Don Armando was kind. Polite. Grateful. “Thank you, Nurse Cristina. God bless you.”
He told me his story: he had worked all his life as a bricklayer. He had three children. But when he was widowed and became ill, the children disappeared.
“I talk to them and they don’t answer. I send them messages and nothing. I think I’m in their way.”
That broke my heart
Don Armando was hospitalized for two months. During all that time, nobody came to visit him. Nobody.
When he was discharged, the doctor called me: “Cristina, Don Armando can leave now. But… he has nowhere to go.”
“What do you mean it doesn’t have one?”
“He was living in a rented room. Since he went two months without paying, the landlord has already rented it to someone else. Don Armando is now homeless.”
“And your children?”
“We called them. They didn’t answer. We left messages. Nothing.”
Don Armando sat on his hospital bed, holding his small bag of belongings, not knowing where to go.
I approached: “Don Armando, do you have a friend where you can stay?”
“No, nurse. All my friends are either dead or in the same state as me.”
“Anyone I know?”
“No, honey. I’m alone.”
Tears welled up in her eyes.
I couldn’t sleep that night. Thinking about Don Armando. About how they were going to send him to a shelter. Or worse, out on the street.
The next morning I arrived at the hospital determined.
I went to my boss: “Ma’am, Mr. Armando can stay with me.”
“That?”
“At my house. I’ll take care of him.”
“Cristina, are you crazy? You don’t know him. He’s a stranger.”
“I’ve known him for two months, ma’am. He’s a good person.”
“Cristina, think it over carefully. It’s a huge responsibility.”
“I’ve already thought about it”
My colleagues told me the same thing: “Cristina, don’t do that. You’re going to get into trouble.”
A nurse friend told me, “Cristina, what if he turns out to be sly? What if he steals from you? What if he’s dangerous?”
“He’s not dangerous. He’s 75 years old and has only one leg.”
“Cristina, that’s very kind of you. But it’s not your responsibility.”
But I had already made up my mind.
I told Don Armando, “Don Armando, if you’d like, you can stay at my house for a while. Until you find something.”
Don Armando cried: “Seriously, nurse?”
“Seriously. I have a spare room. I don’t use it. It can stay there.”
“God bless you, my dear. You have no idea how grateful I am.”
That’s how Don Armando came to live with me.
I live alone. I got divorced 5 years ago. I don’t have children. I have a two-bedroom house. One bedroom is for me, the other is empty.
The first few days were strange. I wasn’t used to living with someone. And Don Armando didn’t want to bother me either.
“Nurse, can I help you with anything?”
“Don Armando, rest. You are still recovering.”
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