PUSH MY BUTTON
Dear Diary,
I know better. I. KNOW. BETTER. Now I’m gonna write it a hundred times so I never pull that stunt again. I will NOT allow Ru to push the elevator button. I will not.. Oh suck it. I’m not really sure why I got the sudden surge of brilliance to allow my MIL Ru (dementia) to demonstrate how still incredibly FUNCTIONING she is. Who was THAT for? I am fully aware that THIS same woman who says, “it’s only a button”.. is the same MIL who needs to be coached through grooming in a pathetic attempt to derail her plans of applying strawberry hand soap.. liberally over throat and neck region (to prevent wrinkles). Then there’s the dousing of her NEEKED person with—SCOPE.. for that invigorating tingly fresh feeling only that awesome brand of body splash can provide.
Once my MIL sets her mind to something, pretty much she’ll follow through.. when you LEAST expect it. Come ON staff at Happy Daze Assisted Living. Aren’t you ONE BIT s-u-s-p-e-c-t after late morning Happy Hands class (with those strenuous finger thrusts) granny sneaks off telling you.. SHE has to go “freshen up” cuz she’s all sweaty and gross? Then she comes TRAIPSING back in the room smelling like Crème De Menthe with pink goo caked into her eyebrows. Oh and now we have something NEW. Is that LIP GLOSS what I THINK it is? Why yes. Yes it is. Which one of you LEFT the A + D rash ointment packs out? Huh? Ru..how do you have ANY business even CONTEMPLATING being responsible for the transport of others?
My MIL had very little problem convincing me to cave.. due in part to her fab acting ability. Now can you DO “present with a touch of functioning” Ruth? Yeah. That’s it. Good. Now I want you to gaze lovingly at me with those crinkly sweet (devil) eyes and that Cheshire cat grin (with all those REAL teeth) and say in really STRONG and assertive intonations..
Haven’t I lived here LONG enough and watched you do it a million times? I used to do this. Other people let me. Oh. COME. ON. Pleeeze. Just this once..
A half a dozen assorted eyes were upon us..looking a tiny bit worried as they ALSO waited for the elevator to arrive. Sure. Be that way. All smug in YOUR ability to FUNCTION— while my MIL has asked for a little privilege which YOU guys take TOTALLY for granted every single day. Hey. Where’s everyone going? I look over to see the little group of..maybe 13 or 14 UNASSISTED’S cramming into an empty elevator fast. Pushing and shoving each other and then screaming SHUT IT! SHUT IT! Oh. Way to be MEAN you old BITTYS. Pflug. Because heaven forbid you get stuck out HERE with me and yours truly. Maybe having to make an extra stop or two. It’s not like you have ANYTHING better to do. What? Gonna miss watching the toilet bowl overflow with STUFF that nevah should’ve been thrown in there in the first place.. dude with the “LOST” dentures? You KNOW who you are..Laverne.
If you’ve fallen for it once..you’ll just be stupid all over again statistics show. Whatever. It was a chance I had to take. Ruth needs to feel that she still has SOME abilities remaining. If it’s button pusher she needs to be..then I’m all in support of that. The two of us looked at each other readying ourselves for the impossible.. to figure out in which direction we would be traveling. So granny? You have only TWO choices. Up or down. So push up. We’re going UP Ruth. Don’t be all pushing the down button (trying hard to control impulse to brush hand aside). There’s NO down.
Then why do they HAVE a down button? To screw me up?
Yeah. That’s PRECISELY it. When they INSTALLED the elevator they thought to themselves..how can we make a dementia patient really MORE confused then she already is? EUREKA! We’ll make her THINK there’s a down..when really hahaha there’s clearly NO DOWN.
Ru..you live on the second floor.. so THAT would indicate to ME.. YOU would have to push the..?
UP? NO. DOWN. NO. WAIT. I KNOW THIS ONE..(tick tick.) UP?
Amazing choice.
Ruth is beaming with pride over this clearly CORRECT answer. Hah! We’ll get there yet. But wait. There’s a question?
“NOW WHAT DO WE DO?”
Just a little information for you newbie’s to the world of dementia— instant gratification is built in with the gig. Section 32a of: EVERYTHING you always wanted to know about Dementia- but totally spaced out on and forgot to ask. You PUSH the button..you want the prize. Immediately. That means anytime there’s waiting involved you had better be prepared to entertain. DO I have anything in my teeth?
“Well. Let me see. What is it I’m looking for? What’s that brown? (Sniffing) Did you get into my CHOCOLATE?
(Mouth wide open) I uh oh. Ooh ewe ee any-eng ELLE in air?
“Huh?”
I said do you see anything else.. Oh. Look our ride is here. This is the tricky part and I could sooo make my life a ton easier by sticking her finger on the correct button and doing the deed. But. I. Don’t. That is precisely what I love about me. My absolute never-ending stupidity. K Ru.. What button should we push? I say we try TWO. How do I know you should push two? Well.. because THAT’S where all the cool people live and YOU clearly are one of them so go ahead..just push it. I dare you. No. I DOUBLE dare you.
Granny begins to move her (well manicured with O.P.I blush) finger towards the panel of brightly lit numbers. Find the “2”.. No. That’s the “3”..find the T-W-O. Granny looks up at me with determination burning in her eyes. I can do this. Yeah. We know. She moves her finger right by the “2” button and starts pushing at the plastic boarder surrounding the button. It’s not working. Realllllll cloooossssse mama.. And there you go..
So whom do we know up on EIGHT?
We were on our way UP and there wasn’t a thing I could do about it. The doors open on “8” and this one girl Helen.. with the hairpiece worn backwards that bears a striking resemblance to..ummm… road kill, was there to greet us. Well. Didn’t I see you both DOWNNNNN STAIRS..thirty minutes ago? We’re going DOWN Helen. You and Pepe Le Pew are welcome to join us? “I’ll.. catch the NEXT ONE.” Have it YOUR way.
I am pleased to say we did eventually arrive at our destination and it was worth the wait. Ru was just so dang pleased with herself guys. Words cannot describe. Well, they can– Envision when you first got the training wheels off your bike. How busting your buttons were YOU? See? Very worth the time spent. My MIL was bragging to the whole dementia floor on how she drove us up here. Puh-leeze..nobody else’s DIL lets them drive. Har.
My Sandwich Generation, wherever your seniors are in the aging (functioning) process.. the ability TO perform tasks unassisted– is imperative for their feeling of (faux) independence and self worth. If they have even the remotest chance to be able to accomplish the task themselves..OMG let them. Who cares if YOU could do it faster or better? DON’T. Stand back and take a chill pill. As long as health and safety are not at stake.. let THEM push the buttons.
Going DOWN?
Not a chance.
A
Copyright © 2009 My Sandwich Generation. All rights reserved.
Once again,you give my the best laughs! Thank you..
So glad I could give you all those hahahaha’s Widdly! Thank you for sayin..
i’m laughing too hard to think of anything clever to say
xo
LOL Melissa..You don’t have to say A THING. That laughing is good enough for me darling. Thank you just the same;)
You may have been the only one willing (mean old bitties!!) to take the ride with Ruth but, then again, you have the satisfaction of knowing that with a little time and patience, you gave that lady something to smile about. You rock!
Kat.. I thank you. It was a risk I was willing to take. Although, might not be apt to do it AGAINNNN..