The clock was set forward an hour last night before bed.
Typically my awakening time is 5am. Somehow even with daylight savings I managed this.
Cobwebs still dangling in my noodled bits, the first moments of today were spent wondering how on earth I could forget the words to "Tommy, the Rock Opera" in front of so many people. It was all the more mortifying when it was me who did the casting.
I cast myself in the role of the Acid Queen. I was kissing one of the boys in the chorus when I realised I was supposed to be on stage.
Faking it doesn't come easily to me. Not in front of thousands of people at least.
I hummed and gesticulated and hoofed it but the words would not come.
Damn!
I was brushing my teeth, still boggling over how stupid I was to forget not only my entrance, but my words too. brush brush brush!
Think think think!
Brush brush brush!
Wait a minute.
Damn it Jim, I am a Nurse not a rockstar!
Hang on! daylight savings is tomorrow!
ouch!
---0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0---
"gather your wits and hold on fast,
your mind must learn to roam,
Just as the gypsy queen must do
You're gonna hit the road.
"My work is done, now look at him!
He's never been more alive.
His head it shakes, his fingers clutch,
watch his body writhe!
"I'm the gypsy, the acid queen
Pay before we start.
I'm the gypsy. I'm guaranteed
to break your little heart!"
---the Who "tommy"
2.4.05
1.4.05
Fools rush in!!
After last night's storm, when March roared out lion-style, today dawned damp but not blustery. That came later.
Playing around with numbers is one of my favourite pursuits. Pondering physics another.
Today I lay abed thinking a good big think!
Too late I remembered the significance of April first!
No jokes for me, not even salt in the sugar.
Just a wonderful peaceful GORGEOUS time of thinking.
Hurrah!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Fortune, seeing that she could not make fools wise, has made them lucky.
Michel Eyquem de Montaigne
Playing around with numbers is one of my favourite pursuits. Pondering physics another.
Today I lay abed thinking a good big think!
Too late I remembered the significance of April first!
No jokes for me, not even salt in the sugar.
Just a wonderful peaceful GORGEOUS time of thinking.
Hurrah!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Fortune, seeing that she could not make fools wise, has made them lucky.
Michel Eyquem de Montaigne
28.3.05
--afterthought
I began my rant on Terminal Sedation intending to address a remark I heard on one of the American news channels by someone proporting to be in the camp of the parents of the unfortunate woman who is in that coma.
This gentleman said to the camera very UNgently:
"We think there is a real danger she (the woman in coma) will be helped along by an overdose of morphine. We understand that is common practise in these cases. To kill people."
How awful to take such a sensitive topic and skewer it in the mainstream media purposely leaving the impression Hospices KILL people.
Is it normal and natural to extend peoples lives far far beyond their natural capacity to live?
Is it moral to allow someone who has been thus extended to live in pain they were never naturally intended to experience?
I don't know what is happening in this world. Everyone wants someone else to PAY for any perceived wrongs and injustices visited on them and/or their families. Or people from their church. Or their religion.
Why don't they direct their energies to help the untold millions, indeed hundreds of millions who could benefit from such media exposure.
bah humbug!
This gentleman said to the camera very UNgently:
"We think there is a real danger she (the woman in coma) will be helped along by an overdose of morphine. We understand that is common practise in these cases. To kill people."
How awful to take such a sensitive topic and skewer it in the mainstream media purposely leaving the impression Hospices KILL people.
Is it normal and natural to extend peoples lives far far beyond their natural capacity to live?
Is it moral to allow someone who has been thus extended to live in pain they were never naturally intended to experience?
I don't know what is happening in this world. Everyone wants someone else to PAY for any perceived wrongs and injustices visited on them and/or their families. Or people from their church. Or their religion.
Why don't they direct their energies to help the untold millions, indeed hundreds of millions who could benefit from such media exposure.
bah humbug!
Terminal sedation as insult
Sometimes the televisions of my clients are on and blaring.
Sometimes I hear things I have no desire to.
Television is one of those pervasive things that I believe the Historians of the future, (should there be one), will weigh in on heavily and to the negative. So much input and so little content.
BAH Television!
Over the last few weeks the media has been full of a case in the United States where a brain-damaged woman in a coma is being fought over. One the one side her husband (a man who has clearly moved on in his life) wishes life-support to cease and the normal course of a life to wind down. Of course this is no normal life following no normal course. This is a man who has a girlfriend and 2 children by the new woman. He has the appearance of poor motives. He wants his wife's life to cease being sustained artificially.
On the other side her parents are fighting to wringe every drop of life out of their daughter.
They have hard feelings towards this man and wish him to sign custody of the woman back to them so that they can care for her. Caring for her means a feeding tube as well as other artifical means of keeping her alive. The parents feel very strongly that their daughter's being allowed to die is murder.
Horrible things are being said and motives assigned to and by otherwise quite reasonable people over a woman who stopped being able to live unassisted 15 years ago.
The parents and their supporters engage people who rant into the television cameras about those who would KILL their daughter. I understand the need to be involved with your child. But this?
God is being invoked, and God help those who are on the "wrong" side.
Which is the wrong side? Why whatever side the current speaker is not on, of course.
By the millions, lives on our planet that CAN be saved are ignored and overlooked in other parts of the world then the affluent west. Even here, poor and disenfranchised folk die in the streets with noone shedding a tear for them.
In the name of God, why not direct your energies and monies to this cause.
All lives are of equal worth. Think before committing thousands of dollars to hyping a cause.
Spend your money where it can do the best good. Perhaps both sides cannot see any greater good than their own.
God has a miracle waiting for this woman.
I suspect it is on the other side of the temporal wall.
Let her go.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The concept of uncontrollable pain is self-fulfilling. Pain only becomes unmanageable when the clinicians involved give up. Although I realize that the world in which we live is real, and therefore imperfect, as a physician I consciously adopt the attitude that there is no such thing as uncontrollable pain, only pain that has yet to be controlled. --- Dr. Byock
Sometimes I hear things I have no desire to.
Television is one of those pervasive things that I believe the Historians of the future, (should there be one), will weigh in on heavily and to the negative. So much input and so little content.
BAH Television!
Over the last few weeks the media has been full of a case in the United States where a brain-damaged woman in a coma is being fought over. One the one side her husband (a man who has clearly moved on in his life) wishes life-support to cease and the normal course of a life to wind down. Of course this is no normal life following no normal course. This is a man who has a girlfriend and 2 children by the new woman. He has the appearance of poor motives. He wants his wife's life to cease being sustained artificially.
On the other side her parents are fighting to wringe every drop of life out of their daughter.
They have hard feelings towards this man and wish him to sign custody of the woman back to them so that they can care for her. Caring for her means a feeding tube as well as other artifical means of keeping her alive. The parents feel very strongly that their daughter's being allowed to die is murder.
Horrible things are being said and motives assigned to and by otherwise quite reasonable people over a woman who stopped being able to live unassisted 15 years ago.
The parents and their supporters engage people who rant into the television cameras about those who would KILL their daughter. I understand the need to be involved with your child. But this?
God is being invoked, and God help those who are on the "wrong" side.
Which is the wrong side? Why whatever side the current speaker is not on, of course.
By the millions, lives on our planet that CAN be saved are ignored and overlooked in other parts of the world then the affluent west. Even here, poor and disenfranchised folk die in the streets with noone shedding a tear for them.
In the name of God, why not direct your energies and monies to this cause.
All lives are of equal worth. Think before committing thousands of dollars to hyping a cause.
Spend your money where it can do the best good. Perhaps both sides cannot see any greater good than their own.
God has a miracle waiting for this woman.
I suspect it is on the other side of the temporal wall.
Let her go.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The concept of uncontrollable pain is self-fulfilling. Pain only becomes unmanageable when the clinicians involved give up. Although I realize that the world in which we live is real, and therefore imperfect, as a physician I consciously adopt the attitude that there is no such thing as uncontrollable pain, only pain that has yet to be controlled. --- Dr. Byock
Ceremonial chocolate
Oh chocolate! Aztec kings must be rolling in their graves as we globally consume their Atavarian food.
MMM chocolate!
Whether as a beverage or a distraction I love my chocolate.
mmmm!
The seabirds were up as early as me today feeding on the roe and seagrasses. Thousands of mouths and not a sound from them except the avian version of burps. Also in the bay were ten or so seals. They were not silent.
The bull seal was diving in the more shallow waters closer to shore noisily showing off for his harem. The females stayed in a tight group. I guess seals are Mormons.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I once thought I was a prophet, until my pills took effect. - 01/11/2004 - from Andy Krause
MMM chocolate!
Whether as a beverage or a distraction I love my chocolate.
mmmm!
The seabirds were up as early as me today feeding on the roe and seagrasses. Thousands of mouths and not a sound from them except the avian version of burps. Also in the bay were ten or so seals. They were not silent.
The bull seal was diving in the more shallow waters closer to shore noisily showing off for his harem. The females stayed in a tight group. I guess seals are Mormons.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I once thought I was a prophet, until my pills took effect. - 01/11/2004 - from Andy Krause
A holiday
Cars cars cars!
There are so many more vehicles on the road this weekend for the Easter holiday.
It slows me down considerably.
I do not mind the being slowed down bit but I do mind the senseless hurry these people seem to be in.
Perhaps Island time is being recalibrated to the rest of the World and I am the last one to notice.
My second client au jour was very confused this morning. This happens every now and then with her and mostly she doesnt get into too much trouble. I see a pattern. When the staffing is shuffled she has a bad patch. This tends to happen around holidays of course. Alot of new names in her book.
This morning there were four hot-cross buns in various pans and ovens. There was the kettle boiled dry even tho it has an auto-shutoff feature which APPARANTLY is disabled if the lid is not secured when the kettle is boiling.
A pile of milkbones littered the floors of the living room and dining room and she was sitting nibbling chocolate cookies. My kind of gal really.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Man is so muddled, so dependent on the things immediately before his eyes, that every day even the most submissive believer can be seen to risk the torments of the afterlife for the smallest pleasure.
Joseph De Maistre
There are so many more vehicles on the road this weekend for the Easter holiday.
It slows me down considerably.
I do not mind the being slowed down bit but I do mind the senseless hurry these people seem to be in.
Perhaps Island time is being recalibrated to the rest of the World and I am the last one to notice.
My second client au jour was very confused this morning. This happens every now and then with her and mostly she doesnt get into too much trouble. I see a pattern. When the staffing is shuffled she has a bad patch. This tends to happen around holidays of course. Alot of new names in her book.
This morning there were four hot-cross buns in various pans and ovens. There was the kettle boiled dry even tho it has an auto-shutoff feature which APPARANTLY is disabled if the lid is not secured when the kettle is boiling.
A pile of milkbones littered the floors of the living room and dining room and she was sitting nibbling chocolate cookies. My kind of gal really.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Man is so muddled, so dependent on the things immediately before his eyes, that every day even the most submissive believer can be seen to risk the torments of the afterlife for the smallest pleasure.
Joseph De Maistre
25.3.05
Double checking!
Alot of my work frustration stems from poor communication around my worksite.
It is the changing nature of my worksite that makes things chaotic.
If someone is discharged from Hospital to Home, the schedule changes.
If someone calls in sick, change.
All of the above times ten and it is chaos.
Today I went in for a new print-out for my own schedule as there have been so many new clients this week all discharged from the Hospital and all requiring care.
I was wandering out the door to my car when I saw a name I do not know.
Back in to read the Nursing notes.
Seeing me amble back in, one of the Nurses in charge of such things asked me who it was I was wondering about. I told her the name and her face went pale.
"That can't be right. Let me see that."
It is a good thing I went back in to check.
The client died 4 days prior to my print-out.
I would have been going there 2 days later.
So six days poste-death I would have been ringing their doorbell.
ugh
That was almost the worst thing.
Thank you God for sparing me the pain I would have caused others.
-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, Oh that you would bless me indeed, and enlarge my border, and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from evil, that it not be to my sorrow! God granted him that which he requested."
1 Chronicles 4:10
It is the changing nature of my worksite that makes things chaotic.
If someone is discharged from Hospital to Home, the schedule changes.
If someone calls in sick, change.
All of the above times ten and it is chaos.
Today I went in for a new print-out for my own schedule as there have been so many new clients this week all discharged from the Hospital and all requiring care.
I was wandering out the door to my car when I saw a name I do not know.
Back in to read the Nursing notes.
Seeing me amble back in, one of the Nurses in charge of such things asked me who it was I was wondering about. I told her the name and her face went pale.
"That can't be right. Let me see that."
It is a good thing I went back in to check.
The client died 4 days prior to my print-out.
I would have been going there 2 days later.
So six days poste-death I would have been ringing their doorbell.
ugh
That was almost the worst thing.
Thank you God for sparing me the pain I would have caused others.
-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-
"Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, Oh that you would bless me indeed, and enlarge my border, and that your hand might be with me, and that you would keep me from evil, that it not be to my sorrow! God granted him that which he requested."
1 Chronicles 4:10
22.3.05
Back home goes Bill
Saw an obituary today for ol' Bill. He had been in a Lodge but was transferred to the regional Hospital where he passed on. I am very glad he was in a setting where 24 hour a day care was possible. Bill, I will always cherish the things you shared with me and keep safe your secrets from the days of your carefree past.
What a man, what a life.
Well-lived indeed!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Tuesdays my schedule sends me North up the long winding highway through the little seaside enclaves of recluses and nouveau riche. One property will be a derelict trailer dropped on the beach and next door a 3 story new palace stands looking down. Changes are everywhere.
The morning air was crisp and clean with a hint of the North Wind chilling things. I took a moment to watch two young eagles fishing. They were in competition with a few hundred gulls.
The gulls were winning. Further up the road, as I came around an S-curve, a postcard perfect view of the mountains, usually obscured by cloud. It was breathtakingly sharp. On my right the whitecaps were pounding the shore; on my left the forest was thinning visibly from last year. Developement is here NOW. I am not sure I am ready for it.
It is one thing to have a thriving economy. Another to have a stable and sustainable economy.
I think I shall soon see everything I value about my lifestyle here threatened and/or destroyed.
It is hard to bear witness.
-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"You shall have joy, or you shall have power, said God; you shall not have both"
Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes
What a man, what a life.
Well-lived indeed!
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Tuesdays my schedule sends me North up the long winding highway through the little seaside enclaves of recluses and nouveau riche. One property will be a derelict trailer dropped on the beach and next door a 3 story new palace stands looking down. Changes are everywhere.
The morning air was crisp and clean with a hint of the North Wind chilling things. I took a moment to watch two young eagles fishing. They were in competition with a few hundred gulls.
The gulls were winning. Further up the road, as I came around an S-curve, a postcard perfect view of the mountains, usually obscured by cloud. It was breathtakingly sharp. On my right the whitecaps were pounding the shore; on my left the forest was thinning visibly from last year. Developement is here NOW. I am not sure I am ready for it.
It is one thing to have a thriving economy. Another to have a stable and sustainable economy.
