As you can see, I am now beginning a new blog, this one in Huntington Beach since a local Vietnamese barber complained about my blog be about Huntington Beach and not San Diego.   In my last blog I wrote about an ear problem that may have turned into something bigger. No doubt nothing would have happened if not for me getting some paper work at the Huntington Memorial Hospital in Huntington Beach. 
 Since I am pretty good at putting two and two together, I looked again at what a nurse had provided me at the Huntington Park Hospital off of Beach Blvd . She did me a favor and brought me the forms as to what the doctors arrived at with my brother Mel's condition. I read the forms and one in the back alarmed me the most -- especially as Dr. Do had me also exam Mel's ear at his office in Fountain Valley.
    Well Mel began to walk and eat after a few days at the Sea Cliff Health Center. The social worker wished to speak with me a couple of weeks after he had been brought in as dead weight.
    "Mel is walking now, so he is ready to leave and return to the Royal Pacific Assistant living center now."
     "Hold your horses. Don't you think it wise to wait until we find the results of Dr. Do first. Let me take a shuttle with him to his office."
      Reluctantly, she agreed and made the date to have Dr. Do look at his ear a second time. He looked alarm at the infection inside Mel's ear. He seemed alarmed and he gave me a package to take back to the Sea Cliff Health Center.
       I felt scared, in fact petrified inside the health center. Mel was holding his head and wished to know if I had returned with a hamburger and tangerines. Inside bed two lay an 84 year old Vietnamese man who had suffered a stroke. The nine daughters and his wife doted on him as if he was a new-born babe, taking turns to feed and clothe him. The food at the nursing home is not too bad but is not tailored to the taste of the Vietnamese.
       "We mad, we took him to Huntington Hospital and they threw us out telling us that 'He's an old man, what we can do for him?...We return him home and he had his stroke...I paid  my way to get here and now look..."
         Mel too was not happy with the food. Mel is strictly a meat and salad man, two items at the Royal Pacific that are never on his plate. I helped Mel to his feet, his diaper was half off and he felt hungry.
        'Don't hit me so hard, I felt a bump on the side of his head and he fussed about how bad the head ache was. "My teeth are killing me. Can't they do something." I helped him eat the food. Of course he hated vegetables. He barely ate and quipped, "I wish to give up, the pain in that bad.
      I returned to my apartment at the Five Points Senior Center and took a look again at the  four papers I had received from a nurse at the Huntington Hospital. The last form had something written on it that disturbed me: his pain had not gone away, he had a new lump below his ear, and more stiffness on his head an neck.
      I had to get a grip on myself. The next day I went to the nursing station  and suggested to a David that he just might have cancer. He was waiting for a Dr. Gray to set up an operation day for Mel he told me.
      "I can't tolerate his pain anymore. Is there something you can give him."
       "We will give him more aspirin. I will tell the nurse."
Friday evening of the 21st of October, the same head nurse David told me that "He did in fact have brain cancer." 
Nobody knew that I was a witness to the biggest mistake an assistant living center could make. A Dr. Jennings had proscribed ear drops and ordered Mel to see a dermatologist. But since Mel has severe depression, i could see why he would not go.
    Even back in February at the Fountain Valley hospital, they treated him for the pussy ear. I never gave it a second thought that it would turn into cancer...but my won experience with skin cancer warned me to be vigilant with this infection.
    Most assuredly, if Mel's ear infection had been treated early on, none of this could have happened. The social worker has told Mel that he will be leaving on the 27th of October and back to the Royal Spartan Assistant living  center. She told me to write a few changes they should have in order for Mel  no to go through this catastrophe again.
    1. Somebody should feed him and lead him  down to the dining area.
    2.  A driver should take him to his eye doctor for shots in the pupil.
    3. An appointment should be made with Braille in Anaheim to provide him with a device to make seeing easier.
    4. Mel's food must be tailored to meet his needs. He loves salads and meats.
    5. At the end of each month, a sheet with these benchmarks should be given to his brother to made sure that the Assistant Living Center has met these new objectives. (Not finished or edited.)
   
   


     
         

