Tramping around in there, back and forth between the kitchen and the lounge, the washroom and the ward, it was as though nothing else existed, the whole unit with its harsh light and linoleum floor, its rank odors and heaps of frustration and compulsions was an existence all of its own, which I descended into, it engulfed me, crossing the threshold to the corridor was like stepping into a zone. It wasn’t without problems, but the problems were bound to the life there, the people there, both the caregivers and the residents. It had something to do with the fact that we were locked in, that we
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