I think I shall soon see everything I value about my lifestyle here threatened and/or destroyed.
It is hard to bear witness.
-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"You shall have joy, or you shall have power, said God; you shall not have both"
Ralph Waldo Emerson quotes
21.3.05
( Miss) Communications
Waking up to a wonderful Spring day! The second Spring day this year!!
Blossoms and such everywhere. A southerly wind breathing sweet coolness.
Beautiful pleasant Spring day to be spent with a very nice client. The whole day.
The door was (uncharacteristically) locked. The drapes were unopened.
Not even the dog barked as I knocked *and* rang the bell.
Thirty seconds later the door opened and a very pale spouse looked at me and said:
"I see the system doesn't work after all."
My client had cancelled. He is in hospital after a debilitating stroke.
Someone took a message and neglected to pass it on.
Just what the family wanted.... me @ 7:30
and oooo it got better. The entire day was like that.
The fellow I was sent to assist in the shower turned out to be unconscious PPS10
and the next client was recently home from a mandatory 6 weeks in the not so nice places of the Hospital where you go if you just lose hope and can't cope
---sigh---
I DO love my job. I DO love my clients.
I just wish communication in my worksite was better and more effective and efficient.
-----------------
"Effective communications starts with listening." --Robert Gately
Blossoms and such everywhere. A southerly wind breathing sweet coolness.
Beautiful pleasant Spring day to be spent with a very nice client. The whole day.
The door was (uncharacteristically) locked. The drapes were unopened.
Not even the dog barked as I knocked *and* rang the bell.
Thirty seconds later the door opened and a very pale spouse looked at me and said:
"I see the system doesn't work after all."
My client had cancelled. He is in hospital after a debilitating stroke.
Someone took a message and neglected to pass it on.
Just what the family wanted.... me @ 7:30
and oooo it got better. The entire day was like that.
The fellow I was sent to assist in the shower turned out to be unconscious PPS10
and the next client was recently home from a mandatory 6 weeks in the not so nice places of the Hospital where you go if you just lose hope and can't cope
---sigh---
I DO love my job. I DO love my clients.
I just wish communication in my worksite was better and more effective and efficient.
-----------------
"Effective communications starts with listening." --Robert Gately
15.3.05
Happy Birthday Ardans & Webfriends
Along the road and all it's rocky bumps and lurches, I have met some fine, oh so fine folk.
None finer than two men I have never seen face to face but have spoken with for the last ten (oh oif yes, we are in our tenth) years. You might think people you would meet online would be thoroughally unscruptulous. I beg to differ.
Widdy and Knoclue... two pen-names nom-de-plumes aliases... two excellent names for two excellent men.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you both. For years now we have shared our lives, good, bad and pixellated. I am so blessed by the friendships. Thank you.
Arda turns a page today too.
I hope Baldrick returns.
Widdy and I miss him.
------------------------------
“Side by side or miles apart, dear friends are always close to the heart.”
None finer than two men I have never seen face to face but have spoken with for the last ten (oh oif yes, we are in our tenth) years. You might think people you would meet online would be thoroughally unscruptulous. I beg to differ.
Widdy and Knoclue... two pen-names nom-de-plumes aliases... two excellent names for two excellent men.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to you both. For years now we have shared our lives, good, bad and pixellated. I am so blessed by the friendships. Thank you.
Arda turns a page today too.
I hope Baldrick returns.
Widdy and I miss him.
------------------------------
“Side by side or miles apart, dear friends are always close to the heart.”
11.3.05
Consolation
When the spirit is willing yet the flesh is weak;
When pettiness is all around
When being is exhausting
I take consolation in knowing that Einstein was regarded as a hopeless student by his teachers.
He also said "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."
I often think how wonderful it is that he was pondering on spirit not mind....
How many people would have named Einstein as a great spirit?
On the other hand he would make almost anyones great minds list.
Albert Einstein: no wonderful Marilyn Monroe loved you.
When pettiness is all around
When being is exhausting
I take consolation in knowing that Einstein was regarded as a hopeless student by his teachers.
He also said "Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds."
I often think how wonderful it is that he was pondering on spirit not mind....
How many people would have named Einstein as a great spirit?
On the other hand he would make almost anyones great minds list.
Albert Einstein: no wonderful Marilyn Monroe loved you.
7.3.05
Emerald groves, mossy limbs.
Some days I know that God is good. Other days I live that.
A better soul than mine would be able to show the magnificence of the Creator through their lifestyle without the perks. So far, I seem to notice more on the very good days.
I am blessed with a new client. This gentleman is just past retirement age and battling Parkinsons's Disease. It has been a long and bloody war thus far with a few burnout casualties. After all this is a disease associated with old age, not someone in their 50s. Michael J. Fox and his Holiness the Pope notwithstanding, it is a quiet and nasty thing to develop but it does have a strange blessing. In some persons, my client being one of them, it arrives alone and no pain accompanies it.
When I come to call, my new friend's spouse goes out for a few hours comfortable that someone capable is looking after her beloved. I hope I get to keep this client for awhile. It is so nice to be needed AND wanted AND appreciated. I know I should not need such affirmations, but I am only human after all.
We spend rather a full day doing his regular routine of things.
I have become acquainted with the trails around this area. Not through any effort of my own, but through the days with this man. He has not allowed his disease to define his outdoor treks and we go for an hour or so hiking through the backtrails near his home. Over bridges and past rippling creeks where alder bow down from limbs green with moss, we walk and appreciate the beauty we are blessed to live with.
I am so thankful to have this experience.
I pray that my inner self can become quieter with each trek on the trails.
=======================
Every saint has a past and every sinner a future.
Oscar Wilde
A better soul than mine would be able to show the magnificence of the Creator through their lifestyle without the perks. So far, I seem to notice more on the very good days.
I am blessed with a new client. This gentleman is just past retirement age and battling Parkinsons's Disease. It has been a long and bloody war thus far with a few burnout casualties. After all this is a disease associated with old age, not someone in their 50s. Michael J. Fox and his Holiness the Pope notwithstanding, it is a quiet and nasty thing to develop but it does have a strange blessing. In some persons, my client being one of them, it arrives alone and no pain accompanies it.
When I come to call, my new friend's spouse goes out for a few hours comfortable that someone capable is looking after her beloved. I hope I get to keep this client for awhile. It is so nice to be needed AND wanted AND appreciated. I know I should not need such affirmations, but I am only human after all.
We spend rather a full day doing his regular routine of things.
I have become acquainted with the trails around this area. Not through any effort of my own, but through the days with this man. He has not allowed his disease to define his outdoor treks and we go for an hour or so hiking through the backtrails near his home. Over bridges and past rippling creeks where alder bow down from limbs green with moss, we walk and appreciate the beauty we are blessed to live with.
I am so thankful to have this experience.
I pray that my inner self can become quieter with each trek on the trails.
=======================
Every saint has a past and every sinner a future.
Oscar Wilde
Freud resurfaces
Ah yes the slip of the tongue that tells the truth.
I had a good one today. Whilst discussing love and marriage with a friend today, we agreed that learning from the past is an excellent idea in the marital arena. When asked if I would consider marrying (again) I heard myself say:
"Oh no. I like to think I have learned from my escapes."
I had a good one today. Whilst discussing love and marriage with a friend today, we agreed that learning from the past is an excellent idea in the marital arena. When asked if I would consider marrying (again) I heard myself say:
"Oh no. I like to think I have learned from my escapes."
5.3.05
Sleepy time memories
It has been such an eventful year and we are not yet well and truly into March!
Busy-ness suits me however this is not the sort of busy I like being.
Now I am a glorified babysitter to my own elder parent ...who is undergoing a very nasty divorce.
Unfortunatly once two people say: "I do" there is not much you can do to intervene.
At first I was vainly hoping I was mistaken in the person's character.
My discernment in such matters is generally pretty bang on the money.
As time went on it became obvious this forceful personality now sharing a name and a family with me and mine, did not just dislike us, ALL of us, rather the emotion emanating was bitterness and anger. A strong and active hate.
My parent being a Bible-believing Christian felt the best thing was a legal separation.
I, being a realist who has seen too many Mental Health situations go undiagnosed with poor results, wanted something more clinically sound. There was verbal and mental abuse ongoing.
The effect was wearing away the fragile health of my parent.
Still, we all have free will.
Against the advise of every Mental Health Professional we could bring on board, a very mild suit for legal separation was brought. The general consensus was the best thing to do would be to change the locks and get a restraining order and have a third party on hand when confronting the person that they were being asked to continue elsewhere.
When there is abuse in a home and the party who is being abused does not wish to disclose it,
freeing them of their bonds can be difficult. We are still not free. 15 motions have been filed in the Supreme Court all about money.... and still no divorce. The motions of course are filed by the abuser who denies any marriage breakdown.
When the marriage took place, after a courtship of 27 days and an elopement, my silly old romantic fool of a parent was so ectastic thinking how love had once again come along.
I had a rather different picture as the new person in our life blathered on and on to me that this marriage was for love and love only. God had brought them together and etc etc. I had to turn my face away when they CLAIMED to think my parent was on welfare. I guess the new truck was the giveaway on that one. Or possibly all the stories around the church about how spoiled my deceased parent had been by the one still living.
I bit it. For the first year things were all right. The second year was bad. The rest have been hell. Still, I know that it was a marriage, a BAD marriage but a marriage.
It never really upset my guts until the lies started;' the nasty meanness, the slander and now in Court Papers the libel. One-sided and so very unwarranted.
This person will get approximatly $5000 a month indexed (!) for life once my parent dies REGARDLESS of their marital state. Naturally my parent living on is a huge inconvenience.
It is just disgusting to me that they get anything at all.
Of course my parent is living elsewhere now for safety's sake, while the abuser enjoys the oceanfront home my parents worked so hard to retire to. In between little teas and inviting people over to admire the decorating the chief amusement seems to be telling people how awful we are and how evil and sick we have been.
I work HARD for my money.
I don't make any $5000 a month nor do I have any hope of a pension anywhere near this.
Some days I just feel like packing my bags and moving far far away.
Where I dont run into this professional inheritor, serial *special friend* and stinker.
I know God will be the judge. My heart is black when I think on this.
sigh ....
Why can't I be a bigger person than this?
Social injustice has always been my hottest spot.
Now there is a furnace right in my back yard fuelled by lies.
9-1-1 I need your help.
-----------------------
" I do know that the slickest way to lie is to tell the right amount of truth - then to shut up." Robert Heinlein
Busy-ness suits me however this is not the sort of busy I like being.
Now I am a glorified babysitter to my own elder parent ...who is undergoing a very nasty divorce.
Unfortunatly once two people say: "I do" there is not much you can do to intervene.
At first I was vainly hoping I was mistaken in the person's character.
My discernment in such matters is generally pretty bang on the money.
As time went on it became obvious this forceful personality now sharing a name and a family with me and mine, did not just dislike us, ALL of us, rather the emotion emanating was bitterness and anger. A strong and active hate.
My parent being a Bible-believing Christian felt the best thing was a legal separation.
I, being a realist who has seen too many Mental Health situations go undiagnosed with poor results, wanted something more clinically sound. There was verbal and mental abuse ongoing.
The effect was wearing away the fragile health of my parent.
Still, we all have free will.
Against the advise of every Mental Health Professional we could bring on board, a very mild suit for legal separation was brought. The general consensus was the best thing to do would be to change the locks and get a restraining order and have a third party on hand when confronting the person that they were being asked to continue elsewhere.
When there is abuse in a home and the party who is being abused does not wish to disclose it,
freeing them of their bonds can be difficult. We are still not free. 15 motions have been filed in the Supreme Court all about money.... and still no divorce. The motions of course are filed by the abuser who denies any marriage breakdown.
When the marriage took place, after a courtship of 27 days and an elopement, my silly old romantic fool of a parent was so ectastic thinking how love had once again come along.
I had a rather different picture as the new person in our life blathered on and on to me that this marriage was for love and love only. God had brought them together and etc etc. I had to turn my face away when they CLAIMED to think my parent was on welfare. I guess the new truck was the giveaway on that one. Or possibly all the stories around the church about how spoiled my deceased parent had been by the one still living.
I bit it. For the first year things were all right. The second year was bad. The rest have been hell. Still, I know that it was a marriage, a BAD marriage but a marriage.
It never really upset my guts until the lies started;' the nasty meanness, the slander and now in Court Papers the libel. One-sided and so very unwarranted.
This person will get approximatly $5000 a month indexed (!) for life once my parent dies REGARDLESS of their marital state. Naturally my parent living on is a huge inconvenience.
It is just disgusting to me that they get anything at all.
Of course my parent is living elsewhere now for safety's sake, while the abuser enjoys the oceanfront home my parents worked so hard to retire to. In between little teas and inviting people over to admire the decorating the chief amusement seems to be telling people how awful we are and how evil and sick we have been.
I work HARD for my money.
I don't make any $5000 a month nor do I have any hope of a pension anywhere near this.
Some days I just feel like packing my bags and moving far far away.
Where I dont run into this professional inheritor, serial *special friend* and stinker.
I know God will be the judge. My heart is black when I think on this.
sigh ....
Why can't I be a bigger person than this?
Social injustice has always been my hottest spot.
Now there is a furnace right in my back yard fuelled by lies.
9-1-1 I need your help.
-----------------------
" I do know that the slickest way to lie is to tell the right amount of truth - then to shut up." Robert Heinlein
1.3.05
Chicken pot pie
The language of metaphor is upon me again.
This time it is not a palliating client but one with a very serious dementia.
It is a lovely little woman in her 70s who has lost a few things along the way.
She knows where she lives and never would run away but she has lost alot of language and uses certain phrases for things that are anyone's guess. I love puzzles so I am pretty good with these sorts of situations.
Chicken pot pie was a hard one. I could not quite get what she was trying to tell me.
She would take me down the hall saying the phrase over and over and then she would motion me into the back bedroom and close the door. Inevitably, her husband, who is very much not demented would come in and ask if everything was all right. We would return to the other room and she would still be muttering about chicken pot pie.
He went out out the home for a few hours a visit or two ago. She grabbed my hand and said very clearly: "do you want chicken pot pie?"
"That would be very nice." I said.
"No. Not nice. It is a not nice day."
I had committed some sort of miscommunication.
"Can you show me chicken pot pie?"
"Yes yes. My husband doesnt buy me rings you know."
"You have a beautiful home."
"He doesnt love me. He says he loves me but look, chicken pot pie. He says, so I said, Mother doesnt like it, chicken pot pie."
She took the hem of her robe and lifted it up. Above her knees on her upper leg was a very nasty bruise. "Chicken pot pie"
Sometimes, I just don't know what to think.
Can you imagine me getting a Social Worker involved on that scenario?
I would like to but alas, the best prevention is involvement and we are in there now.
I hope there are no more chicken pot pies.
I hope she can relax and know someone is looking out for her.
Of course this could be a completely fabricated extrapolation on my part.
But somehow, I do not think so.
---------------------------
"To push advantages too far is neither generous nor just."Johnson
This time it is not a palliating client but one with a very serious dementia.
