Friday Fun: Give Us the Guffaws

laughing_hystericallyIt’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.

Please share in our comments section.

Profile photo of Denise

About Denise

I began working with family caregivers in 1990 and launched CareGiving.com in 1996 to help and support them. Through my blog, I share words of comfort and offer coping strategies and tips. I also write opinion pieces about recent research, community programs and media coverage of caregiving issues. I've written several caregiving books, including "The Caregiving Years, Six Stages to a Meaningful Journey," "Take Comfort, Reflections of Hope for Caregivers" and "After Caregiving Ends, A Guide to Beginning Again." You can purchase my books and schedule a coaching call with me in our store.

10 thoughts on “Friday Fun: Give Us the Guffaws

  1. David

    Ok … i can do this … Naturally, once we placed my mother in the dementia specific ward we would go there most evenings to help the nursing staff at meal time. One time i was hand feeding my mother and helping three others eat when one of the remaining 20 patients in the ward, a male just stood walked to the corner and relieved himself against the wall. at the same time one of the females squated and did number 2 … the nurse was obviously having a stressful day … i look at her and then at them …. shrugged my shoulders and said … i really dont think this was a comment on the food tonight … she smiled we laughed and continued with what we needed to do

    Reply
    • Profile photo of DeniseDenise Post author

      I love this! I imagine the nurse said a long prayer of thanks for you once she got home from her shift. What a lovely gift you gave her that evening–the gift of simply accepting that life is a bit different in a dementia ward. :)

      Reply
  2. Profile photo of @gail

    @David, God Bless you! I bet the nurse said to herself! Thank God you didn’t think it terrible enough that you reported it to the staff in charge or something! That would have been just too much no, David? We suffer through these things in our lives and then sometimes people such as you bring us Grace by the little things you say to help us cope! God Bless you! :)

    Reply
  3. Profile photo of ejourneysejourneys

    Among the things I love about my partner are her sense of humor and her brilliance — but things can get interesting when they mix with her cognitive and emotional dysfunction. She thought the psych people took her far too seriously when they examined her during her therapy intake in 2009 because, after all, she did as they asked. They said, “Spell ‘wrong’ backwards” and she dutifully recited, “W-R-O-N-G-B-A-C-K-W-A-R-D-S.”

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  4. Profile photo of @gail

    @ejourneys, this is sooo funny! I remember when my aunt was sent to a psychologist to be evaluated and they asked her what day it was. She promptly told him the day and date. He said “Oh,no! You’re wrong!” But she was right and so? Albeit my aunt was really losing it? The guy was wrong and lacked – some – credibility…. :)

    Reply
  5. Michelle

    A day late, but this is a good one… My father has ftd, so he doesn’t speak much anymore& is very similar to a toddler. About two weeks ago I walked into the bathroom he shares with my mom because he was just being too quiet.. never a good sign. When I peaked in he was standing in front of the mirror putting mom’s good mascara all over his graying beard. I was in shock, but saw the humor in it. So as opposed to taking it away I just asked what he was doing. He looked at me seriously, held up the mascara and told me, “darkening” and turned to go back to work. I couldn’t help but laugh until I cried.

    Reply
  6. Profile photo of JoJo

    Don’t worry @Michelle, compared to me you’re extremely punctual :-)

    Several entries I could put here like the post I just wrote about Mom wondering why I wasn’t helping her in the bathroom and was it because I couldn’t remember how to use a bathroom myself… however my first thought upon see the post by @Denise was to relabel it “Filterless Fridays”

    One of the mix joys/blessings of dementia is the removal of inhibitions and social filters. At my Mom’s facility there are female residents who refer to me as their “lover” and periodically ask me out on a date. As far as Mom is concerned, if Mom is thinking it, she’ll say it. Polite conversation be da%&#.

    If you are a little on the heavy side and come within eye sight of Mom, she will comment out loud, “OOOO LOOK AT THAT FAT WOMAN OVER THERE, SHE’S NOT EVEN GOING TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE DOOR!” I’ve gotten extremely quick at redirecting Mom, often to save my own embarrassment. I’m not spared from Mom’s uninhibited observations either.

    I need to mention now that Mom and I are African-American… you’ll see why I say this in a minute.

    One of my regular practices when visiting Mom is to agitate her a little. I tease her or otherwise physically pick on her (try to sit on her lap, play with her shoes, poke her gently in the arm, put my cap on her head or take her cap off of hers) I do lots of little things which get her moving, talking and responding. Most importantly the two of us laugh together. I confess we sometimes make quite a scene and will have a crowd of residents and staff looking on in amazement at the “Jo & Mom” show unfolding before them. However I can usually tell when I’ve gone too far, when I crossed over from interacting to irritating. One of Mom’s tells is when she calls me the name:

    Mom will lean over close to me and in a soft conspiratorial tone say, “… you Nigger!”

    Of course I am aghast. “MOM! You eat with that mouth!?!”

    Mom just leans back in her seat, puts her hand over her mouth and chuckles like a kid who just got caught saying a bad word but really thinks the whole thing is quite funny.

    Mom is a product of the South and has lived through experiences I fortunately have not. For much of her life, we were Negro, vice the term of preference today of African-American. I grew up with the use of the terms “Colored” or “Negro” but quickly learned that the other N-word was pejorative. Hip-hop artists and Rap stars not withstanding if I had ever used the word in her presence when she was younger, I’d still be washing the taste of soap out of my mouth. But there it was in all of its unpolitically correct glory and from the mouth of my own Mother no less.

    I never have to wonder what’s on Mom’s mind. Sometimes it’s a blessing that whatever it is, it won’t be there long.

    Reply

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