Episode 115: The overnight aide we hired for my dad built him a wheelchair ramp in one night and I did not crawl under it until the spring
Submitted by Shell — Erie, Pennsylvania. 52. My dad fell in his kitchen the Sunday after Easter, and by June he was home again on Wayne Street with a walker, a bad hip, and a physical therapist named Priya who came Mondays and Thursdays and told him he was ahead of schedule. He was eighty-one. He could get from his recliner to the bathroom by himself, slowly, counting out loud. What he couldn't do was nights. He'd wake up confused around two and try the stairs. So I called an agency off a flyer at his church, and they sent Lonnie, ten at night to eight in the morning, twenty-six dollars an…
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