceberg lettuce. Black bean soup. Asparagus. Mushrooms. Pizza. Salmon. Steak. Any food you cut with a knife. Appetizers. Cheesecake. Smoothies. Going to a restaurant. Shopping at a grocery store. Choosing what I want to eat. Choosing when I want to eat it. Choosing where I want to eat it.

Photo by chris robert on Unsplash

Some of you will remember when I used to volunteer to go accreditation visits and would post on Facebook that I missed Iliff women. Others will know the stress and exhaustion of all the years that I worked at ATS and had to act “neutral” in my beliefs and commitments. It’s not quite the same here as it was when I was working out in the world of (conservative) theological education. But it is also not that different. I have become quite fond of many of my elder co-residents, but none of them share my experiences, worldview, commitments, openness to learning, or news media sources. I feel like I’ll be able to breathe better (and maybe even heal better) when I can surround myself with more people who support, agree, work with, and challenge me.

Photo by Kyle Glenn on Unsplash

Privacy. I have had no privacy, at all, for the last two years. People can (and do) walk into my room anytime of the day or night, without knocking. Even if my door is closed with a bright Post-it note saying “telehealth session in progress,” people come in. Even my body has had no privacy here. In my own apartment, with my own caregivers, I will be able to set the rules, or rather, I will be able to design the space. I will also have eight hours a day without them – four in the middle of the night, four in the middle of the afternoon. I’m excited to see what those hours feel like and look like.

Photo by Haley Lawrence on Unsplash

Speaking of designing my own space, living independently will allow me to take my medicine on my schedule. Working with paid caregivers in my own home means I will get my cares on my own schedule. My long-term care facility has been better than most, but like most in healthcare, it struggles with staffing. Mine has also been a for-profit institution, meaning “They” like to cut and stretch to lower costs (and maximize profit) wherever they can, which means too many residents for too few nurses. I can’t solve healthcare in the United States, but I can get better care for myself for a while.

Omaha! Because of the way maps are drawn and the way that budgets are divided, the paratransit service that supports me here in the suburb/town of Papillion does not connect to the city of Omaha. Once I move, I will have access to Omaha’s MOBY ADA para transit system, which means I can go anywhere in the city. Concerts. Museums. Parks. Movies. Restaurants. Breweries (even though I can’t drink anymore). Maybe even school events, because…

These two little/big guys be less than 2 miles away.

I’ll post more soon about the logistics and challenges that I’m working out in order to pull this off, and (as requested by some of you) some ideas of ways that you all, as my community of care, can help me in the midst of this transition. But for now, please just celebrate with me this exciting (if also terrifying) experiment!