Old School Art Lesson

Dear Diary,

I never know what grand surprise awaits when I go to do my daily visit with Grandma Ruth and Co. It’s pretty much a crap shoot when it comes to the type of reception I’ll get. Responses ranging from delight…”Oh, would you look who’s here! Am I lucky or what?”
To the lukewarm…”Where have you been? I’ve been sitting here doing absolutely nothing all day and then YOU waltz in.” And then the down right abusive…”YOOOOU! You know what they have us doing? Well don’t just stand there–why don’t you lead an exercise class? Do YOU think you can do that? For crying in my beer!” Say wha? Then today, for the first time in years, I got… real.

I had tip-toed in and hung back in a corner to observe the much touted and expensive” Memory Enhancement Program” in full swing. Why look there– the residents are engrossed in an appropriate and dignified project that is appropriate to their cognitive abilities. I came a little closer to peer down at the artfully done……Care Bear coloring book? Color Crayons? Are you kidding me? I look at Ruth and she has this look on her face that says…”there is no way that I’m going to participate in this Bull Shwanky if it’s the last thing I do! And, Adrienne, if you so much as glance down at the table right now…you’ll be living two floors above me in assisted living”. O.K. fine…I need to remove her as fast as possible without causing Harriet to get up and start licking my face. So, I blurt out something about having to go pluck Ruth’s chin hairs and away we dash.

As we took our walk later on, I asked Ruth about the coloring incident. It’s a good place to mention that Ruth is smack dab in the middle stages of Alzheimer’s. There are more days than not when remembering how to wash our hands can be an ordeal. Putting her shoes on may take longer than my 5k PR..which for all practical purposes is not that bad (for the 70-75 age group).

Ruth expressing her feelings can be a little like me with PMS. Incoherent and agitated. The answer I received this time made me question all over again “what’s a girl like Ruth doing in a place like this?”. “Adrienne, I think it’s degrading to have grown men and women given something a Kindergartner would do. How can they (phewww, she said “they”) treat us like children? It’s just not right and I’m not doing it again. So, you do something!”
Are you kidding me? After that monologue…Holy Shmole! Happy Daze Assisted Living Admin. run for cover..”Your hiney is mine(y)!” H-E-L-L-O ELDERCARE “professionals” are you LISTENING?

Well, that’s the way it was. Oh, forgot to mention, this new guy Ted moved in. Such a great man and highly functioning to boot (is that an oxymoron?). I mentioned this to Ruth and she looks at me and rolls her eyes. “He’s married..he’s got a wife.” “Yeah..well, I didn’t tell you to SLEEP WITH HIM!” “Oh, I guess not…” she answers, just a little too wistfully to set me on edge.
I am NOT going there!

Be chill! OH,MY SANDWICH GENERATION BEAUTIES!

A

Welcome to Dementia High

Dear Diary,

Some things NEVER change! How is it that the “cool” girls in High school can still wield such immense power–sixty-five years AFTER their reign? They huddle together at lunch while waiting for their cream based soups and meatloaf surprise, whispering about the “poor unfortunates” who wander the halls waiting for their “mother” to pick them up. “Your mother has to pick you up?” asks eighty-five year old Selma to eighty-seven year old Kitty, “don’t you have a car?”, Selma’s BFF Virginia gasps, casting sideways glances at the other cool girls all nodding in agreement. “Well, we all drive” Selma continues, putting emphasis on all, “what a shame you can’t.”
Finally when I’d had enough with the exchange I made a point of telling Selma and her posse that it wasn’t Kitty’s mother who was picking her up, it was a limo (never mind that it was Happy Daze Assisted Living’s limo) and that she was going out to visit her heart doctor.A hush fell over the table…Kitty was going OUT!

Well, you should have seen how fast those grannies sucked up to Kitty! The pride was beaming so bright, that the glow was bouncing of the bald spot on Odneys head and causing Ruth to cover her already dark shaded eyes. Nothing better than joining the ranks of COOL GIRL!

More from Dementia High and eldercare GONE WILD..l-a-t-e-r. You ROCK! My Sandwich Generation girlfriends!

A

And here’s Granny…

Dear Diary,

Went to pick up Grandma Ruth (mother-in-law) today to get her hair done. Flew to the elevators so fast to make the appointment time and in doing so caused a half dozen residents to scurry for cover. Up I went and before the elevator doors had fully opened, was down the hall and pushing open the faux bookcase, key padded door to Dementia Ville, USA. “Oh look!” there goes Harriet with her stuffed dog Fido. “Uh oh!” I chide Harriet, looks like puppy did a doo-dee. “No”, I’m scolded and given a big hug. “Fido is a good dog”, “Fido wants to go for a walk!” her voice gets slightly louder. “Fido wants to go OUT for a walk, NOW.” “Rats!” what did I get myself into…Turning the corner, I catch her out of the corner of my eye– my Ruth. “Lets get outta here”, she whispers. “It’s a bit nutty today.” Today? Pleeeeze!
Loong day…it just gets better!

Over and out!
A