"Actually, 2-May is better than 7-Goodman in that you are able to move around the hospital more, and you can even get passes easier to go off campus, even by yourself. It's much more like real life. We can go outside to ride bikes, and we can even ride our bikes to the park across the street, something we did nearly every weekend. We can also go to the store across the street, something I don't generally do. The rule here is in order to leave the campus you have to have an adult escort, which isn't hard to do. While on 7-Goodman you had to get permission from one of the nurses to leave 7-Goodman, on 2-May all you have to do is sign out and you get to go wherever you want. So it's much easier to visit 7-Goodman when you live on 2-May, than it is to visit 2-May when you live on 7-Goodman. And considering the kids on both floors are the same age, most of our activities were done together, so many of us have friends in both places."For a while I forgot about my friends on 2nd or 3rd Goodman (or maybe it was 4-Goodman), and one day I went over there to visit my COPD friends. The guy was discharged, but my lady friend was still there. Now that I was on 2-May I visited her more often. I didn't spend as much time with the nurses there anymore, I just spent time with this patient. I have no memory of what his name was. In fact, I don't know that I ever knew it, as remembering names is not one of my strengths, never has been.
As the weather warmed up we spent more and more time outside. We rode bikes, rode them to the park, and we played baseball. I had a friend on 7-Goodman who was a couple years younger than me. His name was Jeff, and he was from Chicago. My other friend, Tim, was discharged to home, so now I spent all my free time with Jeff. He was an avid Cub fan, perhaps as good of a fan as I as a Tiger fan. We went outside to play catch nearly every day. I made my way to level 4 on 2-May, so I was able to escort him to outside. I usually had to go up to 7-Goodman and sign out with him from there, unless his mother as visiting. If she was there, she'd sit on the picnic tables outside and watch us.
These were the same picnic tables mom had me sit on one day and she cut my hair during one of her visits. She was too cheap to take me to a barber. I remember being embarrassed that my mom cut my hair, and I never let her do it again.
There was another kid who was from New York, and his name was Chico. I think he used that name because he loved Chicago. He was a unique kid, who looked and acted like a Hippy. He even listened to music from the 60s. He was different, but for some reason he was hanging around me when mom visited with her sister Clara, and mom invited Chico to go with us. It was a nice day as we went to the Capital of Denver, and walked around a park downtown. It was one of the nicest days of the year so far. I remember lying in the grass with Chico, mom, and Clara and staring at the blue sky. I closed my eyes and thought of how nice it was to be off campus with my mom and my aunt. I wished I could just go home with mom. But my counselors and psychologist didn't think I was ready.
And that sets up a post about my psychologist named Casey and my Counselors. I loved my counselors, but I hated Casey. Yet as I reminisce, I'd like to