(For the month of August, I will be posting something every single day that, hopefully, betters my life. Or enriches my experience. Or something new. Or something exciting. And I hope that all of you, my friends, join me on this ride.)
Today is the last day I spend with the patient I’ve had for the last two and a half months. I was his primary rehabilitation assistant his entire stay at my company’s apartments, so we spent more than ample time together. These last few months have been frustrating, hilarious, dangerous, infuriating, difficult, and enriching, to say the least. He’s going home a different person. So am I.
Last night, I took him to a baseball game at the local ballpark. The experience was a microcosm of my days with him. Between cracking inappropriate jokes directed at other patients and freaking out because I referred to his hot dog wiener as, well, a wiener, he spent time arguing with me about the minutiae of the experience and laughing his ass off.
Two and a half months ago, I could never have said that I was going to miss him. But I am. At 11:30 tonight, I’m probably going to be feeling more than a little maudlin. And knowing him, he’s probably going to call me a “dildohead” or a “prick” or a “fucking retard” and scream at me to leave the room at around 11:25. That’s probably the most apropos way to spend our last evening together, too.