It is a lovely little woman in her 70s who has lost a few things along the way.
She knows where she lives and never would run away but she has lost alot of language and uses certain phrases for things that are anyone's guess. I love puzzles so I am pretty good with these sorts of situations.
Chicken pot pie was a hard one. I could not quite get what she was trying to tell me.
She would take me down the hall saying the phrase over and over and then she would motion me into the back bedroom and close the door. Inevitably, her husband, who is very much not demented would come in and ask if everything was all right. We would return to the other room and she would still be muttering about chicken pot pie.
He went out out the home for a few hours a visit or two ago. She grabbed my hand and said very clearly: "do you want chicken pot pie?"
"That would be very nice." I said.
"No. Not nice. It is a not nice day."
I had committed some sort of miscommunication.
"Can you show me chicken pot pie?"
"Yes yes. My husband doesnt buy me rings you know."
"You have a beautiful home."
"He doesnt love me. He says he loves me but look, chicken pot pie. He says, so I said, Mother doesnt like it, chicken pot pie."
She took the hem of her robe and lifted it up. Above her knees on her upper leg was a very nasty bruise. "Chicken pot pie"
Sometimes, I just don't know what to think.
Can you imagine me getting a Social Worker involved on that scenario?
I would like to but alas, the best prevention is involvement and we are in there now.
I hope there are no more chicken pot pies.
I hope she can relax and know someone is looking out for her.
Of course this could be a completely fabricated extrapolation on my part.
But somehow, I do not think so.
---------------------------
"To push advantages too far is neither generous nor just."Johnson
BACK BACK BACK!!!!
I am back!
Hurrah hurrah!
I had forgotten my password forever and ever. Or at least since I had to format my harddrive.
Naturally I dont write these things down. Isn't that what text files are for?
Backup? what backup? I had everything backed up on computer #2 which also got infected and also had to be formatted. A pox on hackers everywhere.
In an inspirational moment while emailing a friend about the loss of my passwords, I suddenly recalled what word I used to use for everything. My passwords used to contain the same word in every single application requiring a password. This word was backwards and had a numeral on either end. WHen I would forget all I had to do was try different numerals. In a burst of inspiration I did just that and VOILA. Here we are. Back in the blogger again. Whee!!
This post is for Widdy. Hello Wids and thanks for that email.
Without you I would never have remembered.
Bless your hobbity heart.
:)
Hurrah hurrah!
I had forgotten my password forever and ever. Or at least since I had to format my harddrive.
Naturally I dont write these things down. Isn't that what text files are for?
Backup? what backup? I had everything backed up on computer #2 which also got infected and also had to be formatted. A pox on hackers everywhere.
In an inspirational moment while emailing a friend about the loss of my passwords, I suddenly recalled what word I used to use for everything. My passwords used to contain the same word in every single application requiring a password. This word was backwards and had a numeral on either end. WHen I would forget all I had to do was try different numerals. In a burst of inspiration I did just that and VOILA. Here we are. Back in the blogger again. Whee!!
This post is for Widdy. Hello Wids and thanks for that email.
Without you I would never have remembered.
Bless your hobbity heart.
:)
30.1.05
Sunday buggery Sunday
Oh bleh. Sunday again. Start the day with .... cranky lady.
How annoying it is to be annoyed. bleh
I think I might refuse this client. It is most unhelpful indeed.
How annoying it is to be annoyed. bleh
I think I might refuse this client. It is most unhelpful indeed.
21.1.05
Connectivity and the art of remaining silent
There are times when I marvel at the way in which energy focused can pull things in.
What other explanation could there be for encounters that are so utterly coincidental as to defy description? It can be staggering.
For years now, my mind has been haunted by a film that rang so true to me I found myself fascinatingly repulsed. Many other people have watched this film on my say-so and found it disturbing. If you asked me why it affected me so, I am not sure I could say with any degree of certainty. It was a film that left it's mark.
This week I had a client pour out his heart and soul to me.
What are the odds he knows the filmmaker? And what odds the film is based largely on this man's family? And he HATES the filmmaker.
I would too, if it were my family.
-------------------
Emergency call-out to an end-of-life client.
House full of people in varying stages of despair.
I am so thankful I was of use.
Everyone in the room but the man in the bed.. I have been.
-------------------
Day off. Out and about to the Thrift. I found me another great find.
a FIND!
A beautiful sterling implement. I shall date it and comment in awhile.
------------
What other explanation could there be for encounters that are so utterly coincidental as to defy description? It can be staggering.
For years now, my mind has been haunted by a film that rang so true to me I found myself fascinatingly repulsed. Many other people have watched this film on my say-so and found it disturbing. If you asked me why it affected me so, I am not sure I could say with any degree of certainty. It was a film that left it's mark.
This week I had a client pour out his heart and soul to me.
What are the odds he knows the filmmaker? And what odds the film is based largely on this man's family? And he HATES the filmmaker.
I would too, if it were my family.
-------------------
Emergency call-out to an end-of-life client.
House full of people in varying stages of despair.
I am so thankful I was of use.
Everyone in the room but the man in the bed.. I have been.
-------------------
Day off. Out and about to the Thrift. I found me another great find.
a FIND!
A beautiful sterling implement. I shall date it and comment in awhile.
------------
17.1.05
Perception is everything!
I had a call from an old friend.
In the course of the conversation he mentioned my prior incarnation as an "Ostentacious woman".
Not the word I would have chosen to describe myself.
It gave me pause primarily because of something I was told a little time ago. A co-worker of mine ran into a dear friend and once they established me as a mutual point of reference, my dear friend reported that the co-worker said:
"You know, she should be an actress. She should be on stage. I just don't know why she isn't."
My dear friend found this to be endlessly amusing and kept his thoughts to himself until he could gleefully call me and hold forth.
It never really crosses my mind when *I* meet people what they should be. What I think they should be doing with their lives. I just like people alot and love to hear their stories. It is a fascination and a passion. I love people. I love feeling useful. The idea of my *ostentaciousness* was alien to my primal self-concept however it brought a little idea to mind.
I called a few people and in the course of our conversations asked them how they would describe me to others in just a word or two.
People close to me in my very younger years said:"Crazy. In a good way of course."
--- uhm, thanks. I think
People from my twenties said: "Outrageous. Fun. " Three people used those words.
---- uhm, ok.
People from my early thirties: "Tres jolie." "flambuoyant" "Fun"
----- still not quite my own perceptions but hmm, okay.
People now: "Confident." "Fun" "Joyful"
and yes... "Sparkley". "Bright". "Showey."
And what does showey mean anyway? Is it a comment on personality or ornamentations?
Is this evolution or devolution.
Hah.
If I was describing myself in a word I would say "content".
I also got *Flambuoyant* alot. I dont think of myself that way.
I am just a magpie who loves shiny things.
Shiny me.
Shiny shiny.
----------------
Fierce passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea;
But calm content and peace we find,
When, Lord, we turn to thee. ~ William Cowper, 1779, from Olney Hymns, vol. 1, hymn 131
In the course of the conversation he mentioned my prior incarnation as an "Ostentacious woman".
Not the word I would have chosen to describe myself.
It gave me pause primarily because of something I was told a little time ago. A co-worker of mine ran into a dear friend and once they established me as a mutual point of reference, my dear friend reported that the co-worker said:
"You know, she should be an actress. She should be on stage. I just don't know why she isn't."
My dear friend found this to be endlessly amusing and kept his thoughts to himself until he could gleefully call me and hold forth.
It never really crosses my mind when *I* meet people what they should be. What I think they should be doing with their lives. I just like people alot and love to hear their stories. It is a fascination and a passion. I love people. I love feeling useful. The idea of my *ostentaciousness* was alien to my primal self-concept however it brought a little idea to mind.
I called a few people and in the course of our conversations asked them how they would describe me to others in just a word or two.
People close to me in my very younger years said:"Crazy. In a good way of course."
--- uhm, thanks. I think
People from my twenties said: "Outrageous. Fun. " Three people used those words.
---- uhm, ok.
People from my early thirties: "Tres jolie." "flambuoyant" "Fun"
----- still not quite my own perceptions but hmm, okay.
People now: "Confident." "Fun" "Joyful"
and yes... "Sparkley". "Bright". "Showey."
And what does showey mean anyway? Is it a comment on personality or ornamentations?
Is this evolution or devolution.
Hah.
If I was describing myself in a word I would say "content".
I also got *Flambuoyant* alot. I dont think of myself that way.
I am just a magpie who loves shiny things.
Shiny me.
Shiny shiny.
----------------
Fierce passions discompose the mind,
As tempests vex the sea;
But calm content and peace we find,
When, Lord, we turn to thee. ~ William Cowper, 1779, from Olney Hymns, vol. 1, hymn 131
16.1.05
Med Check
Just a med check.
A medication reminder.
"Hello Sir. This is your friendly evening medication reminder visit."
--client gets meds. Client takes meds. I sign his book. He signs my book.
In and out. 5 or ten minutes tops.
I had forgotten to drive by this home to see where it was in the daylight.
Generally I do not work out of my posting but there is another snowfall today making certain areas inaccessible and some workers cannot get to work for love nor money.
Being a reasonable person I took MY share of extra clients. I did 3 more and the last one was this med reminder.
Driving along the beautiful homes road and trying desparatly to see through the fog from the now-melting snow to the house numbers with little success. I would drive a few hundred feet, put my flashers on, dash from the car to the driveway entrances and look for the number. (repeat) Finally I got my address and was rather surprised to see the driveway unploughed. A very long driveway at that. I left my car on the roadway and hiked on in.
The home was large and looked like an outsize chalet. It was also dark. A very large dog began to bark and then the door opened to a gentleman in his housecoat. He was somewhat dishevelled and offered an apology and a greeting.
"I cannot see. May I turn a light on please?"
"Certainly." He flicked a switch to reveal a huge kitchen. There were three very large paintings on the walls. I knew right away the artist was in front of me.
"What do you see my dear?"
"I see emotion. Alot of emotion."
"Come through here. I want to show you something. What do you see in here?"
He opened the door to a very large living room/dining room. The walls were pumpkin coloured and again on each wall a huge canvas was on display. The calibre of craftsmanship was very high. The works owed alot to Picasso but had a very strong flavour of the gentleman by my side. He was watching me intently.
"I could care less what you think of them. Just tell me what you see."
I looked at the first. It was perplexing. And complicated. I was not sure what I saw.
The second and third were easy. People at the beach. Children playing in the sun.
"I see joy."
He turned me to the large canvas the complicated one.
"And here? What is this here?"
I really could not put a word to it. It was a woman. Two or three poses justaposed onto each other. She was blank. She was angry. She was uncertain. I was uncertain!
"Well? What do you see?"
I still could not form a response.
"This is LOVE. This is the woman I loved. I married. I had three children with."
No wonder I couldnt make sense of it. Love has always made me so.
"She is also the women who left me. Who had enough of it and left. I don't blame her."
I could feel the sorrow in the air.
"Come here and see this"
He took me to his studio. It was dark and he shut the door after me.
I had a dim awareness that this perhaps was not the wisest course of events.
But art and artists are very familiar to me.
I did, however, notice that ALOT of the paintings were nudes. Alot of them were female nudes.
"What do you see in here?"
Before I could answer he said: "This is my life. You are surrounded by MY life."
Yes, I certainly was.
"I see a life dedicated to art."
"And what do you think about artists?"
What indeed. If he only knew what he was asking and who he is asking it of.
What indeed do I think of artists?
"I think it is a calling and a demand. You do not choose art. It chooses you."
"NOONE would choose this life." He was almost crying.
"The pain of it is unbearable at times."
Yes, I know.
Surrounding me were newspaper clippings and art show notices.; sketches and notebooks stuffed full with musings. I saw thousands of canvasses stored. I saw a life.
"You are showing me a HUGE life."
"This is me. This was me. Before this medical happening. I am lost in it now."
He saw my book. He saw my name.
"Are you related to. "
"Very distantly. We share a common ancestor, in fact its my great-great-grandmother. Tenuous relationship at best."
"I never did like mathematics. Did you read his books?"
"Is this a test? its HISTORY. And no. I never much cared for his books either. I found them largely pendantic and boring. The premise is interesting. The execution of ideas ponderous. Not my cuppa."
"Yes yes quite right. It was a test. haha! History indeed."
We both laughed.
"But you are not related to the Royal family are you?"
"Oh horrors. I sure hope not."
He roared with laughter.
Suddenly he looked at me appraising me... mene mene tekel...?
"What do you really do?"
"hmm?"
"Oh you do more than this, You are more than this. What do you do?"
"I suppose I write."
"Yes that fits. I can see that."
He was satisified.
He showed me a few more things and then suddenly he knew it was time for me to go. Past time really. Past time plus 30 minutes.
"Next time we will resume where we left off."
"This is a beautiful home Sir."
"It is beautiful with your energy in it. You fill up the space with happiness."
He took my hand as if to shake it and then grasped it tightly.
I looked at him quizzicly.
"I am really rather quite a snob." He said looking intently at me again.
"You are?"
"I like the idea you are related to
I laughed. It was a funny thing to say.
But you know I am a little bit that way myself and not half as honest about it.
"Ok I have to go now."
He saw me to the walkway, bathrobe and all.
Thank GOD I am not his bathgirl.
Rogues and artists..... not like the Scribe so genteel and refined. This is more raw more primal more unpredictable. Even if he was 100 years old I would not want to be his bathgirl.
---------------
Artists can color the sky red because they know it's blue. Those of us who aren't artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we're stupid.
- Jules Feiffer
I remember Francis Bacon would say that he felt he was giving art what he thought it previously lacked. With me, it's what Yeats called the fascination with what's difficult. I'm only trying to do what I can't do.
Lucian Feud
A medication reminder.
"Hello Sir. This is your friendly evening medication reminder visit."
--client gets meds. Client takes meds. I sign his book. He signs my book.
In and out. 5 or ten minutes tops.
I had forgotten to drive by this home to see where it was in the daylight.
Generally I do not work out of my posting but there is another snowfall today making certain areas inaccessible and some workers cannot get to work for love nor money.
Being a reasonable person I took MY share of extra clients. I did 3 more and the last one was this med reminder.
Driving along the beautiful homes road and trying desparatly to see through the fog from the now-melting snow to the house numbers with little success. I would drive a few hundred feet, put my flashers on, dash from the car to the driveway entrances and look for the number. (repeat) Finally I got my address and was rather surprised to see the driveway unploughed. A very long driveway at that. I left my car on the roadway and hiked on in.
The home was large and looked like an outsize chalet. It was also dark. A very large dog began to bark and then the door opened to a gentleman in his housecoat. He was somewhat dishevelled and offered an apology and a greeting.
"I cannot see. May I turn a light on please?"
"Certainly." He flicked a switch to reveal a huge kitchen. There were three very large paintings on the walls. I knew right away the artist was in front of me.
"What do you see my dear?"
"I see emotion. Alot of emotion."
