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Love Triangle

Front row: Left Papa G. Marnie, RuthDear Diary,

Today I did the impossible..I hit THREE..yes—you heard right. T-H-R-E-E  different health care under six hours. If that’s not the kick ARSE-E-EST..then I don’t know WHAT is. First stop was to visit Papa G. who’s exquisitely BAD timing has put him smack dab in the middle of MY Sandwich.. which is already full up and stuffed to the gills with my MIL Ruth (dementia) and Granny Marnie (electric scooter girl) topping it off. What this means is..Papa G… although most needing of his TLC time.. gets totally gypped because of the competition. As luck would have it, G won me first..lucky dude. Off I went to the lovely Nursing Home setting of Cruel-ill de’Villa..where every room has a spectacular view of the water below. I’m sure all the residents find it very reassuring, that if they feel well enough..they can just pop down to the dock and have a ski before breakfast..anytime they want. THAT.. in itself is something to live for. Hmpf.

Time spent with “G.” demands a completely different approach then with the other two girls. First of all..I get to do all the talking. This is not as hard as it sounds. I am so AMAZING at talking about absolutely nothing (to myself) for twenty..even thirty minutes. Cripes. It startles me how good I am. Some would find it daunting to carry on a monologue in the presence of a sleeping audience. I welcome it as a challenge of my craft. I pull up along side Papa G.’s bedside and whisper a hello. I know that even though he’s sleeping most.. if not all of the time these days..he’ll welcome the conversation of one who leads such a thrilling and extraordinary life..

“..and then AFTER I took a picture of the kids burnt EGGO waffles and posted them on twitpic.. I did the laundry. (pause) Hey. I know. Do you want me to play some music for you. Yeah..sure you do– might enjoy that (as opposed to me sitting here prattling on for the next 45 min.). Let’s see..(shuffling through iTunes library) how about this..?”

How can Papa G. not love Nickelback? Naahhhhh. Something in the B’s maybe? Oh. This might work. Breathe..Michelle Branch. CLASSIC. I’m a big believer in subliminals. This could accomplish TWO things at once..relaxation and inspiration. I click it on and hold it up to his ear watching for some sign of enjoyment..Wait. Was that a movement I just saw. “Papa G. do you like this?” OMG he made an affirmative noise.. I’m sure of it. I’m watching very carefully..leaning in close. Wahhhh. He’s snoring. Time to try massage. Very soothing.

Where are my kids when all this excitement is going down? My boys are very used to making the rounds (when later compensation is involved). Aliendude and Smartalec come fully equipped with their DVD player and are pro’s at the advanced age of nine and eleven in the eldercare arena. Fingers CROSSED that they retain this knowledge for some—oh..I don’t know. Some future NEED. Through trial and error we’ve learned that some facilities are more kid friendly then others. Cruel-ill is a little bit on the “not so much” side. Happy Daze Assisted..on the other hand offers all the pop you can drink, unlimited stale cookies and a pool table..that will help build great and wonderful skill in my boys when they hit.. Vegas.

Ruth was going to be a snap after Papa G. because my conversation with her is guaranteed to be stimulating. I ran up the back staircase and hit the keypad lock to push the secret door aside up on ROAM (Team dementia headquarters). Why, would you lookie here? We have an absolutely cutthroat game of “frap-a-pingo” (Ruth’s nod to the Mocha Frappuccino’s from our fav Starbucks mixed with BINGO) going on here. Faye as usual is shouting at the top of her lungs her infamous line..

“She cheated. I saw her cheat (pointing at Ru). She knows FULL well she doesn’t have an s-3. Take it off N-O-W.”

OH. PLEEEEZE Faye. If I had a nickel for EVERY time you pulled a fast one..I’d be on a cruise ship to Vancouver. With Ru..and the kids. Ru might be helping the kids onto the deck tables so they might yell “MOM, we can see MUCH better from here. Woo Hoo.” Leaning way over the railing to view the icy waters below.. thus eliciting shrieks of terror from their mother.. Huh? Oh. Yeah. I’ll tell you about THAT one another time.

Ruth said the heat of the day was beginning to take a toll on her person and I readily agreed. I removed her from Faye’s insults not because WE’RE afraid of Faye (which we are) but because some concern was aired by granny regarding the symptoms of “profuse perspiration (neck dampness) and confusion” which we all know, could point to a myriad of heat related issues. In someone NOT in an air-conditioned room—chugging cranberry punch and sporting dementia. I decided the best action under these dangerous conditions was to spritz her down with a bottle of FIJI water I had hidden in her linen closet for this VERY reason. Here. Sit back and relax in the nice lazy boy recliner granny. Maybe you’d like another sip of Passion Tea-lemonade? “Just r-e-l-a-x. Close your eyes and pretend you’re in Hawaii.” I coo. Hoping to settle her down after Faye’s hurtful (and SO true) accusations of dishonorable conduct.

“How can I relax. I’m in the middle of a MONSOON?”

Pffffffft. Too much wind and surf? Ignoramus I. AC down high. Here’s a towel.

I gathered up the kids from the poolroom.. where they had skillfully engineered a ramp out of the pool sticks and were rolling the balls down in groups of ten..towards the a sort of booby trap (I can’t say that my children don’t use their time wisely). It was time to drop them at home with dad and hit the happiest place on earth next. KillJoy -if it hasn’t been done..we’ll do it to you. Humble abode of sweet dear Marnie..electric scooter girl par excellence.

Marnie was having a tough time tonight. I knew it definitively when ALL she could compliment me on was my “thick eyebrows”. Yup. We’re scraping the bottom of the barrel these days. Granny is missing Papa G. so much since he moved over to
Brand X. She is concerned he sleeps so much and eats so little. I have to remind her that a dude gets PRETTY tired when he’s worked for almost all of the 96 years of his life. Speaking of tired..and hungry. I seem to recall I have..KIDS. Time for me to head on home and dive into the lower slice of my big heaping mouthful..of delight. The meal is waiting for me at my table.



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Posted in Uncategorized 12 years, 6 months ago at 11:27 pm.

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