Tuesday is the day the cleaning staff does our apartment her at Azalea Trace. They do a magnificent job, week in and week out. I do some things to make their job easier each week. I clear all the kitchen counter tops, clear the bathroom counter tops and the shower of all items. I wash the sheets and towels and make the bed. I have this established routine that is now almost two years old. It works! Or, at least it did until today.
I did not mention that my Wife has her Leaders Meeting for Bible Study Fellowship on Tuesday morning, so I am alone in this routine.Today, I threw some odds and ends laundry in with the sheets, including the cargo shorts I was wearing. I took my belt off, my hanky out of my pants pocket, and my pocket knife out and placed all of that on the counter in our dressing area.
While I was on our land line talking with my best friend Jerry, I started to wonder where my cell phone was. After our call, I searched all of the usual places. Then I remembered the cargo shorts that were now in the dryer. You know, those 5.11 shorts have real good Velcro closures on the pockets! My cellphone was securely in one of those pockets.
It was dead. And so are my secret dreams of being independent. I know, you are saying, people wash their cellphones, wallets, electronic car keys, receipts and many other things not meant to be washed, all the time. Well, I don't and I never have! I have a set routine, a procedure, that I do things by. I run an mental checklist on every task. It comes from my Navy training and long time experience in Weapons!! You either do it right or die. Today, part of me died!
The cell phone is not important. The replacement was $50. and we were moved to a new plan that reduced our monthly bill over $30! But, I failed. My mental checklist failed. I lost a piece of my independence today and I lost my dream of being able to take care of myself.
In the Patric Stewart movie on Alzheimer's titled "Safe House", Stewart plays a retired secret agent with severe information on a presidential candidate. That candidate is trying to kill Stewart to silence him. The day he realizes he can no longer project himself, he breaks down and cries. Today was that day for me.
I once was a romping, stompin, Master Chief Gunner's Mate, riding Navy Combatant ships, firing rapid fire cannons, solely responsible for thousands of tons of explosives and the lives of the men who worked with me and the entire crew! My word was law, backed by by iron clad memory of procedures, safety procedures, and operating procedures. Now, I cannot remember to take my cell phone out of my pocket before I was he my shorts!
The LBD has been progressing and Linda and I knew it. Today was a big drop off in my mind. I failed a procedure and even though it was a small item, I can no longer trust myself or anyone else to my care.