It’s Friday, so let’s share some funnies. What’s a humorous experience that’s happened to you in your caregiving role? It could be something that happened years ago or just yesterday, as long as today it makes you giggle. We’ll giggle with you.
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Quickly upon being discharged from Moss Brain Injury Center in Olney, Pa, my husband was scheduled for a pain management appointment with a Dr. Jerrold Friedman of Cooper Hospital in Camden, NJ. Dr. Friedman, actually resembes Keono Reves I am told. In any event, my husband was getting extreme migraines that no amount of meditation or pain medication was relieving. Dr. Friedman not only performs traditional pain relief, but also acupuncture and at the time what appeared to be a form a Reiki, but it’s not. Now, keep in mind this is way before the general public started discussing alternative ways to manage your pain, and my husband was in his early stages of recovery from severe brain damage and had dytharsia and dyphasia, so he didn’t sound like himself. We are now on our way home from our visit with Dr. Friedman, when out of the blue, he turns and looks at me and says, “You know….if I were gay I’d marry him!” he shouts with this huge smile. It was the first relief of pain he had in months. It took me a few minutes to grasp what he was trying to tell me!
B I N G O !!!!!
Mom always enjoyed going to Bingo. She used to go Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Saturdays when she lived alone. I unfortunately cannot get her there as often as I would like but I am always happy on the days when we are able to. It is good for her to be with all of her friends and it is also good for me to get a little time away from her. I love going to pick her up at Bingo. Sometimes I arrive early and she hands me one of her cards to play. Certain numbers have comments from the crowd…for some reason the number 66 requires the entire room to whistle…..49 they all shout out 49!!!!!!!!! I dont recall the number that requires them to ring some sort of bell…Who isnt yelling shake those balls, or slow down…your going too fast. God forbid the same person wins more than once…Oh my goodness…they get vicious!!…The church Bingo they play for small money prizes as all of the seniors are on limited incomes…for the price of Bingo they get a sandwich and two boards. Its nice for them…The Salvation Army Bingo however they are not allowed to play for money so all the seniors must bring a prize with them. That is a bit more challenging as I have to rifle through the apartment to find her something to bring. I usually give her body lotion I received as Christmas gifts but never used, things like that. She comes home with her prizes…a few that come to mind are dish towels…they were pretty nice actually….she was so excited the day she won the jar of green olives….and the last prize was a box of salt free chicken noodle soup. She made it for lunch one day so proud!!!…If you could see how long it takes them to pick a prize off of that table…So much concentration is involved!!!It gets them all out in a social setting and that is so important. It is very strange how life revolves. Her Saturday Bingo is in the same church my son went to pre-school 18 years ago. We let her out of the car and she usually says I can go myself … dont walk me in…just like my toddler said. I do go in to pick her up just like I did him…I used to hold his hand coming out and asking him so how was school today?…Now I hold hers asking how was Bingo!!….Im always happy for her the days she goes to Bingo. Im not making fun or calling Mom a child…it just amazes me and makes me laugh a bit as to how the roles somehow reversed.
My great aunt was a feisty woman with strong opinions and attitude to spare. Liz lived alone, worked well into her 70′s, and was proud of her independence. She even rode the bus to the beauty shop.
When Liz was diagnosed with cancer and needed care, one members of the team was a paid care provider. She was very competent, and a really nice woman, but she had the wrong idea about my aunt because of my aunt’s age. The (other) caregiver had wanted to provide some entertainment for Liz, so she turned on the TV and found a classic movie for her to watch.
I guess Liz was holding her tongue because the woman had been good to her (or something). When I arrived to take over, I found Liz propped up in her bed, arms crossed, with ATTITUDE written all over her face. I asked what was wrong and she said, “Will you look what this woman put on the TV?”
I just laughed and changed the channel (and spoke to the caregiver). Liz like action movies. She had a crush on Steven Seagal and owned all of his movies. “Steven Seagal, I’ll watch anything with him in it.” Nobody was likely to be blown up, beaten up, or gunned down in the “classic” Liz had been “forced” to watch.
