January 2007 arrived, and it was time for me to transfer to my new facility. I wanted to leave but wanted to stay at the same time. I was scared to go to a place I didn’t know existed. However, it wasn’t a matter of choice, and I knew it.

I arrived at the great London House of the city of Sonoma, California, in a room shared with four residents, including me. I was really sorry, scared, and sad. I was the only paralyzed, nonspeaking Mexican and the youngest resident of the nursing home; most of the others were above 50 and older. The first few days were tough for me; I got very depressed and lonely, missing my nurses at Healdsburg Hospital. I didn’t even want to get in a wheelchair. I cried and cried, like a sick puppy, for a few days; I put myself together and started to get off the bed. I asked my brother-in-law for a desk to set up the computer, and he found one and brought it up to the room. I was in the corner, so there was no space for me to set up the desk, two of my roommates occupying the first two beds at the entrance of the room, were scheduled to leave soon. I had to wait for my roommates to get discharged. They left two weeks after my arrival. I moved from bed C to bed A. Now, I had almost the whole room to myself, and there was another Filipino elderly person in the last bed of the room, bed D.

I had the desk set up, the laptop turned on, and I started surfing the web. I was getting good at the computer, I don’t know what happened to me, but I was like smartypants since I woke up. Furthermore, I wasn’t too stupid before, but since the accident, I feel more intelligent and thoughtful about life in general. Anyway, I used to get very tired while using the baseball cap with the pointer stick because my head always bent down. I was quickly adjusting to my new home. I wasn’t getting used to eating my food smashed and drinking thick liquids; they were not tasty and satisfying! I wanted to get regular meals and water, but it was not possible in my condition. I knew I could swallow regular food; I knew I could, but the hard thing was to make them believe, and that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

I started figuring out how to get the food and liquids regularly. I asked around and got some information on the best, and legal procedures, once I knew what to do, I went ahead. What I was told on the food and drinks issue was, in short, to sign a paper, basically, giving up my legal rights, if something bad happened to me, I was responsible, not the facility. I liked that finding! So I asked management about it, and they tried to talk me out of it, but it was decided already, and nobody would tell me otherwise. I started getting regular meals soon after; I could eat anything I wanted to; YAY, VICTORY!