"Come through here. I want to show you something. What do you see in here?"
He opened the door to a very large living room/dining room. The walls were pumpkin coloured and again on each wall a huge canvas was on display. The calibre of craftsmanship was very high. The works owed alot to Picasso but had a very strong flavour of the gentleman by my side. He was watching me intently.
"I could care less what you think of them. Just tell me what you see."
I looked at the first. It was perplexing. And complicated. I was not sure what I saw.
The second and third were easy. People at the beach. Children playing in the sun.
"I see joy."
He turned me to the large canvas the complicated one.
"And here? What is this here?"
I really could not put a word to it. It was a woman. Two or three poses justaposed onto each other. She was blank. She was angry. She was uncertain. I was uncertain!
"Well? What do you see?"
I still could not form a response.
"This is LOVE. This is the woman I loved. I married. I had three children with."
No wonder I couldnt make sense of it. Love has always made me so.
"She is also the women who left me. Who had enough of it and left. I don't blame her."
I could feel the sorrow in the air.
"Come here and see this"
He took me to his studio. It was dark and he shut the door after me.
I had a dim awareness that this perhaps was not the wisest course of events.
But art and artists are very familiar to me.
I did, however, notice that ALOT of the paintings were nudes. Alot of them were female nudes.
"What do you see in here?"
Before I could answer he said: "This is my life. You are surrounded by MY life."
Yes, I certainly was.
"I see a life dedicated to art."
"And what do you think about artists?"
What indeed. If he only knew what he was asking and who he is asking it of.
What indeed do I think of artists?
"I think it is a calling and a demand. You do not choose art. It chooses you."
"NOONE would choose this life." He was almost crying.
"The pain of it is unbearable at times."
Yes, I know.
Surrounding me were newspaper clippings and art show notices.; sketches and notebooks stuffed full with musings. I saw thousands of canvasses stored. I saw a life.
"You are showing me a HUGE life."
"This is me. This was me. Before this medical happening. I am lost in it now."
He saw my book. He saw my name.
"Are you related to
"Very distantly. We share a common ancestor, in fact its my great-great-grandmother. Tenuous relationship at best."
"I never did like mathematics. Did you read his books?"
"Is this a test? its HISTORY. And no. I never much cared for his books either. I found them largely pendantic and boring. The premise is interesting. The execution of ideas ponderous. Not my cuppa."
"Yes yes quite right. It was a test. haha! History indeed."
We both laughed.
"But you are not related to the Royal family are you?"
"Oh horrors. I sure hope not."
He roared with laughter.
Suddenly he looked at me appraising me... mene mene tekel...?
"What do you really do?"
"hmm?"
"Oh you do more than this, You are more than this. What do you do?"
"I suppose I write."
"Yes that fits. I can see that."
He was satisified.
He showed me a few more things and then suddenly he knew it was time for me to go. Past time really. Past time plus 30 minutes.
"Next time we will resume where we left off."
"This is a beautiful home Sir."
"It is beautiful with your energy in it. You fill up the space with happiness."
He took my hand as if to shake it and then grasped it tightly.
I looked at him quizzicly.
"I am really rather quite a snob." He said looking intently at me again.
"You are?"
"I like the idea you are related to
I laughed. It was a funny thing to say.
But you know I am a little bit that way myself and not half as honest about it.
"Ok I have to go now."
He saw me to the walkway, bathrobe and all.
Thank GOD I am not his bathgirl.
Rogues and artists..... not like the Scribe so genteel and refined. This is more raw more primal more unpredictable. Even if he was 100 years old I would not want to be his bathgirl.
---------------
Artists can color the sky red because they know it's blue. Those of us who aren't artists must color things the way they really are or people might think we're stupid.
- Jules Feiffer
I remember Francis Bacon would say that he felt he was giving art what he thought it previously lacked. With me, it's what Yeats called the fascination with what's difficult. I'm only trying to do what I can't do.
Lucian Feud
13.1.05
~*~ Beddie bye byes Bill ~*~
It always starts with a fall. The falling thing seems to start a process of diminishmentin so many people. It is not the fall itself that it the hazard, it is the combination of a cogniscience of fraility and a a loss of self-confidence. Bill is in this category.
There are client-specific instructions posted in every client's home.
Bill's clearly read : "settle client back into bed before leaving after respite block"
In case you might not see them at a glance they are, in his case, highlited in PINK highliter.
Still, someone knew better and left him up. Bill got up from his chair, walked into his bedroom and then fell down hard on the carpet. Being Bill he naturally thought his wife could get him up.
Thankfully she refused. His plan 2 was to get her to call the neighbour. Thankfully the neighbour also was unable to get him up. Finally he relented and *allowed* an ambulance to be called.
By the time they arrived Bill had wangled himself across the floor to near his pole. One leg was twisted beneath his body.
Being Bill he elected NOT to go to Hospital. Being trained Attendants, they ambulance people took his wife to another room and carefully explained that she was obliged to sign a form saying she was the person responsible for his care and she understood that leaving him in the home meant that she took on this task. Alas, she signed.
The closest I can get to saying "Are you CRAZY? Send him to Hospital!" is to gently say:
"Ask your Doctor about convalescent care."
Perhaps this time she will. I like Bill very much. I understand his desire to be at home.
I know that he doesn't mean to be snarly and cranky and demanding of his wife.
I also know that it is time for her to retire too.
------------
One of my hardest life lessons has been realizing that holding on to a person, a goal or a dream can be destructive.
There are client-specific instructions posted in every client's home.
Bill's clearly read : "settle client back into bed before leaving after respite block"
In case you might not see them at a glance they are, in his case, highlited in PINK highliter.
Still, someone knew better and left him up. Bill got up from his chair, walked into his bedroom and then fell down hard on the carpet. Being Bill he naturally thought his wife could get him up.
Thankfully she refused. His plan 2 was to get her to call the neighbour. Thankfully the neighbour also was unable to get him up. Finally he relented and *allowed* an ambulance to be called.
By the time they arrived Bill had wangled himself across the floor to near his pole. One leg was twisted beneath his body.
Being Bill he elected NOT to go to Hospital. Being trained Attendants, they ambulance people took his wife to another room and carefully explained that she was obliged to sign a form saying she was the person responsible for his care and she understood that leaving him in the home meant that she took on this task. Alas, she signed.
The closest I can get to saying "Are you CRAZY? Send him to Hospital!" is to gently say:
"Ask your Doctor about convalescent care."
Perhaps this time she will. I like Bill very much. I understand his desire to be at home.
I know that he doesn't mean to be snarly and cranky and demanding of his wife.
I also know that it is time for her to retire too.
------------
One of my hardest life lessons has been realizing that holding on to a person, a goal or a dream can be destructive.
Kirsti A. Dyer, MD, MS
12.1.05
It's not the cough that carries you off...
'It's not the cough that carries you off, it's the coffin they carry you off in.'
At least that's the way I heard it said.
I was in the Thrift and people were hacking and coughing.
At a client's, as I bent over to tuck a sling under he coughed and sneezed in my eyes.
In the line-up at the grocerteria, more people coughing.
For pity's sake people STAY HOME.
Now it is ME coughing tonight and most probably there will be no work for me tomorrow.
I do not believe in spreading germs among my clientelle THAT particular way.
bleh
--------------
I know two kinds of audience only -
one coughing and one not coughing. ~ Artur Schnabe
At least that's the way I heard it said.
I was in the Thrift and people were hacking and coughing.
At a client's, as I bent over to tuck a sling under he coughed and sneezed in my eyes.
In the line-up at the grocerteria, more people coughing.
For pity's sake people STAY HOME.
Now it is ME coughing tonight and most probably there will be no work for me tomorrow.
I do not believe in spreading germs among my clientelle THAT particular way.
bleh
--------------
I know two kinds of audience only -
one coughing and one not coughing. ~ Artur Schnabe
11.1.05
Thrifty thrifty me
Everyone has their addictions; mine is to thrift stores.
It helps to live in a place where there is one of the VERY best Thrift stores anywhere.
It helps to work a shift that finishes early enough to enable me to stroll through the store on my way home.
It helps to live nice and close to the store so travelling there is not a problem.
Lucky lucky me.
I have been overly-blessed by this pursuit, especially lately.
I have a very good eye and I am very quick. This store is not my own private little treasure trove. There are legions of dealers every single day picking through the same things I am. All the more reason to feel incredibly blessed.
Yesterday I found a PALM: A Visor Edge. It was under glass in the Boutique section where the better stuff is. I thought my eyes were deceiving me. After asking to see it and asking the woman behind the counter what it was, she offered to plug it in and check.
"The plug doesn't seem to work"
I realised it was a USB plug and said:
"Just put it in a bag. For $3.99 I will take it home and figure it out."
Yes, that is correct. Three dollars and ninety-nine cents.
Go me!!
This is not the only thing I have gotten in the last while.
My philosophy is to buy better, donate good. I do not hoarde, I share.
I also believe my income is a gift from God to use wisely. So you bet I donate what I have when I find something better. This willingness to releash I truly believe brings more things my way.
Last week I got a futon that has just been reupholstered in a beautiful tapestry brocade.
Forty-five dollars. --whee!!
This enabled me to give my couch to someone who required one.
I got a lamp for 4.99 a few weeks ago that needed a shade. Got the shade yesterday for 3.99
This is a floorstand lamp of brass. It is beautiful.
Usually it is clocks. I have bought crystal clocks for 2 dollars. Vintage phones for 15 dollars.
Gilt mirrors for five dollars. And on and on.
Today I am just happy about the PALM. That is just the best score this year.
Well, aside from the Swiarokski crystal chandelier I got for $129.
*whee!
-------------
"I like shiny things, even if they don't physically shine. It takes a shiny thing collector to understand that concept."
http://lorry.org/quotes.html
It helps to live in a place where there is one of the VERY best Thrift stores anywhere.
It helps to work a shift that finishes early enough to enable me to stroll through the store on my way home.
It helps to live nice and close to the store so travelling there is not a problem.
Lucky lucky me.
I have been overly-blessed by this pursuit, especially lately.
I have a very good eye and I am very quick. This store is not my own private little treasure trove. There are legions of dealers every single day picking through the same things I am. All the more reason to feel incredibly blessed.
Yesterday I found a PALM: A Visor Edge. It was under glass in the Boutique section where the better stuff is. I thought my eyes were deceiving me. After asking to see it and asking the woman behind the counter what it was, she offered to plug it in and check.
"The plug doesn't seem to work"
I realised it was a USB plug and said:
"Just put it in a bag. For $3.99 I will take it home and figure it out."
Yes, that is correct. Three dollars and ninety-nine cents.
Go me!!
This is not the only thing I have gotten in the last while.
My philosophy is to buy better, donate good. I do not hoarde, I share.
I also believe my income is a gift from God to use wisely. So you bet I donate what I have when I find something better. This willingness to releash I truly believe brings more things my way.
Last week I got a futon that has just been reupholstered in a beautiful tapestry brocade.
Forty-five dollars. --whee!!
This enabled me to give my couch to someone who required one.
I got a lamp for 4.99 a few weeks ago that needed a shade. Got the shade yesterday for 3.99
This is a floorstand lamp of brass. It is beautiful.
Usually it is clocks. I have bought crystal clocks for 2 dollars. Vintage phones for 15 dollars.
Gilt mirrors for five dollars. And on and on.
Today I am just happy about the PALM. That is just the best score this year.
Well, aside from the Swiarokski crystal chandelier I got for $129.
*whee!
-------------
"I like shiny things, even if they don't physically shine. It takes a shiny thing collector to understand that concept."
http://lorry.org/quotes.html
9.1.05
Call me trouble (maker)
"Who is meeting you today ?"
"I am not sure. It could be anyone."
"This is ridiculous. I do not have a schedule, and I have no idea who is coming. They told me this would not happen. They told me I would be getting the same people. And now it is just whoever walks in my door."
---blah blah rant blah
It gets wearisome this blaming. Unhappy people find unhappiness everywhere.
Every time I walk into this home, I am hearing about some incompetant soul.
Alot of times it is US of course that is being spoken of. Today I just found things to do and bit my tongue. In walks the other person and it was a welcome sight. Before you could say: "I did it!" the other person was sitting down and playing the blame game with the family.
*ouch*
"I am going into the other room so you can talk about me too."
"Oh hahaha, she is so funny."
Am I?
blah
-------------------
"I am not sure. It could be anyone."
"This is ridiculous. I do not have a schedule, and I have no idea who is coming. They told me this would not happen. They told me I would be getting the same people. And now it is just whoever walks in my door."
---blah blah rant blah
It gets wearisome this blaming. Unhappy people find unhappiness everywhere.
Every time I walk into this home, I am hearing about some incompetant soul.
Alot of times it is US of course that is being spoken of. Today I just found things to do and bit my tongue. In walks the other person and it was a welcome sight. Before you could say: "I did it!" the other person was sitting down and playing the blame game with the family.
*ouch*
"I am going into the other room so you can talk about me too."
"Oh hahaha, she is so funny."
Am I?
blah
-------------------
8.1.05
"'Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it's getting!'"
When in doubt, quote Alice in Wonderland.
I always do.
Damn weather is being persistent.
I just dug out my car and again it snows.
-------------
I always do.
Damn weather is being persistent.
I just dug out my car and again it snows.
-------------
Slip Sliding away...
Oceanside driving in this white stuff is scary. People either drive huge vans or other luxury multi passenger vehicles, in which case they spent the big bux and drive quite sensibly -OR- they have old tired pick-up trucks with chipped paint and a foot of snow on the roof in which case they drive like rednecks. The latter seem to be out in force.
Half our area is without power. The other half are huddled at home in front of their televisions.
Someone in an ancient Dodge pickup almost drove over me. At least he had the decency to shrug.
I suspect he had no brakes. Another truck circa 70s, a chev in appalling shape went through the red light at a major junction. That fellow did not look left nor right and had a couple of HOUNDS in the back. Gotta love the backcountry.
-------
Must be from all the cold: I had the strangest dreams last night. Bif Naked was on the run from someone and we were involved in some peripheral way. I remember the Burrard Street bridge featured predominantly in this segment. Bif was in an old suicide door T-bird and came screaming over the hill around 3rd ave where a roadblock was set-up. The car did one of those Streets of San Francisco stunts and came down HARD. Bif was no longer in the car when it skid to a halt. I ran over and looked in and she was disappearing down some Alice in Wonderland vortex with a very good-looking ex-boyfriend of mine. hmph. All this to her soundtrack.
Damn even in my dreams she is cool as fuck.
The first time I saw Bif was when she was a recent arrival to Vancouver and was playing in a band. A friend of mine had an Art Gallery along the border between Gastown and the Downtown East side. His gf *(now wife) asked me if I had ever heard of "Chrome Dog".
"They use our space to rehearse. You should check them out. Their singer kicks ass."
Yup, she did. And yup, she still is.
If you are going to spend $$ on music spend some on her Bificus-ness. She deserves your financial support. Bif is a great role model. She is clean and sober, a vegan and rocks hard so hard. God bless you Bif.
