Saturdays with Seniors: Guest Post by Kathie Babcock

All five of the memoir-writing classes I lead in Chicago are cancelled while we shelter in place, but a number of students are braving the world of technology to continue writing — and meeting — on their own. writers in Wanda’s “Me, Myself and I” class enjoy the zoom memoir class they put together so much that they’ve added a second zoom meeting to their weekly schedule: happy hour on Fridays (alcohol not required, some drink tea!). A memoir-writing class I lead at The Admiral at the Lake (a senior living center on Chicago’s north side that also provides healthcare services at an adjacent facility called The Harbors) is requiring members to stay in their individual apartments/rooms to shelter at home now, and visitors are not allowed. Rather than gather in the dining room, residents get their meals delivered to their door by staff members who are covered in personal protective equipment.

Undaunted, memoir writers at The Admiral come up with their own weekly prompts and email completed essays to each other for comments and suggestions.

To honor my writers-in-exile, we’re starting a new “Saturdays with Seniors” feature — every weekend I’ll publish a new essay written by one of them. Today’s essay is by Kathie Babcock, a soft-spoken writer in the Admiral class whose piece is poignant, honest and reflective of the confusing times we are all going through.

Staying Home Away from Home

By Kathie Babcock, as told to Maya Lea

My world has become very, very small these days. A month ago I moved from my individual apartment to Room 965 on the Harbors rehab floor because my hip hurt and I was having trouble walking and standing. We made a grand procession: me in my wheelchair with an entourage of four, each carrying armloads of what I needed for what we thought would be a two-week stay.

Here’s to daffodils and tulips!

My daughter Shauna and our friend Maya helped me settle in with a few favorite photos and cards on the windowsills, a supply of coffee yogurt from my fridge, and — fortunately — my mechanical pencils and notepad for writing memoir essays!

Ever since then it’s been one disorienting thing after another. I moved into my room on a Wednesday and was looking forward to getting to know people on my floor, but they closed down the dining room and the PT gym a day or two later. Shauna and Maya came that Saturday, but then the next day we were suddenly confined to our own not-very-familiar, not-very-large-not-very-interesting rooms with no visitors allowed.

The following Saturday someone stuck a swab all the way up my nose — an experience I don’t recommend — and X-rayed my chest. It took six days to get my COVID-19 test results back, but they saw right away from the X-ray that I had pneumonia, even though I never had any symptoms. So I went on antibiotics. Until my coronavirus test came back negative I couldn’t have my daily PT sessions or any OT or speech therapy. either, so all I could do was watch TV and sleep.

Each day seemed pretty much the same and I really missed having places to go, people to see, and things to do!

Even though nobody is allowed to visit, Shauna has been able to deliver daffodils, tulips, Grape-Nuts, and more coffee yogurt to the front desk — staff members deliver them to my room to keep me going. She continues to call me every morning and evening, as she’s always done, and Maya calls me every afternoon, too.

Kim Kohler and Karen Clinton have been helping me do FaceTime video calls with Shauna and participate in Chorus rehearsals on Zoom, all of which I appreciate. (I have my laptop with me here but need Maya’s help to use it, so I haven’t been able to keep in touch with people on email, just over the phone). Sometimes I do the exercise classes on The Admiral’s TV channel, and I’m catching up on some old movies.

My favorite thing about “staying home away from home” is the food here. Unlike all of you, I’m getting three hot meals a day, delivered! This morning I had breakfast in bed: scrambled eggs and pancakes.

Not bad, huh? It is a little strange being awakened by someone in a space suit, but knowing that the staff is taking every precaution to keep us safe from the virus eases my mind.

I can see the Bird Garden three floors beneath my window here in Room 965. I’m looking forward to watching Spring unfold outside and to sharing stories with all of my fellow memoir writers in the coming weeks!