Homestay is not a permanent way of life
Homeness does not mean a permanent solution to loneliness.
It is not how most people view the lives of those on the edge.
It has been described as a journey by nature.
The paradox is that in this particular journey, the process of being on the “edge” has not been entirely pleasant.
A few years ago, my younger brother was diagnosed with a rare genetic mutation in the body that prevented him from developing normally.
He has a condition called phenylketonuria.
It means that his body produces too much and therefore cannot metabolise sugars, and he gets very tired.
He can’t eat or sleep very well.
For a long time, the only way to stop this fatigue was to move.
So he moved back in with a girlfriend, had his teeth knocked out, spent five years on a disability pension, and found himself living in a hotel room with a couple of women, most of whom were in their 30s.
After 10 years in the hotel room, one woman told me her son had died.
She told me that it was a painful story, but he had died, in part, from an old medical error.
I didn’t understand why her son was there.
She wanted me to help her family.
I told her that as a nurse in the UK, she could visit him and help her son if he had a heart attack.
She started crying.
I said I had never seen this person before.
I said, I can’t do that.
Then she asked me if I had a problem.
I explained to her that because he was such a patient, he was very likely to have some sort of heart attack sooner than he would have otherwise.
I had heard stories about heart attacks at least once a week.
She asked me what could I do to help.
I told her the answer: I can take him to a hospice.
The nurse asked if she had any ideas about hospice options.
I couldn’t answer.
I knew that in many families there were already hospice care packages, or I would never be able to do what I wanted to do because I would be losing the relationship with my family.
I had no idea what hospice meant at that point.
I thought about the fact that this was the woman who had helped me with my son and my wife, who had taught me the things I needed to know.
I went and got the hospice package online, and went back to see the hospices in the US where I was living and the UK.
A hospice is not free for most people, but it cost me about $25 a month, which I saved by not leaving the hospital.
And I had two choices: pay for it myself and take my son there, or donate it.
What happened next was so much more important to me than I realised.
I got on an online programme called Connect, an open-source community that allowed me to take my child to hospice, while also giving him an emotional support system, so that he wouldn’t be alone.
I used the online network, connecting people with other patients, and started to meet other families in my experience of the “homestay”.
I met people like Mary and Andrew.
It was a different experience than I was used to.
I was a nurse and I loved medicine.
I didn’t want him to die, so I went with him.
I am a medical doctor now.
It is also a different journey from the “home” where most people might have gone to be with their children and their partner.
I was working as an engineer in a small software startup, and this happened in the middle of the construction boom.
So this was when I saw my first homeless person.
I was doing tests at the hospital, and I was sitting next to him.
He started to cry, and then we shared some words of comfort.
But I realised that this man was suffering.
This was the time when many families on the streets were suffering.
And in the midst of the rebuilding of our town, I could not help him, but I could empathise with what he was going through.
So I decided I needed this person.
I started working with the man, finding other homeless people to help me through the night and the days to find the one I could trust.
One day, I met the first person on my journey and asked him to be my neighbour.
It took some time, but then I realized that we had this common experience of being alone together.
It felt very important to this man and very freeing.
When I met my second and third, I had many conversations about this journey with them.
They said that we weren’t going to see them every day.
We were going to meet only once, because they had two children to look after.
I think it was at this point in my life, I realised how