It’s tolerance and charity, too. I am not an extrovert. I am so opposite to an extrovert that I would probably have a social circle of about three people, given my natural ultra-introvert tendencies. Living int he hospital is a great challenge for me. I am constantly annoyed and even a little frightened by what people do and say. People in the hospital environemnt will ask anything, tell anything, act in ways that they probably wouldn’t in the mall or airport. (But I’m not sure about that.) I have had to set some boundaries, most of which seems to involve leaving notes for people to please pick up after themselves, close the window when they leave the lounge, do up their dirty dishes in the hostel sink. This is pretty bold for me, since I usually put up with such behaviours or do the work myself. It takes a lot for me to step up and say, “That’s enough.”
I’ve had to say it to my husband as he recovers from this stroke. He comes up with outrageous ideas of what I’ve been doing, what is going on in the hospital, and my conclusion is that he has dreamed things and then thinks they are real. Well, he can’t spend the rest of his life doing that. I am refusing to accept that he will have a cognitive disability, and end up one of those people who can’t leave their house because they think everyone is against them, or that the town they live in is 1933 Chicago. I’ve called him on it, and he recognizes that he is not always right. It’s a big step.