NURSE JUDY’S NOOK

A home in disarray
Judy Conlin

I think I’ve decided to stay here in my longtime home at Lake Tallavanna. I wanted to downsize and be a little closer to town, but this house is like a warehouse of antiques, junk, and minutia that I’ve collected over the last forty years. The thought of trying to clear it out and move has paralyzed me for months. My poor realtor has run herself ragged trying to find me the perfect place to live. She not only has had me to please, but that pesky alter ego of mine, Nurse Judy.
Nurse Judy throws her 2 cents in on every decision. She would like a huge mansion with a winding staircase-a place like Tara in Gone With the Wind. I would never be able to get up those stairs and if I did, I would be tumbling down like Jill in Jack and Jill. She envisions herself gliding up, and down those stairs in gowns I would go broke providing her with, and I would be lying in a hospital bed recovering from a fall or even worse lying in a morgue.
I am looking for a house with spaces for my chocolate pots, African violets, and all the treasures I can’t begin to part with. It must have no stairs at all, be in a wonderful neighborhood with beautiful views, be cat friendly, a way to get my groceries in and out safely and also have a little privacy. I didn’t think I was asking for too much, but no home seemed to have it all. As week after week has gone by, I’ve been afraid my realtor was going to need tranquilizers or psychotherapy as each offering was either turned down by Nurse Judy or myself. With all this looming over my head, I was afraid I would be in the psychiatrist’s office right beside her. What was I to do?
It took me a while, but I noticed that my present home has no stairs at all. This is a lovely safe neighborhood. What prettier view could one have? I could get rid of a lot of stuff and still have room for a lot of my treasures.
With just a few little improvements, I could have my dream home right here. My stress level could drop, and I could go back to having a nice calm serene life again. All m y problems would be resolved.
Just as I was patting myself on the back for coming up with such a great decision, Nurse Judy walked in the room with sour puss. She had been dreaming about a more genteel way of life for her. This plan was not to her liking.
“Don’t worry,” I told her. “With a few minor improvements this will be like a new home.”
She stared at me.
“You know there’s some dry rot on the outside,” she said, “This house needs new gutters, the outside deck needs to be replaced. The hot water tank needs a pan under it. The outside faucet needs replaced.as do the kitchen counters. The porch needs pressure washed and there’s a lot of junk that needs hauled away. All this is going to cost a lot of money and not one bit of it makes life better for me. I hear nothing about a bigger closet, a prettier view from the swivel chair which I don’t have. You have a lounge chair. I don’t even have one of them. I’ve always wanted a swivel rocker, but you said they were too expensive. Do you ever give a bit of consideration for me?”
She was hot under the collar.
I am upset, Am I so selfish I only think of myself.?” I am getting rid of 2 antique chairs and my Lazy Boy,” I say. ”Maybe I‘d be able to get you the chair you want, “ I say reluctantly , dollar signs swimming in my head.
“Gaita have 2,” she says. “Otherwise, you’ll always be sitting in mine. What about the view.?”
“I’ll have French doors put in so you can swivel your chair and have a pretty view.”
She’s slightly appeased. “‘I need more closet space,” she continues.
“Okay.” I say, “but that’s it. “Nothing else.”
“One new dress for the added space?” she queries softly.
“I hate you,” I say. “I got rid of 3 chairs to make more space and you’re getting two much larger ones. There are workmen everywhere. The house is a madhouse. My stress level hasn’t gone down and I’m spending money like a drunken sailor.”
A now mollified Nurse Judy smiles at me beatifically. “You shouldn’t talk like that, Judy. You’’ll get a bad reputation.”