I’ll admit, I’m distrustful of practically everything new. It’s not a stereotypical ‘elderly person’ thing, at least not with me; I’ve been that way since I was a little girl. I remember when my father finally managed to save up enough to buy the family a fridge-freezer. Everyone was so enamoured, but I wouldn’t go near the thing. What if it leaked and filled the house with cold and we all froze? Don’t even get me started on televisions. What if they really enslaved tiny people and we were all just laughing at their plight? I couldn’t forgive myself, personally.
So when I heard the Melbourne news about hyperbaric therapy, you can bet your shillings that I swore to never let any of that hodge podge near me. My daughter is the opposite, somehow…so obsessed with the latest fads. Right now she’s hula-hooping for fitness. Ha, can you just imagine! Well, I’m not getting myself into that, because my hips aren’t built for that kind of silliness and never have been. But we did just get an actual oxygen chamber at the nursing home. That piqued my interest, because this place is usually very sensible. That’s why I insisted upon coming here after Harold died, even though Bethany offered me a place in the little granny flat in the garden. Meals at regular times, straight corridors, no stairs, rigid games schedule and oh, I’ve seen how they do their paperwork, and it made my heart sing. Such efficiency! I know the manager well, and he’s a no nonsense type. So for them to install an oxygen therapy chamber thing…well, i had to see for myself. Not that I’ve been in there myself, but I’ve heard rave reviews. I’ll still take some convincing, because perhaps people are just convincing themselves. It happens! But maybe all the buzz around Melbourne concerning this hyperbaric oxygen therapy MIGHT just have some truth. Hmm…to be decided!