#SOL18 Day Twenty Seven
Four different patients inhabited Room 419 over the course of the 6 weeks that my mom called Room 420 home.
Three of them died.
The jury is still out on the fourth because we were discharged before knowing her fate. But, I can assure you that I had a very serious conversation with the son of #4.
“Stay on top of things here,” I warned. “I’m glad to see you here every day. It is imperative that the people here know you are involved in your mom’s care.”
I didn’t go so far as to tell him that the three previous residents of Room 419 were no longer on this earth. It was just so depressing.
All three of them occupied Room 419 for short time periods. I got to know the relatives of #1 and #2, which made it all the more heartbreaking. I saw the look of fear, confusion and all around sadness in their eyes at the beginning. I could recall that feeling in myself so well.
Number 3 was especially tragic because he/she didn’t have any visitors. Absolutely no family or friends ever managed to grace the door of Room 419. It’s true – I wasn’t sure if this patient was a man or woman. He/she sat cross-legged on their bed looking straight ahead at the T.V. whether it was on or off. Very large, dark sunglasses covered half their face while a sizeable machine that was plugged in nearby hummed white noise with every labored breath he/she took. Every single time I went to visit my mom #3 was in that same position…until one day they weren’t.
As I walked down the hall toward Room 420 on a cold December afternoon I saw a woman sitting outside of Room 419, her head hanging down. I could also see two policemen in the distance. I was worried about my mom until I realized what had happened. Room 419 lost another one.
I searched my mind…What is happening here? Is this a place where people come to die?
I left there feeling a strong sense of urgency to get my mom the hell out of there…before the curse of Room 419 crept next door.
carrieiswriting 
Carrie, this touched my soul on so many levels. So sad, so personal, so scary. I’ll say it again, your mom is blessed to have a daughter like you.
So scary. even though you know in your head it can’t be true, your heart can’t help but worry that there truly IS a curse on room 420 and it might impact your mom next door.
Such a sad story, especially about patient #3. I understand how you felt. I would have wanted to get my mom out of there, too.
Damn. I’ve got nothing. You’ve got so many crafty turns in this and none of them hold a candle to what is most important. How your writing about these things leaves your reader feeling changed in some way. Your words stick. Damn Room 419. Prayers for all who walk near or cross its threshold.
I can’t even imagine how you feel. I hope the curse of room 419 doesn’t seep its way towards your beloved mother.
This reality is painful and becomes so much a part of our lives as we age. Your writing gets right to the point and yet makes me linger in my thoughts about these tragic stories. I am thankful your mom left room 420 differently from the patients in room 419. Hope she is improving still.
Your instincts are good: get out, if you can, while you can! I felt so sorry for the patient who had no friends to visit. Some elderly people wind up without family and outlive their friends. [tears]
That room 419 stinks, glad you were able to keep your away!