Home Sweet Home

Penelope sat in her dark brown leather recliner pensively; she was only home from hospital a few days and was finding it hard to acclimate to her ‘new’ living situation. She had spent the last four months in hospital and, due to covid, she had been alone most of the time. Even though it was only early days, readjusting to home life was not as she had expected it to be.

Penelope, used to the hustle and bustle of hospital life, missed the noise of the cleaners, like fisherwomen, shouting in the corridor to each other. She missed the constant intrusion of nurses who had to ‘check’ once an hour that she was ok. She missed the sound of the other service users in the garden through the window in her room having a laugh with each other. She felt it strange not seeing her fellow service users wandering the halls, meeting them with surprise as she entered and exited the communal bathroom. She missed the smell of disinfectant that went hand in hand with a hospital, especially in covid times.

Now all she could hear was the birds singing and the neighbour’s dog barking on and off –a silence that felt alien to her. The only face she met around the small house was that of her mothers.

Penelope lived with her mother, an over controlling woman, who had spent most of the past four months down the country looking after her elderly mother. Although overjoyed to have her daughter home, Penelope felt as though her mother had brought some of the country life back with her and was subjecting her to it, whether consciously or not Penelope wasn’t sure.

There had been at least three occasions in the last four days where her mother chastised her like a child. This made Penelope feel as though she was small and helpless, something she tried hard to work on not feeling when she was in hospital. She felt as though she needed to apologise for whatever it was she was chastised for, bringing old habits back. She was far from a child, and it was unfair for her mother to treat her as one, but she couldn’t find her voice to say that.

It was the evenings Penelope found the hardest. Eating a meal with another person was very bizarre altogether. In hospital you had to eat alone at your own individual table maintaining a two-metre distance at all times. She found it strange watching tv with someone else in the room, something she had no choice over as, surprisingly, there was only one tv in the house. Penelope wanted nothing more than to retreat to her bedroom, where she had the opportunity to be alone, but her knee wouldn’t allow her to climb the stairs.

Penelope went home on the ‘homecare package,’ which basically meant that she had a nurse ‘check in’ with her over the phone once a day and she got to see her doctor every Wednesday. It was supposed to make the transition to homelife easier. She was grateful for this transition period as she was able to ring the ward she was affiliated to whenever a problem arose, something she was utilising when the feeling of being overwhelmed got too much.

Penelope looked around the sitting room as she sat in her recliner drinking in the once familiar room; the tall brown mantle piece; the big tv; the nest of wobbly tables made out of cheap wood; and pondered the question; 'am I truly ready for home life?' A question that only time would answer.