Sleepless in the Nursing Home

The phone rang at 10:00 a.m. It was Romeo. He had asked one of the nursing staff to dial my home number. He wanted to talk with me.

"Hello?"

"Juliet, I couldn't sleep last night."

"What was wrong?"

"They put me in a very small bed. It was too small for me, and I was scrunched up and couldn't get comfortable. I didn't sleep all night."

I considered Romeo's complaint. Hmmm...all the beds are the same size, the standard twin. Romeo's information is incorrect, and he can't think things through to make sense of the fact that
the nursing home wouldn't have a bed smaller than a twin size. He can't think to recall that the bed he slept in last night is the same bed he's slept in since he moved there.

"Romeo," I said, "I'm sorry you weren't comfortable. Are you in bed now?"

"No, I'm in my wheelchair."

"Good. Are you comfortable?"

"Yes."

"Okay, that's good. Do you know what I'm wondering?"

"No."

"I wonder if last night you were scrunched up toward the bottom, toward the foot of your bed and that's why you weren't comfortable?"

"Oh, yes. Yes, that could be it."

"Yes, it might be what happened."

But Romeo is still in the habit of telling all of his complaints to me instead of the nursing staff, the people who are there with him and who can help him when he needs it.

I continued, "Romeo, whenever you need something or whenever you're uncomfortable, press your call button. When someone comes, tell them what's going on with you. They'll do whatever they can to make you comfortable."

"Oh, I see."

"So if you had pressed the call button last night when you couldn't sleep, someone would have come and helped you to get comfortable. You would have been able to sleep then."

"Oh, yes. Okay. I'll do that next time."

Will he? Will he remember?