--- Preface.

Neil walked into the professional looking office of Ms. Handkok. Ms. Handkok was sitting behind her desk, in front of a large window with tan shades. Plants sprinkled around the room gave it a pastoral appearance.

"Hello Ms. Handkok."

"Hello, Mr. Chambers. You've done well on your interviews. I am prepared to offer you employment."

"Wonderful."

"But, before I can, there is one last thing you need to do?"

'What?"

"As you know, we pride ourselves as being very empathetic."

Neil nodded his head.

"How we manage that, is that all our personnel lives a day as one of our residents to see how it feels to be on the other end."

Neil didn't know where this was going.

"You'll have to do the same."

"I will?"

"Yes, you are going to live a day as Mildred, she is one of our residence. She has gone for the day having a minor medical procedure. You'll be living in her room. You'll do what she does. You'll see how she is treated."

"I see. I don't think I want to do that."

"Then I can't hire you."

"What do I have to do?"

"Whatever she would do. Wake up, eat breakfast, be with the other residents, go to crafts and any therapies she needs. Just let people take care of you. It's not that bad."

"I guess that is alright."

"Mildred does have memory problems. So we'll have to give you some medication which will allow you to see things as she does. It'll make you a little confused, but that is part of it. You'll be fully awake by the time you are ready to leave here."

"I see."

"OK," Ms. Handkok showed Neil some pictures. "Here are some of the people who work here. These are some of the residences that Mildred knows. Their names are..."

"Try and remember their names, but it really doesn't matter."

Ms. Handkok contacted her secretary. "Send Emily in."

"This is Emily. She's one of our nurses who will be helping you. She'll also give you the shot."

"Roll up your sleeve," Emily commanded.

Neil did so. Soon he fell asleep.

--- Morning

I wake up to the soft sound of a bird singing outside my window. The light filters in through the curtains, and I blink, trying to remember where I am. The room looks familiar yet strange at the same time. I see photos on the nightstand - faces smiling at me, but their names escape me.

A gentle knock on the door, and a nurse walks in. Her name is... Emily, I think. She greets me with a warm smile.

"Good morning, Mildred! Did you sleep well?"

I nod, though I can't quite remember. Something seems off, but the name Mildred sounds familiar. She helps me get out of bed and into my pink nylon robe. I see some blue slippers at the foot of the bed. I step into them.

Emily holds my shoulder steadying my. I feel somewhat dizzy. It's comforting that she is supporting me.

As Emily helps me wash up and get dressed, she chats about the weather and the day's activities. I try to follow along, but my mind feels foggy. She lays out a simple outfit - comfortable brown pants, a soft tan sweater, white bra, and panty briefs. I think I wore something similar yesterday, but I'm not sure.

Emily guides me to the dining room. The smell of coffee and toast fills the air, and I feel a pang of hunger. I sit at my usual spot, and the faces around me, are both familiar and unfamiliar. I smile at the lady next to me. I think her name is Mary, but I don't want to risk being wrong, so I just say, "Good morning."

Breakfast is oatmeal with a side of fruit. I like the way the warm oatmeal feels on my tongue, though I can't recall if I liked it before. Emily checks in on me, making sure I'm eating.

After breakfast, there's a group activity - arts and crafts. I enjoy these sessions, even if I can't always remember what we made last time. Today, we're painting. The colors make me happy. I lose myself in the brush strokes, creating something that feels beautiful in the moment.

A staff member, Jake, compliments my painting. I smile and thank him, though I don't quite remember his name until he introduces himself again. I see my name written on the corner of the paper: "Mildred." It's comforting to have that small piece of identity.

--- Afternoon

Lunch is in the dining room again. I sit with a different group this time. They all seem to know me, but I struggle to place them. We have soup and sandwiches. The warm soup feels good, especially when I dip the sandwich into it.

In the afternoon, there's music therapy. I love music. It brings back flashes of memories - dancing, singing, maybe with family or friends. The therapist plays an old song on the piano, and I hum along. The words escape me, but the melody feels like home.

I feel tired after therapy. Emily helps me return to my room. I take a nap.

--- New Person

After my nap, I feel different. I must have slept wrong because I can feel pain in my joints.

"Nice nap?" Emily asks.

"I don't know. I feel achy."

"I guess your arthritis is flaring up. Want a pill for the pain?"

My arthritis? Do I have arthritis? I don't know. But a little relief would be wonderful. I nodded.

She bids me to wait and gets me a pill with a cup of water. I take it.

"Where next?" I ask.

"Mildred, you have an appointment to get your hair done. We are going to pretty you up."

I don't complain. I don't even need to walk to the salon. Emily brings a wheelchair and rolls me there. I get off out of the wheelchair and into one of the two salon chairs. I am looking at myself. I am disappointed that my own face doesn't look familiar to me. I'm an elderly woman, clearly over seventy-years-old. I have brown eyes and white thinning hair. My face is covered with wrinkles.

I don't recognize the stylist. She says her name is Joan.

"I'm going to make you pretty. I'm going to start by washing your hair and then setting it in curlers. It should take about an hour."

"Fine. I'll sit here."

The pain pills seem to be working. My hands don't hurt as much. The warm water running through my hair as Joan started to wash it feels so relaxing. I watch as she puts my hair into curlers and then blow dries my hair. She keeps reminded me that I'm going to be so pretty.

After the hair salon, I'm rolled to the occupational therapist. She shows me pictures of my family and reminds me who these people are. She shows me how to do this and that. I try to keep up, but thinking is hard. I'm glad to have something to do though.

--- Evening

Dinner is a quieter affair. I'm feeling tired, and my mind is even foggier than usual. We have chicken and vegetables. I eat slowly, savoring each bite. Emily checks in on me, and I tell her about my time at the salon. She listens patiently, even if I repeat myself.

After dinner, there's some time to watch TV or read. I prefer to sit by the window and watch the sunset. The colors blend together beautifully, and for a moment, I feel a sense of peace.

Emily helps me get ready for bed. She removes my hearing aids and dentures. She tucks me in, and I thank her. I try to remember everything that happened today, but it's like trying to hold water in my hands. Some memories slip away, but the feeling of being cared for and loved remains.

"Goodnight Mildred," Emily says as she exits the room. "See you tomorrow."

"Goodnight Emily."

As I close my eyes, I hope to dream of familiar faces and happy times. Tomorrow will come with its own challenges, but for now, I rest, knowing I am safe and not alone.

End.