And watch out for those vortexes.
-----------
"I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir,' said Alice, 'because I'm not myself you see.'"
Chapter 5, pg. 28
Half our area is without power. The other half are huddled at home in front of their televisions.
Someone in an ancient Dodge pickup almost drove over me. At least he had the decency to shrug.
I suspect he had no brakes. Another truck circa 70s, a chev in appalling shape went through the red light at a major junction. That fellow did not look left nor right and had a couple of HOUNDS in the back. Gotta love the backcountry.
-------
Must be from all the cold: I had the strangest dreams last night. Bif Naked was on the run from someone and we were involved in some peripheral way. I remember the Burrard Street bridge featured predominantly in this segment. Bif was in an old suicide door T-bird and came screaming over the hill around 3rd ave where a roadblock was set-up. The car did one of those Streets of San Francisco stunts and came down HARD. Bif was no longer in the car when it skid to a halt. I ran over and looked in and she was disappearing down some Alice in Wonderland vortex with a very good-looking ex-boyfriend of mine. hmph. All this to her soundtrack.
Damn even in my dreams she is cool as fuck.
The first time I saw Bif was when she was a recent arrival to Vancouver and was playing in a band. A friend of mine had an Art Gallery along the border between Gastown and the Downtown East side. His gf *(now wife) asked me if I had ever heard of "Chrome Dog".
"They use our space to rehearse. You should check them out. Their singer kicks ass."
Yup, she did. And yup, she still is.
If you are going to spend $$ on music spend some on her Bificus-ness. She deserves your financial support. Bif is a great role model. She is clean and sober, a vegan and rocks hard so hard. God bless you Bif.
And watch out for those vortexes.
-----------
"I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir,' said Alice, 'because I'm not myself you see.'"
Chapter 5, pg. 28
7.1.05
Oh no its snow!! Everyone drive slow now... 1--2--3
Rarely does it snow in this resort clime. When the white stuff does deign to fall, it lasts on the ground for 2, or perhaps three days. Maximum. That is the rule. Someone forgot to tell the weather this year, and *cracK* oops, broken rules.
Being a die-hard, naturally I got in my car and drove. Not for me those wuzzy snowtires and windshield wiper fluid that contains some super special toxin to dissolve ice OH NO we do it the hard way in my house. At nine-thirty am I was at the bank getting (yet another) bank card to replace the one I lost (again). The bank parking lot was an ice-rink, so I just slid into my spot.
At nine-forty I was kie-yie-yahing down the road to the Breakfast establishment. Eleven I was off to the thrift and a darn good thing too as they closed due to inclement weather at twelve. Twelve I went to visit me da' and marvelled at the lack of snowploughing done in his place. The plough showed up around 4:30pm and for some INEXPLICABLE reason pushed a tiny hill of snow behind MY car. *grrr*
Driving home it had snowed some more and the roads were just awful. From time to time I would hear the accident updates on the radio along with the Police advisory to stay home if at all possible. A few slides, dips, spins and turns and I was home, in a foul mood thanks to having to dig myself out one more time. *double grrrr* (grrr)
Six pm and OH LOOK it's the Bankcard I lost. Now does that not figure?
If this keeps up I am not going to work on my first scheduled day back.
No way. Although, I must confess that my last cheque sucked the big one, and was about two hundred lean of my usual take. I am not sure why.
This time round I have a stat in there. Enough to buy me some decent tires I hope.
The washer fluid got put in around 2pm.
Wuzzy me.
Being a die-hard, naturally I got in my car and drove. Not for me those wuzzy snowtires and windshield wiper fluid that contains some super special toxin to dissolve ice OH NO we do it the hard way in my house. At nine-thirty am I was at the bank getting (yet another) bank card to replace the one I lost (again). The bank parking lot was an ice-rink, so I just slid into my spot.
At nine-forty I was kie-yie-yahing down the road to the Breakfast establishment. Eleven I was off to the thrift and a darn good thing too as they closed due to inclement weather at twelve. Twelve I went to visit me da' and marvelled at the lack of snowploughing done in his place. The plough showed up around 4:30pm and for some INEXPLICABLE reason pushed a tiny hill of snow behind MY car. *grrr*
Driving home it had snowed some more and the roads were just awful. From time to time I would hear the accident updates on the radio along with the Police advisory to stay home if at all possible. A few slides, dips, spins and turns and I was home, in a foul mood thanks to having to dig myself out one more time. *double grrrr* (grrr)
Six pm and OH LOOK it's the Bankcard I lost. Now does that not figure?
If this keeps up I am not going to work on my first scheduled day back.
No way. Although, I must confess that my last cheque sucked the big one, and was about two hundred lean of my usual take. I am not sure why.
This time round I have a stat in there. Enough to buy me some decent tires I hope.
The washer fluid got put in around 2pm.
Wuzzy me.
5.1.05
Ole Bill takes a turn
The King of the colourful metaphors has taken a turn for the worse.
He conquered a skin cancer, a very pernicious one at that, and just when things were rosey as can be, some other demon attacked from the rear. (and I do mean the rear)
Five days in bed and he is shouting and yelling to beat the band.
I had five or six warnings from his wife as to all the horrible things he was saying about me and blaming me for. He never says them to me, just to her. I doubt he says them at all, I fancy he more likely shrieks them. I went into his bedroom and greeted him heartily.
"Heya old farte! I hear things aren't the greatest today."
"Aren't the greatest?" He was roaring, not talking. He lifted his head off the pillow and summoned every ounce of anger and yelled at me: "They are THE SHITS!"
"No Bill, you only wish they were the shits. The trouble with not crapping is that you feel like crap all right."
He had to laugh in spite of himself.
"Well kid you said it. I feel like crap. I can't shit. No matter what I do."
We talked about dogs and stupid Nurses and a few other things and then I left.
At least he THOUGHT I left. I was actually out in the living room telling his wife that I would think it quite reasonable of her to ask the Doctor VERY STRONGLY to put Bill in convalescent care. It is not reasonable for the HealthCare system to expect an 86 yr old woman, 4 foot 11 and 80 pounds to be the primary Care provider to a man over 6 foot 3 with bowel trouble.
We administer enemas and we stay a little while but eventually we have to leave. Who is going to clean up if he actually gets a result? It really is not reasonable at all.
The part of me that sees conspiracy everywhere honestly believes that the Government is BANKING on the moral terpitude of Bill's generation. They do not rock the boat. They do as much as they can on their own considering it their duty and obligation. Unless Bill's wife does something soon, it is entirely likely that she will continue to be yelled at and blamed for every pain he feels. Unfortunatly Bills sees her as a workhorse. After all, he married her didnt he?
I love Bill to bits. He was yelling at her to get the hell in there so motioning her to stay seated, I went in to see ole Mr. Snarly.
"Oh , I thought you were gone."
"I can see that crankypants.. Do you need something?"
"What did you just call me? Cranky? I aint cranky! I am PISSED OFF. I been lying here in my own shit waiting for YOU WOMEN to stop yer yah-ing and help me."
"Bill I already did that. You are clean as a whistle."
"Well dammit get the olde woman down here."
"I am here."
"Not you.... HER. What's she doing? Sitting talking I bet. I told her and told her that talking is no good for you. But does she listen? Tell her to get DOWN HERE NOW."
"Bill.... you have to rest for awhile. I will tell your wife not to disturb you."
"The HELL YOU WILL!"
"The hell I already did. I told her not to disturb you for at least an hour."
"You bloody bossy Nurses."
"So they tell me!"
"Dammit girl, I want to hate you. But bless you heart you are a fine woman my dear."
I went to the car and got my dog who was with me.
I took him into Bill's bedroom and sat on the bed. My doggie licked Bill's hand, arm and then face. We left him smiling .
God bless you Bill you olde farte.
You better not be a beast tomorrow. Or else.
============
“...Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
He conquered a skin cancer, a very pernicious one at that, and just when things were rosey as can be, some other demon attacked from the rear. (and I do mean the rear)
Five days in bed and he is shouting and yelling to beat the band.
I had five or six warnings from his wife as to all the horrible things he was saying about me and blaming me for. He never says them to me, just to her. I doubt he says them at all, I fancy he more likely shrieks them. I went into his bedroom and greeted him heartily.
"Heya old farte! I hear things aren't the greatest today."
"Aren't the greatest?" He was roaring, not talking. He lifted his head off the pillow and summoned every ounce of anger and yelled at me: "They are THE SHITS!"
"No Bill, you only wish they were the shits. The trouble with not crapping is that you feel like crap all right."
He had to laugh in spite of himself.
"Well kid you said it. I feel like crap. I can't shit. No matter what I do."
We talked about dogs and stupid Nurses and a few other things and then I left.
At least he THOUGHT I left. I was actually out in the living room telling his wife that I would think it quite reasonable of her to ask the Doctor VERY STRONGLY to put Bill in convalescent care. It is not reasonable for the HealthCare system to expect an 86 yr old woman, 4 foot 11 and 80 pounds to be the primary Care provider to a man over 6 foot 3 with bowel trouble.
We administer enemas and we stay a little while but eventually we have to leave. Who is going to clean up if he actually gets a result? It really is not reasonable at all.
The part of me that sees conspiracy everywhere honestly believes that the Government is BANKING on the moral terpitude of Bill's generation. They do not rock the boat. They do as much as they can on their own considering it their duty and obligation. Unless Bill's wife does something soon, it is entirely likely that she will continue to be yelled at and blamed for every pain he feels. Unfortunatly Bills sees her as a workhorse. After all, he married her didnt he?
I love Bill to bits. He was yelling at her to get the hell in there so motioning her to stay seated, I went in to see ole Mr. Snarly.
"Oh , I thought you were gone."
"I can see that crankypants.. Do you need something?"
"What did you just call me? Cranky? I aint cranky! I am PISSED OFF. I been lying here in my own shit waiting for YOU WOMEN to stop yer yah-ing and help me."
"Bill I already did that. You are clean as a whistle."
"Well dammit get the olde woman down here."
"I am here."
"Not you.... HER. What's she doing? Sitting talking I bet. I told her and told her that talking is no good for you. But does she listen? Tell her to get DOWN HERE NOW."
"Bill.... you have to rest for awhile. I will tell your wife not to disturb you."
"The HELL YOU WILL!"
"The hell I already did. I told her not to disturb you for at least an hour."
"You bloody bossy Nurses."
"So they tell me!"
"Dammit girl, I want to hate you. But bless you heart you are a fine woman my dear."
I went to the car and got my dog who was with me.
I took him into Bill's bedroom and sat on the bed. My doggie licked Bill's hand, arm and then face. We left him smiling .
God bless you Bill you olde farte.
You better not be a beast tomorrow. Or else.
============
“...Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
2.1.05
Mmm part 2
Back to the two Millicents.
Millicent #1 went to hospital sometime in this last year after a bad fall.
Possibly she is in convalescent care but more probably she has been placed in a long term care facility as she had some other medical problems.
Millicent #2 was told she had 3 months to live last October.
She opted to stay at home. Christmas of 2004 all her family came to celebrate in high style and marvelled at how well their Mother-grandmother-Great-Aunt-Sister was doing. Springtime her children decided they each would come for a month until such time as mom was gone. Summer waned and Autumn came and still Millicent was soldiering on. She was a marvel.
Not so very long ago, I was at her home and she was planning for the next week.
As we came out of the bedroom I heard her daughter say to a visiting Nurse: "I think it is for the best." The Nurse answered: "it's time, in fact it is long past time."
Millicent looked at me and I squeezed her hand. We walked down her hall and the Nurse hastily left. Her daughter was holding her coat. "We are going now Mother."
Millicent took a short breath and then in grand style made her decision.
She turned to me and smiled and thanked me.
Then she said: "I will see you again. I am quite sure of it."
The office called me and told me to strike her off my list.
"She has gone into a facility."
I knew that. I silently blessed my Father in that moment for never doing that to my Mother although the personal cost to him was huge. It is nothing you can ever blame or shame someone for. Everyone is different and we all have our breaking points, Still though, I feel sad when a person cannot achieve their desire in their last days.
I knew where Millicent was and I planned to visit her.
Like all the very best of intentions, this one was on the road to Hell. I never did get myself organised beyond saying to myself: "Today is the day I go see Millicent."
I had some guilt as I remembered her last words to me. She was so positive in her statement.
Her disease process was much slower than her Doctor's had anticipated, but all the same, her life was drawing to it's close. I was having a guilt moment the other day as I went to see my private client.
Walking down the Hall where my private client lives, I have to pass the Journey of Hearts room where end-of-life care is given for those whose palliation is imminent. I looked at the name on the name and walked in without missing a step.
"Millicent M, it's me! How wonderful to see you!"
The figure in the bed was very bloated and her face had swollen to twice the size I remembered it. Her eyes were closed. She was lying on her back. There was someone sitting in a chair just behind me shaking their head at me.
"I am so sorry I did not get a chance to see you in that other place! It just never worked out for me but now you are here I am so happy to see you again! I wish you were home and I was making you something tasty and delicious but nevermind! The people here are pretty wonderful too!"
Her voice, unmistakeable, quivered and then, finding it's tone settled into a clear sentence.
"DEAR!! I am happy to see you too!" Her eyes were still closed.
I took her hand and squeezed it gently. I know how precious those last days are. I understand the gift of speech in end of lives. Every word comes at great cost. And there are only so many of them left. It is a real honour to have any directed my way.
"Millicent M. I have to go now, but I wanted to wish you a good Christmas and all the very best with your family." I leaned over and kissed her forehead.
" Thank you so much for coming. Same to you and your family."
I turned and left the room. The chair's occupant was now in the hall sobbing.
I heard Millicent died a day or so after Christmas.
God bless you Millicent the proud and victorious.
You ran that last lap as a champion.
------------------
But I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, his greatest fulfillment of all he holds dear, is the moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious.
Vince Lombardi
Millicent #1 went to hospital sometime in this last year after a bad fall.
Possibly she is in convalescent care but more probably she has been placed in a long term care facility as she had some other medical problems.
Millicent #2 was told she had 3 months to live last October.
She opted to stay at home. Christmas of 2004 all her family came to celebrate in high style and marvelled at how well their Mother-grandmother-Great-Aunt-Sister was doing. Springtime her children decided they each would come for a month until such time as mom was gone. Summer waned and Autumn came and still Millicent was soldiering on. She was a marvel.
Not so very long ago, I was at her home and she was planning for the next week.
As we came out of the bedroom I heard her daughter say to a visiting Nurse: "I think it is for the best." The Nurse answered: "it's time, in fact it is long past time."
Millicent looked at me and I squeezed her hand. We walked down her hall and the Nurse hastily left. Her daughter was holding her coat. "We are going now Mother."
Millicent took a short breath and then in grand style made her decision.
She turned to me and smiled and thanked me.
Then she said: "I will see you again. I am quite sure of it."
The office called me and told me to strike her off my list.
"She has gone into a facility."