"My husband told me that he could have fried an egg on top of his car yesterday in Long Beach.  Today is is supposed to be 94 in Huntington Beach. Do you wish a bag? "
   "Why thank you. I only came in because your bananas are only 19 cents each and I needed a dozen eggs. In my will I told my daughter to have me embalmed here at Trader Joe's. It is the coldest store this side of Alaska. Thank you..ah Maggie." (She wore a name plate.)
    I had spent a sleepless night across the street at the Five Points Apartments. They finally got around to cleaning the outside air generator and placed a new screen on my back bedroom. Of course with the high cost of electricity who wants to use the air.  I hoped that the air had been turned on upstairs in the library -- but no such luck. Everywhere I turned the heat got to me.
    And to think that few homes in Huntington Beach have air conditioning. The people here still live in the Bronze Age, long before the age of Global Warming Age. . Why they even built the library here with windows everywhere. In the afternoon, the temps inside  hover around eighty on the top floors.. I even need to use sun screen inside.
   But lets leave the negative and get out of the heat -- or try to. Even the Rodger's Senior Center does not provide air conditioning. Today I will be remove myself from their lunch program and stay here till I go to Whole Foods later in the day.
   And speaking of the Senior Center, I sure enjoy playing the piano and socializing a bit. Most of those who partake in the lunch program are like Margie. She avails herself every Thursday to play Bridge here. Let's tune into our conversation yesterday.
     "Hey Margie, the other day I got creamed at the I HOP. There was a scrabble tournament and  I just don't how they came up with all them words with 'Q's or 'X's. Bet you can't spell the letter 'Q'?
      Now I should have known better since she was working a cross-word puzzle.
      "Bet I can. It is 'queue'. And it also means standing in line..."
       Well I wished to know more about Mildred, somewhere in her eighties, the median age at the Rodger's Senior Center. And by and by, she used her own feet to walk.
       "May I ask what you did for a living? Did you drive a tow truck?"
       "I was a house wife for thirty five years until my husband Franklin died. His pension ran out so I worked as a secretary for an accounting firm. We had a good marriage since he allowed me to play bridge three times a week....Got to go now, my bridge club is waiting.
 That exchange occurred yesterday when Huntington Beach singed to 88 degrees. I have never seen one so calm as Mildred. I wonder if anything fazes her except finding a word for her cross-word puzzle.
So keep cool and relax since summer time in Southern California is all year-round.

Widow's Walk Huntington Beach

My second month in Huntington Beach, or Surf City, is almost completed. Oh excuse me, a lady just walked into my senior apartment building. She looks as if she might need help.
    "Welcome to the Sunny Side Senior Apartments. You seem lost." The little old lady is lost. Her daughter had just dropped her off in front of the apartments. She is caned and small. Her steps are cautious. Her apartment lies on Florida Street, which I call Widow's Walk. 
     "I am a first-time-widow and I am lost. What do I do?"
     "Well mam, you have come to the right place. There is a lot that you can do."
      "Do you know where the third floor is?"
      'Let me walk you to the elevator. This is your room."
      "Thank you so much. I am having a bad day in this heat."
   Mildred is not alone. Widow's Walk is home to the canes, walkers, wheel chairs. Most our women who have lost the loves of their lives...,or so they thought when they got married. Many had been married for over forty years. These apartments, like others on Widows Walk, have an abundance of white-haired ladies who just don't know what to do with their lives ever since Barney went to the other world.
    A few in my building have caretakers who take them out for a stroll. Those with less means sit outside in their wheel chair and enjoy the scenery. The older we get, the more we learn to enjoy the sights and sounds of life.
    Widows Walk is actually Florida Street, just off of Main and across from the Trader Joe"s Shopping Center. That is George getting into his beat-up old Chevy. So who am I? I am the engineer for the building and know most of the people. But I am busy today as the front fountain has sprung leak.
    'Hey George, stop the car for a moment! I am busy so can you take these sightseers on a drive through Surf City. They are seniors and wish to maximize their enjoyment."
    "No sweat Carlos. Be just obliged to take them around today." Three new to Surf City climb into my old car. Two sit in the back and I remind them to put on their seat belts. My first stop is Wal-Mart. Inside the can shop or just drink coffee and have a cheap McDonald's breakfast...I order their pancakes and coffee, total of four dollars and change...I no longer buy their bacon ever since the Farmer John's had all fat inside the package.
    I put their groceries inside the trunk and we are off to the new Huntington Library. It opens at nine most days, except Monday and Sundays when it is closed do to the Sabbath. Inside there is a children's section and a special room where you can buy cheap books for fifty cents or a bit more I enjoy the Mac 7 where I do most of my blogging and written work. Upstairs I read the local papers as well as my favorite, the New York Times. A microfiche machine allows me to read the paper from way back in the early nineties. There is a section for new books also.
   Down below is a coffee shop where cookies and sandwiches can be bought . A beautiful view can be had while you enjoy the water fountain. It can get hot in the afternoon like today, another heat wave day.
 I then take them to the Rodgers Senior Center. If short with change, the Center provides a free lunch and a piano player-of course tips gladly accepted since I am the musician. Today it is Taco Day and I say hello to two of my friends Alphonso and Eleanor ...I played a few numbers on their $5000 dollar grand piano and had lunch. The old timers enjoy music, and why not, it removes the drudgery of the day and takes them back to a time they can relate to. Rodgers also had a singing group, bridge and even one that teaches the Uke.
   By now you know what old timers need to do in Surf City. Get out there and mix it up a bit. Never be a couch potato.