I worked in the arts and crafts room, passing out adult coloring books, crayons, paints, construction paper, glue" Very different from the university classroom, but enjoyable, nonetheless. I was supposed to work only two hours every other day, but I ended up arriving at KAC almost every day and staying from the start of the day to the end of the day. It was all good, except for the fatigue. Then the numbers . My cancer's response to the hours at the Center, forced me to leave KAC by the end of the year.
Fast forward to this year, 2022. I live in one of the smaller senior complexes in the city. I never encountered anyone at KAC quite like the neighbor who recently moved into the apartment below me, and I believe I would never have volunteered at KAC.
On February 20, 2022E, a second bout with a low platelet count, Idiopathic Thrombocytopenic Purpura, ITPI, landed me in the hospital, receiving a blood transfusion and steroids. A few days later, I returned home to the woofer. All night, every night.
Since then, I've been asked by law enforcement how I knew he was a client of KAC, and I respond that a long-time resident of this independent senior living facility volunteered that information. It becomes common knowledge among some residents in the building who are familiar with each other, in most cases, since childhood. Most tenants, too, either have familial or former work connections with others and that includes, other residents of this small town who are clients of KAC.
But I know that when I see the tenant: I don't turn my back! I know that a night of hearing him tapping on his ceiling, outlining my figure from feet to head, tick, tick, reaching with a stick or a broom, once, then twice, then three timesI know. I know when I clean in the evening with Lysol and, ten minutes later, I can barely smell it for an apartment that has been fumigated to smell like a men's locker room. I know when a boombox, placed under my bed the moment I lay down, becomes a woofer. Night after night.
This tenant has rights and should be given "leeway," says the Kenosha Police Department.
As for management, I've never been asked about my health. The local manager, however, will pray for me. Always, praying for me whenever I complain. I'm never asked about the fear I feel as night approaches. Between the hours of 12:00 am and 4:00 am, when most residents have long gone to bed, the tenant below turns on and up the volume on his woofer, so I hear the painful hits of each beat from head to toe.
We know there are restrictions on asking about the health and well being of tenants, particularly those who complain about disturbances from other tenants. How can the local manager ask about my health or fear of another Transient Ischemic Attack (TIA) when we know that such a question would violate corporate decorum, the corporate model would forbid such a connection with another? How would local management even begin to express empathy? It's not a job requirement! To do something to resolve a problem that doesn't result in more profits for management, well, no!
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