I knew that. I silently blessed my Father in that moment for never doing that to my Mother although the personal cost to him was huge. It is nothing you can ever blame or shame someone for. Everyone is different and we all have our breaking points, Still though, I feel sad when a person cannot achieve their desire in their last days.
I knew where Millicent was and I planned to visit her.
Like all the very best of intentions, this one was on the road to Hell. I never did get myself organised beyond saying to myself: "Today is the day I go see Millicent."
I had some guilt as I remembered her last words to me. She was so positive in her statement.
Her disease process was much slower than her Doctor's had anticipated, but all the same, her life was drawing to it's close. I was having a guilt moment the other day as I went to see my private client.
Walking down the Hall where my private client lives, I have to pass the Journey of Hearts room where end-of-life care is given for those whose palliation is imminent. I looked at the name on the name and walked in without missing a step.
"Millicent M, it's me! How wonderful to see you!"
The figure in the bed was very bloated and her face had swollen to twice the size I remembered it. Her eyes were closed. She was lying on her back. There was someone sitting in a chair just behind me shaking their head at me.
"I am so sorry I did not get a chance to see you in that other place! It just never worked out for me but now you are here I am so happy to see you again! I wish you were home and I was making you something tasty and delicious but nevermind! The people here are pretty wonderful too!"
Her voice, unmistakeable, quivered and then, finding it's tone settled into a clear sentence.
"DEAR!! I am happy to see you too!" Her eyes were still closed.
I took her hand and squeezed it gently. I know how precious those last days are. I understand the gift of speech in end of lives. Every word comes at great cost. And there are only so many of them left. It is a real honour to have any directed my way.
"Millicent M. I have to go now, but I wanted to wish you a good Christmas and all the very best with your family." I leaned over and kissed her forehead.
" Thank you so much for coming. Same to you and your family."
I turned and left the room. The chair's occupant was now in the hall sobbing.
I heard Millicent died a day or so after Christmas.
God bless you Millicent the proud and victorious.
You ran that last lap as a champion.
------------------
But I firmly believe that any man's finest hour, his greatest fulfillment of all he holds dear, is the moment when he has worked his heart out in a good cause and lies exhausted on the field of battle - victorious.
Vince Lombardi
1.1.05
Another year older....
This old world is still spinning on it's axis although I am told the earthquake over Christmas in the Far East knocked it for a bit. Hard to wish people a Happy new Year when so many people are in dire trouble from the effects of the tsunami that struck after the quake. The newscasts are saying 30,000 people are dead. Before this is done I think that number will reach beyond a quarter of a million.
And what of aid to countries so corrupt they sell their children?
No, I do not mean the United States.
Thailand and Sri Lanka are hit hard by this devastation. The biggest trouble will be getting fresh drinking water. Chlorine tablets are needed. The small villages along the oceanfront where the poorest people live have lost whole generations of their citizens in ten waves. The unthinkable has occurred. Like 9-11 people are accessing their own personal risks now that disaster shows itself as reality. I had more than five people tell me what their GPS units say about how high they are from Sea Level. How strange to be thinking about this.
Happy new year anyway!
And what of aid to countries so corrupt they sell their children?
No, I do not mean the United States.
Thailand and Sri Lanka are hit hard by this devastation. The biggest trouble will be getting fresh drinking water. Chlorine tablets are needed. The small villages along the oceanfront where the poorest people live have lost whole generations of their citizens in ten waves. The unthinkable has occurred. Like 9-11 people are accessing their own personal risks now that disaster shows itself as reality. I had more than five people tell me what their GPS units say about how high they are from Sea Level. How strange to be thinking about this.
Happy new year anyway!
31.12.04
The two Millicents
Names are so different in each generation. Alot of the children born today are named for movie stars and other celebrities; the Jennifers and Pamelas and Brittneys. My clientelle of the older ladies is peppered with Winnifreds and Lillians and Joyces. The Marys and Mays and Dorothys, the Annas and Mildreds and Bettys. Ethels and Frances and Gladys's. Not often you meet a young woman named Ethel these days.
As explained in other posts, my memory, although excellent, is a daisy-chain of associations. Sometime in my murky past I must have made the decision that names just are not worth the trouble to keep in my easily accessible memory. I never ever forget a name BUT can I call it to my lips on demand? No, of course not!
This is the story of two ladies both named Millicent. I met the first Millicent the very first day I worked for my employer. Her middle initial was "M." and her last name also started with M. I never forgot HER name as to me she was always the MMM lady. It made me chuckle.
She was not my regular client however she used to get on my list now and again when someone else was on holidays and I would have her for two or three weeks. The Case manager would warn me every single time how Millicent could be very ornery and not to take it personally.
No need! I never once had any experience with her other than pleasant interaction.
The worst thing that ever happened there to me was seeing a rat run across the room.
Not entirely a peaceful thing but not an isolated occurance either. Other places have rats too.
Alas.
Millicent #2 I met last year. Her last name also started with an "M". My habit with ladies over the age of 60 is to address them as Miss or Mrs.. Each time I left Millicent #2's home she would smile sweetly at me and remind me her last name was NOT Miller. That would be the OTHER Millicents last name. I knew her last name was not Miller. I would remind myself every time I went in there but my lips invariably betrayed me.
"My dear, darling, my name is NOT Miller."
"Oh, Millicent I am so sorry. I cannot seem to say Millicent without the Miller after it."
"That's alright dear, just call me Millicent. Nevermind about my surname."
"Thank you Millicent. That is very gracious of you."
-------------------------
More about this tomorrow...
As explained in other posts, my memory, although excellent, is a daisy-chain of associations. Sometime in my murky past I must have made the decision that names just are not worth the trouble to keep in my easily accessible memory. I never ever forget a name BUT can I call it to my lips on demand? No, of course not!
This is the story of two ladies both named Millicent. I met the first Millicent the very first day I worked for my employer. Her middle initial was "M." and her last name also started with M. I never forgot HER name as to me she was always the MMM lady. It made me chuckle.
She was not my regular client however she used to get on my list now and again when someone else was on holidays and I would have her for two or three weeks. The Case manager would warn me every single time how Millicent could be very ornery and not to take it personally.
No need! I never once had any experience with her other than pleasant interaction.
The worst thing that ever happened there to me was seeing a rat run across the room.
Not entirely a peaceful thing but not an isolated occurance either. Other places have rats too.
Alas.
Millicent #2 I met last year. Her last name also started with an "M". My habit with ladies over the age of 60 is to address them as Miss or Mrs.. Each time I left Millicent #2's home she would smile sweetly at me and remind me her last name was NOT Miller. That would be the OTHER Millicents last name. I knew her last name was not Miller. I would remind myself every time I went in there but my lips invariably betrayed me.
"My dear, darling, my name is NOT Miller."
"Oh, Millicent I am so sorry. I cannot seem to say Millicent without the Miller after it."
"That's alright dear, just call me Millicent. Nevermind about my surname."
"Thank you Millicent. That is very gracious of you."
-------------------------
More about this tomorrow...
29.12.04
Baby it's COLD outside!
After a few days off, the return to work is always slow. For me, at least.
This morning it was back to being the bad guy for a gentleman who would rather not see me ever, back to being the good girl for a very nice lady who can't quite remember who I am anyway, back to comforting those with recent losses and sustaining those who might otherwise be lost. Drama and comedy. The stuff of a life.
Yesterday I was so cold all I could think of to do was go to bed.
Today with a little exhertion I managed to remember to have a bath.
Bath and bed, my favourite themes.
After work I stopped at the Thrift shoppes to check out what people donated after Christmas.
Alot of times you can be very lucky and get some great buys on new items that were just not what Santa was asked for. Or perhaps someone was on the naughty list. tsk tsk
Entirely too much chocolate is coursing through my veins, sitting in my drawers, and stashed about the place. I give it 2 weeks before it is completely gone. Oh wait, not completely gone; my hips and belly will hold some.
--------------------
To have long term success as a coach or in any position of leadership, you have to be obsessed in some way.
Pat Riley
28.12.04
Stats and Errors
Although I love mathematics and excel at all things formulatic I still am the Queen of the Absent-minded and require lists and calendars and alarms to miss my appointments and show up the wrong day, week or month. One of the best things about my Employer is the list they print for me every Schedule week with the names, dates, times and addresses of my clients. For Christmas it just says "not available."
Mayhem and merriment!
Stats and errors aren't confined to baseball.
Don't look at me! I am merely the hands. It's the brain thats in charge.
God help us.
--------------------
I'm not confused, I'm just well-mixed. - Robert Frost ...
Mayhem and merriment!
Stats and errors aren't confined to baseball.
Don't look at me! I am merely the hands. It's the brain thats in charge.
God help us.
--------------------
I'm not confused, I'm just well-mixed. - Robert Frost ...
27.12.04
Merry Christmas and to all a good night
A fine Christmas was had in points west here. We managed to get through it without fights, drunkenness, or chronic overeating. A first for my clan!
Just when you think it is safe to celebrate:
One of our beloved dogs went into a diabetic crisis. She is an older dog of 13 years.
We have maintained her care with alot of help from the vets of this area.
Recently she has been thinner and more incontinent than usual. It was jarring to watch a 7 pound dog empty a water dish and still be looking to drink more.
We had to put her to sleep on Boxing day. It was a sad day.
I held her and hugged her in a blanket then handed her to my family.
Her beloved dad held onto her as she winked out into eternity.
The Vet was so kind. He gentled her passing by tranquilising her before the final needle.
That way we got a few minutes to hold her and say good-bye.
I can't think of a nicer thing he could have done.
She was a marvelous dog and a staunch companion.
My dear little apricot poodle you are sitting in heaven now with Mom.
Lick her face for me.
:)
==============
• "Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden , where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace." ~ Milan Kundera
Just when you think it is safe to celebrate:
One of our beloved dogs went into a diabetic crisis. She is an older dog of 13 years.
We have maintained her care with alot of help from the vets of this area.
Recently she has been thinner and more incontinent than usual. It was jarring to watch a 7 pound dog empty a water dish and still be looking to drink more.
We had to put her to sleep on Boxing day. It was a sad day.
I held her and hugged her in a blanket then handed her to my family.
Her beloved dad held onto her as she winked out into eternity.
The Vet was so kind. He gentled her passing by tranquilising her before the final needle.
That way we got a few minutes to hold her and say good-bye.
I can't think of a nicer thing he could have done.
She was a marvelous dog and a staunch companion.
My dear little apricot poodle you are sitting in heaven now with Mom.
Lick her face for me.
:)
==============
• "Dogs are our link to paradise. They don't know evil or jealousy or discontent. To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden , where doing nothing was not boring--it was peace." ~ Milan Kundera
17.12.04
tra la la lally fa la la lally
Christmas time is here!
I know so from the number of flyers in my newspaper.
What a colossal waste of trees.
Little miss Rockcakes was on my mind as I drove past her home.
Service has been suspended indefinitly.
Perhaps something to do with her fierceness, I really do not know.
During her frequent reminiscences she would extoll the many virtues of her belated husband.
Or she would relate verbatim his extolling of her virtues.
He was a brave man at the very least.
We had a long laugh about her story of when he was going off to get the permit for their marriage. She told me that when he rang up to tell his relations he was off to get a license, they asked him if he was getting a dog or a radio.
HAH!
Only in Britain :)
Little miss Rockcakes was on a tear last time I saw her. She said:
"If I had my eyesight NOONE would come in that door. Not even YOU!"
I was rather touched. Quite a compliment, backhanded though it was.
It was followed by"
"I don't give a TOSS I REFUSE TO SIGN! Tell them THAT at the Office!"
and
They think they have me but they will find out who has who."
I think she is in Check at the moment.
Hope it's not checkmate.
------------------
God Bless you Little miss Rockcakes.
Fire and all!
-------------------
Man is a rational animal who always loses his temper when called upon to act according with the dictates of reason.
I know so from the number of flyers in my newspaper.
What a colossal waste of trees.
Little miss Rockcakes was on my mind as I drove past her home.
Service has been suspended indefinitly.
Perhaps something to do with her fierceness, I really do not know.
During her frequent reminiscences she would extoll the many virtues of her belated husband.
Or she would relate verbatim his extolling of her virtues.
He was a brave man at the very least.
We had a long laugh about her story of when he was going off to get the permit for their marriage. She told me that when he rang up to tell his relations he was off to get a license, they asked him if he was getting a dog or a radio.
HAH!
Only in Britain :)
Little miss Rockcakes was on a tear last time I saw her. She said:
"If I had my eyesight NOONE would come in that door. Not even YOU!"
I was rather touched. Quite a compliment, backhanded though it was.
It was followed by"
"I don't give a TOSS I REFUSE TO SIGN! Tell them THAT at the Office!"
and
They think they have me but they will find out who has who."
I think she is in Check at the moment.
Hope it's not checkmate.
------------------
God Bless you Little miss Rockcakes.
Fire and all!
-------------------
Man is a rational animal who always loses his temper when called upon to act according with the dictates of reason.
16.12.04
What the mind can believe...
What the mind can believe the body can achieve.
I am quite sure that is a bastardization of a perfectly sensible quote, but you get the idea.
The lady who looked me over and deemed me capable of giving her a bath was feeling rather nervous about getting down into the tub again. I told her we should at least try.
"I won't let you fall. You know I am strong."
Yes. I think you are good."
She needed to get up and move around a little. The first time she did not try very hard at all to get up. I purposely *over-assisted* her so that she felt herself launched rather than assisted.
"Oh my," I said. "You are alot stronger today."
She walked into the bathroom. She got undressed and into the tub alone with me standing by. I just poured jugs of water over her back for 15 minutes until she felt cleansed and then I drained out the water and put a thick warm towel around her.
I can't get out."
"Of course you can't. You just had a hot bath. We have to wait a few minutes."
Towelled, creamed and conversed about her increasing strength. THEN I said"
"Ok let me get behind you."
Into the tub I go too and stand behind her very low bench.
I reach down and hold the bottom of the towel.
You're not going to get me up with that little towel I am sitting on are you?"
"No not at all. You are going to stand up yourself. I am just here in case you need to sit down again. You just stand up and sit on the ledge of the tub a minute. Come on. 1-2-3 up.
OK! now just sit there and get your breath."
She had pushed herself up under her own strength.
We got her all settled back for her nap and then she told me.
he last two days it has taken two people to lift me out of the tub."
I had a call about it.
Do you lift her out of the tub?" (we are a no-lift worksite)
What the mind believes....
She believes so adamantly in my abilities she just does it.
My comment to my Supervisor was just to tell her other workers to go real slow.
She can do it. But she has to believe that *they* believe she can.
Or else she will lose faith in herself and them.
------------------------------
Faith, enthusiasm, and passionate intensity in general are substitutes for the self-confidence born of experience and the possession of skill. Where there is the necessary skill to move mountains there is no need for the faith that moves mountains.
- Eric Hoffer
I am quite sure that is a bastardization of a perfectly sensible quote, but you get the idea.
