I beat the caveman to the other rehab early yesterday morning, talked with the RNs about my visit to the Lung Transplant Clinic and other subjects before bringing up my problem. Sara, who works at my rehab class, understood immediately. She noticed that he doesn't talk to anyone else then I added I noticed that he stared at me throughout the workout from across the gym. As of last Tuesday, he was making me uncomfortable, I felt that creepy feeling and I would be pulling way back from him.
About 25-minutes after I had arrived, I was hoping he was not going to show up when Sara came by the arm bike to let me know that he was filling out paperwork. He was there.
In the meantime, I was checking in with some dear people I had not seen in a couple of months. They had been worried about me. It was wonderful to be back and feeling so well loved. One of them shared that he was 86-years old and there was no way I would have thought he was that old just looking at him. Such a nice man but having horrible kidney problems.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw Sara taking the caveman through the tour of the gym. I gathered my purse and magazine, turned around and there he was.
"Are you buying new oxygen equipment?"
I was wearing my liquid oxygen backpack and was a bit confused by the question. "No, this is old equipment." "Not, that," he replied, "the one on the brochure." He had been watching Tuesday when Kathy gave me the information regarding her Eclipse that she would love to sell.
"Yes, it would be perfect for travel," I said.
He then told me that he was going to buy a portable oxygen system since Medicare will pay for it. I told him that they would pay for a portable oxygen system if it was the only oxygen in use. No concentrator. No gas. They can be temperamental so it is not recommended that they are the ONLY access to oxygen. But, since he already had a concentrator, they would not pay for it.
Then, he asked if I worked out at the other rehab on the weekends? Now, I do workout on the weekends if it is raining or if I have extra time while waiting for Michael to finish something. Rarely in the summertime do I workout at the other rehab as I would rather walk the beach. "Yes, I do," I answered.
Then, I glanced at my watch and said, "I'm late. I've got to get to my mom." He walked me out. Without a backward glance, I answered his, "See you next week," with a wave and a bye. Still creepy. Feeling it even more.