The caregiver apologized and told Liz that she didn’t intend any offense. Liz accepted her apology, but continued to act “snippy” with her until she left. I just thought it was too funny that Liz would get so angry about the assumption that she liked “old” movies.
.-= April´s last blog ..Have You Lost Weight? =-.
My dad was the Jack of all trades kinda guy. In fact, he always kept one of his thumbnails, which was hard as a rock, a little bit long and on occasion was known to use that thumbnail as a flattip screwdriver. Yep, that was my dad. When my dad had to go into a convalescent home due to dementia he had a hard time adjusting, for one, they kept him strapped to his wheelchair because he always tried to escape, they kept an alarm on him because he always went out the door. One particular day I showed up, just like I did everyday for the 8 months my dad was there, I asked Ruth, the charge nurse on his floor where my daddy was and how he was. She says, “oh, he’s over there by the door, he’s been sitting there for awhile, not complaining, he’s being a good boy today.” That was odd because my dad was always up to something. I walked over to my dad and gave him a hug and kiss, said, “hi daddy, what cha doing?” My dad looks at me, holds open his hand to show me he was fixing doors. He had about six pins that go in the hinges on doors, he was making his rounds I guess, getting the doors fixed. He said, “I can’t get anyone to help me fix these doors, hold these for me so I can get the rest”. I called Ruth over and showed her what my dad was up to, boy did we get a laugh when he says, “Its hard to find good help around here, we need to fire this crew and hire some new ones”. Maintenance sure got a chuckle when they found out my daddy had used his fingernail as a screwdriver.
My father had been ill and in the hospital for almost two weeks and when he was released, he needed round-the-clock care. He was unsteady on his feet and needed a walker for support and was on a myriad of pain medications that made him a little “fuzzy”. My stepmother had just taken a new job across the country, their house had just sold and they were set to move just before my father went into the hospital. My stepmother was concerned about leaving him alone while she started her new job and with both of them so far away, there was no one there to help her with my father. My sister and I agreed we would take care of him until he was well enough to travel and be left in his new home alone.
Oh boy, what an ordeal. We set him up at my sister’s house and rented a hospital bed for him that we stationed in her living room. We had an arrangement: I would take care of dad during the day while my sister worked, and then she would care for him when she got home while I worked 2nd shift. Stubborn and my father went hand-in-hand and he was prone to very colorful outbursts that would make a sailor blush even before he took ill. The pain medication released what little restraint my father had. He kept insisting he was fine and we could leave him alone but we all knew the reason he wanted to be left alone was so he could smoke..something the doctor said needed to stop and my sister didn’t want him smoking in her house. I have no idea where he got them, but I caught him time and time again smoking in her bathroom. That and he’d turn the furnace up every time I wasn’t looking..drove my sister nuts because she knew her bill was going to be huge.
What always made me laugh was setting my father up in the morning. We’d get him his pain meds, move him from his hospital bed to the recliner and I’d set up his tv tray with juice, his breakfast, his cell phone and the television remote. I’d catch him trying to make a phone call on the tv flicker a dozen times a day, dialing the numbers on the remote and holding it up to his ear…then he’d turn to me and say “This f(*king thing isn’t working again, Verizon s*cks”. This actually wasn’t a bad thing because the meds made my father very forgetful. He’d call someone and then call them back 10 minutes later to tell them the same story..so the “flicker phone” as we dubbed it was actually a good thing.
And he loathed the physical therapist that came to the house every other day. When she wasn’t there, he was supposed to be doing exercises..but he never would. She’d yell at him, he’d yell back and call her names; I still can’t believe she stuck it out with my dad, I felt sorry for her. And every time she’d leave he’d give her the finger when she had her back turned to him.
In the end, my dad ended up being well enough to travel after a month. He lived five more years before he passed away, but my sister and I still laugh about the time we took care of dad.
.-= shel´s last blog ..FeelGood & Look Great with Lands’ End =-.