The lady who looked me over and deemed me capable of giving her a bath was feeling rather nervous about getting down into the tub again. I told her we should at least try.
"I won't let you fall. You know I am strong."
Yes. I think you are good."
She needed to get up and move around a little. The first time she did not try very hard at all to get up. I purposely *over-assisted* her so that she felt herself launched rather than assisted.
"Oh my," I said. "You are alot stronger today."
She walked into the bathroom. She got undressed and into the tub alone with me standing by. I just poured jugs of water over her back for 15 minutes until she felt cleansed and then I drained out the water and put a thick warm towel around her.
I can't get out."
"Of course you can't. You just had a hot bath. We have to wait a few minutes."
Towelled, creamed and conversed about her increasing strength. THEN I said"
"Ok let me get behind you."
Into the tub I go too and stand behind her very low bench.
I reach down and hold the bottom of the towel.
You're not going to get me up with that little towel I am sitting on are you?"
"No not at all. You are going to stand up yourself. I am just here in case you need to sit down again. You just stand up and sit on the ledge of the tub a minute. Come on. 1-2-3 up.
OK! now just sit there and get your breath."
She had pushed herself up under her own strength.
We got her all settled back for her nap and then she told me.
he last two days it has taken two people to lift me out of the tub."
I had a call about it.
Do you lift her out of the tub?" (we are a no-lift worksite)
What the mind believes....
She believes so adamantly in my abilities she just does it.
My comment to my Supervisor was just to tell her other workers to go real slow.
She can do it. But she has to believe that *they* believe she can.
Or else she will lose faith in herself and them.
------------------------------
Faith, enthusiasm, and passionate intensity in general are substitutes for the self-confidence born of experience and the possession of skill. Where there is the necessary skill to move mountains there is no need for the faith that moves mountains.
- Eric Hoffer
Would you like some Elk with that?
Oh Bill. He has this philosophy about telling tales.
If the person involved is dead now he will tell. If not, it remains a mystery.
Bill was around when the population of some of the little towns that now are cities or big suburbs of cities was under 300. Lots of land, few people.
Bill knew everyone. The Fire Chief, The Chief of Police, the Game Warden, the guy who sold liquor. Sometimes the same guy might have two titles. Back in those simpler times complicated things were made easier by such fortuitous circumstance.
It was tough times. Noone had any money, everyone had experienced a stinker year and to make things worse, the unthinkable happened.
The Liquor Store was robbed! The Police went out to investigate. The Insurance Inspector was summoned. It was a bad time to be losing money. But these were hearty folk unafraid of hard work or hard times. Every change of season they held a dance for everyone around. It was coming up the next week when Bill had a conversation with someone.
"How about the Dance on Friday Bill? Got anyone with a Still?"
"Nah struck out. Guess it will be another dry one."
"What about dinner? Anyone going to give over a pig or a cow"
"Nope. Noone can afford to."
"okay pass the word. Dance is on, dinner is provided, drinks on the house."
Suddenly his wife burst in with:
"BILL--- don't tell that story. Someone could get in trouble!"
Bill just shrugged with a snort.
"nah dont matter no more. He's dead."
"Who is dead?" I asked.
"The Police fellar, he was a Game Warden too. He helped the guy at the Liquor store load a truck up with booze. Then they went and shot an elk. It was a great dance."
I love Bill.
They just don't make 'em like that anymore.
=====================
Thieves respect property; they merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it.
-- G. K. Chesterton (The Man Who Was Thursday, 1908)
If the person involved is dead now he will tell. If not, it remains a mystery.
Bill was around when the population of some of the little towns that now are cities or big suburbs of cities was under 300. Lots of land, few people.
Bill knew everyone. The Fire Chief, The Chief of Police, the Game Warden, the guy who sold liquor. Sometimes the same guy might have two titles. Back in those simpler times complicated things were made easier by such fortuitous circumstance.
It was tough times. Noone had any money, everyone had experienced a stinker year and to make things worse, the unthinkable happened.
The Liquor Store was robbed! The Police went out to investigate. The Insurance Inspector was summoned. It was a bad time to be losing money. But these were hearty folk unafraid of hard work or hard times. Every change of season they held a dance for everyone around. It was coming up the next week when Bill had a conversation with someone.
"How about the Dance on Friday Bill? Got anyone with a Still?"
"Nah struck out. Guess it will be another dry one."
"What about dinner? Anyone going to give over a pig or a cow"
"Nope. Noone can afford to."
"okay pass the word. Dance is on, dinner is provided, drinks on the house."
Suddenly his wife burst in with:
"BILL--- don't tell that story. Someone could get in trouble!"
Bill just shrugged with a snort.
"nah dont matter no more. He's dead."
"Who is dead?" I asked.
"The Police fellar, he was a Game Warden too. He helped the guy at the Liquor store load a truck up with booze. Then they went and shot an elk. It was a great dance."
I love Bill.
They just don't make 'em like that anymore.
=====================
Thieves respect property; they merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it.
-- G. K. Chesterton (The Man Who Was Thursday, 1908)
14.12.04
Birthday
Today I celebrate my birthday with a Psychiatric assessment.
Fun fun fun!
---and--- necessary.
I cannot tell behavioural changes within myself. Pharmaceuticals make it necessary to have someone watching my back. Brain meds are tricky.
So if I want to remain employable I must take meds.
If I want to continue to drive - ditto.
My favourite part is the Goddess side-effect.
I am *ME* + 30 pds.
egad
A good effect is my newfound ability to sleep.
Because I now sleep, my thinking is clearer.
SO Happy Birthday to me~!
I passed my assessment. Sanity, tenuous sanity is mine.
-------------
Fun fun fun!
---and--- necessary.
I cannot tell behavioural changes within myself. Pharmaceuticals make it necessary to have someone watching my back. Brain meds are tricky.
So if I want to remain employable I must take meds.
If I want to continue to drive - ditto.
My favourite part is the Goddess side-effect.
I am *ME* + 30 pds.
egad
A good effect is my newfound ability to sleep.
Because I now sleep, my thinking is clearer.
SO Happy Birthday to me~!
I passed my assessment. Sanity, tenuous sanity is mine.
-------------
"Think in the morning, act in the noon, read in the evening, and sleep at night."
William Blake (1757 - 1827)
13.12.04
"Oh and, she might have a chair in front of the door"
Good thing they warned me.
I still almost broke my neck.
You know your visit could go either way when there are things barracading doors and windows. This behaviour, although not UNcommon, seems to be routine with certain forms of dementia and memory loss. The client will know something is wrong but is not quite sure what that something is so they become somewhat paranoid. Some clients dont know who or why we are there while others are just fine with the whole thing.
I went in the kitchen where every cupboard was labelled.
Every drawer, every everything.
There had been a real effort to clarify the environment.
The home was sparser than it probably was a few years ago.
No extras anywhere.
I woke the client up. ( It is hard to want to do this on a cold winter morning. If I were a client I would not be wanting to get up in the cold dark winter mornings at 7:30)
I did not see the small stool she had put in her bedroom doorway.
Luckily I just stumbled.
grrrrr.
I still almost broke my neck.
You know your visit could go either way when there are things barracading doors and windows. This behaviour, although not UNcommon, seems to be routine with certain forms of dementia and memory loss. The client will know something is wrong but is not quite sure what that something is so they become somewhat paranoid. Some clients dont know who or why we are there while others are just fine with the whole thing.
I went in the kitchen where every cupboard was labelled.
Every drawer, every everything.
There had been a real effort to clarify the environment.
The home was sparser than it probably was a few years ago.
No extras anywhere.
I woke the client up. ( It is hard to want to do this on a cold winter morning. If I were a client I would not be wanting to get up in the cold dark winter mornings at 7:30)
I did not see the small stool she had put in her bedroom doorway.
Luckily I just stumbled.
grrrrr.
Communication breakdown
What is it about certain days when things go from bad to worse?
I had a very nice client today whose wife seemed to think I was speaking Mongolian.
I did not understand her much either.
On top of it all the office sent a second person for 2 hours.
Two hours!!!
I am not sure what that was all about.
We arrived and our client's wife instructed us to shower him and get him ready for an outing.
Then she rolled the car up and wheeled him out and we were standing wondering what to do.
"We are not allowed to be alone in Client's homes." I said.
"My daughter's home." She replied.
"Do you want me to follow you?" I said.
After a 3 second pause she told me to get in.
Was she thinking we were going to stay and do house-cleaning?
Perhaps she had something in mind that I cannot quite figure out.
Mystery to me. I was booked there for 4 hours.
It all worked out fine (for me and the client) anyway.
Not so sure about the wife.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.
--Helen Keller
I had a very nice client today whose wife seemed to think I was speaking Mongolian.
I did not understand her much either.
On top of it all the office sent a second person for 2 hours.
Two hours!!!
I am not sure what that was all about.
We arrived and our client's wife instructed us to shower him and get him ready for an outing.
Then she rolled the car up and wheeled him out and we were standing wondering what to do.
"We are not allowed to be alone in Client's homes." I said.
"My daughter's home." She replied.
"Do you want me to follow you?" I said.
After a 3 second pause she told me to get in.
Was she thinking we were going to stay and do house-cleaning?
Perhaps she had something in mind that I cannot quite figure out.
Mystery to me. I was booked there for 4 hours.
It all worked out fine (for me and the client) anyway.
Not so sure about the wife.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar.
--Helen Keller
Five in the Eye
This one goes in the *Sometimes nothing works* category.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
A long time ago we had a gent with a severe brain injury on the client list.
He was paraplegic however he had tremendous upper body strength.
He had lost all sense of what was appropriate and was in a family setting with his older parents.
Then his Mother died and the bottom fell out.
Noone could handle him.
Call in the Community Nursing Team.
I had grave reservations about doing any sort of care on this man.
I wanted someone to watch my back, and there was noone.
So they sent someone else.
Then one day my number came up again and I refused to go.
"There IS noone else ."
"I am NOT going."
"Well, will you assist?"
"Yes I will assist. But at the first sign of trouble I am out."
This man lived way out in the outer boundaries of our territory.
A little farther and he would have been some other Health Region's task.
It was a 45 minute drive. I was on time, just barely, and there was noone there.
No other person for me to assist.
There was absolutely no way I was going in there alone so I sat in my car and waited.
30 minutes late someone showed up.
"You just got here too?"
"No I was on time. I have been waiting for you."
"Oh who are you?? I dont know you. I would have thought you would have gotten started in there at least."
"Absolutely not. I am here to assist YOU."
"WHAT? You probably know more about him than I do. You should have gone in and prepped him. I came here from an urgent call. blah blah blah (I stopped listening)
"I don't think so. I will assist you. Let's go in."
The other person was spitting bullets. Tough break for them. No way I was doing this.
We went in and the other person did the job with the worst possible grace. I assisted.
The client was getting more and more agitated.
Suddenly, (and without warning!) he swung up with his fist, and missed me by a hairs-breathe.
"I'm done."
I walked out to the outer room and told the family they had to go in and finish.
The other person came out and yelled for ten minutes about anything they could think of to yell about and then got in the car and drove off.
Since that day I had never seen anyone else take a swing, except for a few dementia souls who do not know any better. But: all that changed.
Someone had a horrid sleep the other night.
Someone threw all their covers off repeatedly and was as a result very cold.
Someone tried it on with the family before we got there.
"Not sure what kind of reception you are going to get. A very bad night."
A very bad morning also.
Every chance they got, they lashed out.
I had to FORCEFULLY hold the arm and hand so the other person did not get whacked.
When we had the person in the lift even then, the sling control was tried as a weapon.
It was very sad.
As we left there was an inch to walk by.
The person got us both on the way out.
I have a little bruise to match the other two where they got me during the *care*
Today was a different story, everything was wonderful.
You wouldn't even know yesterday was a possibility unless someone warned you.
Thankfully I had an awesome second person.
No attitude just work.
And high skills.
And good communication.
But it still did not help us dodge the lashing out.
Sometimes, nothing works.
=================
"The mind is seldom quickened to very vigorous operations but by pain, or the dread of pain."
Johnson
=================
"The mind is seldom quickened to very vigorous operations but by pain, or the dread of pain."
Johnson
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
A long time ago we had a gent with a severe brain injury on the client list.
He was paraplegic however he had tremendous upper body strength.
He had lost all sense of what was appropriate and was in a family setting with his older parents.
Then his Mother died and the bottom fell out.
Noone could handle him.
Call in the Community Nursing Team.
I had grave reservations about doing any sort of care on this man.
I wanted someone to watch my back, and there was noone.
So they sent someone else.
Then one day my number came up again and I refused to go.
"There IS noone else ."
"I am NOT going."
"Well, will you assist?"
"Yes I will assist. But at the first sign of trouble I am out."
This man lived way out in the outer boundaries of our territory.
A little farther and he would have been some other Health Region's task.
It was a 45 minute drive. I was on time, just barely, and there was noone there.
No other person for me to assist.
There was absolutely no way I was going in there alone so I sat in my car and waited.
30 minutes late someone showed up.
"You just got here too?"
"No I was on time. I have been waiting for you."
"Oh who are you?? I dont know you. I would have thought you would have gotten started in there at least."
"Absolutely not. I am here to assist YOU."
"WHAT? You probably know more about him than I do. You should have gone in and prepped him. I came here from an urgent call. blah blah blah (I stopped listening)
"I don't think so. I will assist you. Let's go in."
The other person was spitting bullets. Tough break for them. No way I was doing this.
We went in and the other person did the job with the worst possible grace. I assisted.
The client was getting more and more agitated.
Suddenly, (and without warning!) he swung up with his fist, and missed me by a hairs-breathe.
"I'm done."
I walked out to the outer room and told the family they had to go in and finish.
The other person came out and yelled for ten minutes about anything they could think of to yell about and then got in the car and drove off.
Since that day I had never seen anyone else take a swing, except for a few dementia souls who do not know any better. But: all that changed.
Someone had a horrid sleep the other night.
Someone threw all their covers off repeatedly and was as a result very cold.
Someone tried it on with the family before we got there.
"Not sure what kind of reception you are going to get. A very bad night."
A very bad morning also.
Every chance they got, they lashed out.
I had to FORCEFULLY hold the arm and hand so the other person did not get whacked.
When we had the person in the lift even then, the sling control was tried as a weapon.
It was very sad.
As we left there was an inch to walk by.
The person got us both on the way out.
I have a little bruise to match the other two where they got me during the *care*
Today was a different story, everything was wonderful.
You wouldn't even know yesterday was a possibility unless someone warned you.
Thankfully I had an awesome second person.
No attitude just work.
And high skills.
And good communication.
But it still did not help us dodge the lashing out.
Sometimes, nothing works.
=================
"The mind is seldom quickened to very vigorous operations but by pain, or the dread of pain."
Johnson
=================
"The mind is seldom quickened to very vigorous operations but by pain, or the dread of pain."
Johnson
12.12.04
"Something about you"
uh huh it was the blender Lady.
There is just something about you.."
oh?
