All I want for Christmas

Yes, it's a song, but it's chorus resounds in the Hotel.

On the floor, all most of our folks want is to go home for Christmas. As nice as it is in the Hotel with all the volunteers and goodies and Santa (we even offer some shopping), most people want to go home for Christmas.

The folks who have no one, or no real home that looks like Currier and Ives, however, want to stay with us. Someone to take care of you is a happy holiday for them.

Some folks want a diagnosis for an illness that just cropped up. One minute, you're healing up. The next, you're sick, sick, sick and no one seems to know why even after multiple consults.

My office mate and I are still awaiting things to do our job, namely window blinds. That HIPAA assuring privacy thing really is a big deal, Mr./Ms. Hospital Interior Design person. We cannot do all of our jobs without it. So we rearrange, we encroach, and we crash in other areas. This makes for some other unhappy coworkers, but we manage. 'Tis the price of improvement and remodeling the Hotel, we say.

However, my relative is asking for something big: an accessible neighborhood. One in which you can ambulate by walking, your walker or your electric wheelchair, without fear of being hit by cars on a busy street. And since it's not far from the Hotel, it matters to us, too.

The social media campaign began yesterday. The news story airs tonight.

It's a big Christmas wish, but one that really should come true. Somebody's life may depend on it.

Stay tuned...

Almost home

The office mate is at a conference. His/her previous office mates dropped off the rest of his/her stuff yesterday. Why people don't move EVERYTHING when they move is beyond me. I'm just surprised they haven't asked to change the locks yet.

We are still in a fishbowl with no window coverings (blinds, etc.) which means no patients in our treatment area. One of these days our interior design staff will get a clue.

I'm hoping that clue comes special delivery today.

The patients that pass do like coming in to look around. Most folks in wheelchairs can do a 360 in the space in front of our desks, which is nice.

It's nice to be almost home.