You just don't listen. Take for example just now. I asked you to get my pajamas the flannel ones and you went right to the drawer and opened it when I clearly told you they were on the other bed."
You did?
And don't come any closer. There is just something about that colour red."
I am wearing a red knit set with a black and red vest.
You should never come to sick people wearing the colour red. It is just too much energy for us. I am a person who is strongly affected by colour."
What a surprise.
She delayed her eleborate procedures until the last possible moment when I no longer had time. Fooled her slightly this time. Snuck in early and made the &^$%$#@#@ pureed porridge and banana.
I had three or four other little helpful things told me.
One hour and a half she gets in the morning.
Even first thing up she makes me really wonder how the Medical System can justify her controlling measures. ----%^$$%#-----
Later I was with the very most senior of clients. Asked her about the red thing.
I was just about to compliment you on that. It is such a warm and beautiful colour."
I hugged her.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Maturity is not a matter of arteries, it's a matter of attitude.
--Randall D. Worley
There is just something about you.."
oh?
You just don't listen. Take for example just now. I asked you to get my pajamas the flannel ones and you went right to the drawer and opened it when I clearly told you they were on the other bed."
You did?
And don't come any closer. There is just something about that colour red."
I am wearing a red knit set with a black and red vest.
You should never come to sick people wearing the colour red. It is just too much energy for us. I am a person who is strongly affected by colour."
What a surprise.
She delayed her eleborate procedures until the last possible moment when I no longer had time. Fooled her slightly this time. Snuck in early and made the &^$%$#@#@ pureed porridge and banana.
I had three or four other little helpful things told me.
One hour and a half she gets in the morning.
Even first thing up she makes me really wonder how the Medical System can justify her controlling measures. ----%^$$%#-----
Later I was with the very most senior of clients. Asked her about the red thing.
I was just about to compliment you on that. It is such a warm and beautiful colour."
I hugged her.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Maturity is not a matter of arteries, it's a matter of attitude.
--Randall D. Worley
10.12.04
The Sea and thee
Some old salty dog told me a tale about a battle between him and a greater force: The Sea
He was young and fit and very proud and was sitting up in Nootka Sound on deck on a warm day while the rest of the crew slept the afternoon away below. He was getting hot and the water was beckoning so he stripped off and dove in the water. It was cool and refreshing. He decided to swim around the boat and when he completed the circle he thought he might do it again.
Second time round he realised that they were not anchored just adrift and the lap around was a little more tiring. Time to get back on deck.
He looked for something to grab onto and realised he had not thought to lower a fender. The fenders were rope ladders he had made himself and they were all tucked neatly away on the deck. The sea was lapping cooly against him. He suddenly realised the effect of the cold water on his body; he was exhausted.
He had a few minutes of strength left but not more. He knew if he called out noone would hear him. He put every last ounce of determination into springing out of the water and grabbing onto the deck. With a sickening sinking feeling his arms betrayed him and he found himself back in the water. The boat was drifting farther away. The water was feeling colder.
He knew right then that if he did not make it the next time he would not be able to try again and he would most likely drown. He grabbed on again and missed again, but clung to the side of the boat. He willed himself up and crawled to the rail and got one arm over and then the other but could go no farther. For five or six minutes he was at the mercy of the Sea as the boat rolled with the tide. Finally he got one leg over and fell face down onto the deck.
It was such a hot day that the pitch between the planks was burning his skin but he could not move, not even one inch. He lay there for over an hour and then finally got enough strength to go below and get under a blanket.
The stripes on his front reminded him for quite a few weeks to choose his battles wisely.
He never again swam alone, but 60 years later he still has a deep respect for the Sea.
----------------------------
He that will learn to pray, let him go to the sea.
George Herbert, Jacula Prudentum, 1640
He was young and fit and very proud and was sitting up in Nootka Sound on deck on a warm day while the rest of the crew slept the afternoon away below. He was getting hot and the water was beckoning so he stripped off and dove in the water. It was cool and refreshing. He decided to swim around the boat and when he completed the circle he thought he might do it again.
Second time round he realised that they were not anchored just adrift and the lap around was a little more tiring. Time to get back on deck.
He looked for something to grab onto and realised he had not thought to lower a fender. The fenders were rope ladders he had made himself and they were all tucked neatly away on the deck. The sea was lapping cooly against him. He suddenly realised the effect of the cold water on his body; he was exhausted.
He had a few minutes of strength left but not more. He knew if he called out noone would hear him. He put every last ounce of determination into springing out of the water and grabbing onto the deck. With a sickening sinking feeling his arms betrayed him and he found himself back in the water. The boat was drifting farther away. The water was feeling colder.
He knew right then that if he did not make it the next time he would not be able to try again and he would most likely drown. He grabbed on again and missed again, but clung to the side of the boat. He willed himself up and crawled to the rail and got one arm over and then the other but could go no farther. For five or six minutes he was at the mercy of the Sea as the boat rolled with the tide. Finally he got one leg over and fell face down onto the deck.
It was such a hot day that the pitch between the planks was burning his skin but he could not move, not even one inch. He lay there for over an hour and then finally got enough strength to go below and get under a blanket.
The stripes on his front reminded him for quite a few weeks to choose his battles wisely.
He never again swam alone, but 60 years later he still has a deep respect for the Sea.
----------------------------
He that will learn to pray, let him go to the sea.
George Herbert, Jacula Prudentum, 1640
I'm 98 today -hurray- I'm 98 today!
A little poem sits on the tabletop of a very special Lady.
It was written by her 6 year old great-great grand daughter on the occaision of her 98th birthday.
o/~I'm 98 today --HURRAY!-- I'm 98 today
I'll laugh and sing and smile and dance
But perhaps I better not take the chance
I'm 98 today! ~\o
I met this Lady when she was 104.
104 sounds like a temperature to me never an age.
There were some centenarians in other places I had worked or visited but never had I met someone so advanced in age living in their own home. On their own. The woman was absolutely sparkling with the delight of knowing how amazing the whole thing was to me. Sparkling.
She is 107 now. One hundred and seven years old. Living in her own apartment. Alone.
Isn't that the very best thing you have read today?
I love it.
la-la-la
---------------
To know how to grow old is the master work of wisdom, one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living. --Henry Frederic Amiel
It was written by her 6 year old great-great grand daughter on the occaision of her 98th birthday.
o/~I'm 98 today --HURRAY!-- I'm 98 today
I'll laugh and sing and smile and dance
But perhaps I better not take the chance
I'm 98 today! ~\o
I met this Lady when she was 104.
104 sounds like a temperature to me never an age.
There were some centenarians in other places I had worked or visited but never had I met someone so advanced in age living in their own home. On their own. The woman was absolutely sparkling with the delight of knowing how amazing the whole thing was to me. Sparkling.
She is 107 now. One hundred and seven years old. Living in her own apartment. Alone.
Isn't that the very best thing you have read today?
I love it.
la-la-la
---------------
To know how to grow old is the master work of wisdom, one of the most difficult chapters in the great art of living. --Henry Frederic Amiel
A wee mishap
Sometimes my inner demons use my physical body and act out little situations quite out of my subconscious.
I seem to have trouble with food.
I have always said that I do whatever my clients need.
I never said I do it happily.
I am cheerful about things and can do most any task with a cheery attitude. That does not mean I am happy doing it. --again: syntax is everything
One of the things about my workplace that really annoys me is that highly skilled people can be sent to prepare food while someone who struggles is out there doing Palliative Care.
That is not supposed to happen anymore. It does.
One morning soon I will be pureeing organic something for Mrs. I will eat it later while someone else is doing the Pals.
It's first up so I should not be too pissy about it.
Thanks to the miracles of modern pharmacology I am almost always in a good mood.
You would be too if you had been adrenally burned out for a decade and now enjoy normal adrenilin levels. So *refreshing* to sleep at night.
I can do almost anything in daylight hours. The earlier the better.
If I have a stinker client at 6am I could care less.
At 4pm I might have a headieache about it.
At 8pm I would stew a tad.
At midnite I would most likely rant.
The Scribe was the first and best example of food fights.
He had decided to hate my very presence since the day I had an urgent call from the Office that lasted 20 minutes. I had not yet realised it at this point. I would walk in around 5pm and be told labouriously how to boil water and slice carrots etc etc
"Dont touch the custard. Maggie (another worker) makes the perfect english custard. My wife and I have been waiting for months for her to come. She was here this morning. It's beautiful. We can't wait to have it for dessert. Just warm up the soup. It's in the fridge. You can't miss it."
I missed it. After ten mins of stirring the pot and wondering what was wrong with the "soup" I had the insight to check the fridge again. yup. The soup was still in it's bowl awaiting me.
It was the custard I was warming up. I had even added milk to it. You never saw the contents of a pot whipped back on a plate so fast! I put it in the freezer so it might firm back up. Then I put it way at the back of the fridge and got the real soup warmed up. Rocket science you know.
Hah. I got out while the gettin was good.
A student had accompanied me at that time learning the ropes. The Scribe in his pompous glory had thrown her out after saying that it was all *too much* while waving his finger at me. I had called him for permission earlier but apparantly he forgot. I guess the drama of throwing her out was too much fun. After the custard debacle I got into my car where she was waiting and told her the story. Of course we laughed. I also told her I would not be going back there.
hah
Last week I had the blender lady at noontime.
"Just puree some peas" she said. Did I know how to do that?
translation: can you do it exactly the way I want following the steps I desire in the order I dictate or do I have to come and sit in my wheelchair beside you barking out directions while telling you I cant hear.
yeah yeah I know how to do that.
First off the blender seal broke.
An omen.
I was lulled into a false sense of security while cooking them and thickening them.
I put them in her thermos and walked it into where she lies in state, a plastic cabinet serving as her everything drawers. The top drawer is pulled out for the thermos to sit in.
I put it in the drawer she pulled out.
She checked to see if the lid was loose enough for her to open.
Over went the drawer and pea soup went everywhere. It was like a outtake from the Exorcist.
*grrr* Made me late for my very important meeting and what's worse:
I went back there for a morning visit this week and as I brought the blenderized food over she said to me:
"Be careful of the drawer. One of those idiot girls that doesn't know anything knocked it over. Pea soup everywhere. Can you imagine?"
Yes I can.
-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Memory feeds imagination." ~ Amy Tan (Joy Luck Club)
I seem to have trouble with food.
I have always said that I do whatever my clients need.
I never said I do it happily.
I am cheerful about things and can do most any task with a cheery attitude. That does not mean I am happy doing it. --again: syntax is everything
One of the things about my workplace that really annoys me is that highly skilled people can be sent to prepare food while someone who struggles is out there doing Palliative Care.
That is not supposed to happen anymore. It does.
One morning soon I will be pureeing organic something for Mrs. I will eat it later while someone else is doing the Pals.
It's first up so I should not be too pissy about it.
Thanks to the miracles of modern pharmacology I am almost always in a good mood.
You would be too if you had been adrenally burned out for a decade and now enjoy normal adrenilin levels. So *refreshing* to sleep at night.
I can do almost anything in daylight hours. The earlier the better.
If I have a stinker client at 6am I could care less.
At 4pm I might have a headieache about it.
At 8pm I would stew a tad.
At midnite I would most likely rant.
The Scribe was the first and best example of food fights.
He had decided to hate my very presence since the day I had an urgent call from the Office that lasted 20 minutes. I had not yet realised it at this point. I would walk in around 5pm and be told labouriously how to boil water and slice carrots etc etc
"Dont touch the custard. Maggie (another worker) makes the perfect english custard. My wife and I have been waiting for months for her to come. She was here this morning. It's beautiful. We can't wait to have it for dessert. Just warm up the soup. It's in the fridge. You can't miss it."
I missed it. After ten mins of stirring the pot and wondering what was wrong with the "soup" I had the insight to check the fridge again. yup. The soup was still in it's bowl awaiting me.
It was the custard I was warming up. I had even added milk to it. You never saw the contents of a pot whipped back on a plate so fast! I put it in the freezer so it might firm back up. Then I put it way at the back of the fridge and got the real soup warmed up. Rocket science you know.
Hah. I got out while the gettin was good.
A student had accompanied me at that time learning the ropes. The Scribe in his pompous glory had thrown her out after saying that it was all *too much* while waving his finger at me. I had called him for permission earlier but apparantly he forgot. I guess the drama of throwing her out was too much fun. After the custard debacle I got into my car where she was waiting and told her the story. Of course we laughed. I also told her I would not be going back there.
hah
Last week I had the blender lady at noontime.
"Just puree some peas" she said. Did I know how to do that?
translation: can you do it exactly the way I want following the steps I desire in the order I dictate or do I have to come and sit in my wheelchair beside you barking out directions while telling you I cant hear.
yeah yeah I know how to do that.
First off the blender seal broke.
An omen.
I was lulled into a false sense of security while cooking them and thickening them.
I put them in her thermos and walked it into where she lies in state, a plastic cabinet serving as her everything drawers. The top drawer is pulled out for the thermos to sit in.
I put it in the drawer she pulled out.
She checked to see if the lid was loose enough for her to open.
Over went the drawer and pea soup went everywhere. It was like a outtake from the Exorcist.
*grrr* Made me late for my very important meeting and what's worse:
I went back there for a morning visit this week and as I brought the blenderized food over she said to me:
"Be careful of the drawer. One of those idiot girls that doesn't know anything knocked it over. Pea soup everywhere. Can you imagine?"
Yes I can.
-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Memory feeds imagination." ~ Amy Tan (Joy Luck Club)
9.12.04
A little eavesdropping....
Ole Bill told me a very funny story this morning,
He was harkening back to the days on the Farm when winters were long and joyless and the nearest neighbour was 4 miles away.
"How did you find out the news Bill? Did you have a radio?"
Nah not back then."
"Did you get a newspaper?"
Are you kidding? Noone would deliver out in the middle of the prairie!"
"Well what did you do for news?"
Oh hell we used the phone."
"Was it a crank phone?"
Oh yeah we were one long and 4 short that was our ring. Whenever you wanted to know anything at all you just picked up the phone and listened. There was only one line north of Calgary and we all shared it.
I remember Aunt Lil was telling me about this old bachelor who liked to give her a call now and then. One night he called up to tell her about his hunting adventure.
It was the damnedest thing Lil. I shot the bugger one shot dead!
I walked on over to have me a look at it and it was the damnedest thing.
'The old boy looked just like he was taking a rest on his side. I looked him over and there wasn't a mark on 'im. That old Cougar was stone cold dead. I reckon that shot went clean up his ugly old asshole and out through his mouth .'
Aunt Lil said the next few seconds all she could hear on the line was the clicking of people hanging up in droves."
I laughed.
Different century - same human condition.
Nosey Parkers hear more than they would like.
---------------------------------
Nan Mulhanney: I couldn't help overhearing because I was intentionally eavesdropping.
(I'll Do Anything (1994))
He was harkening back to the days on the Farm when winters were long and joyless and the nearest neighbour was 4 miles away.
"How did you find out the news Bill? Did you have a radio?"
Nah not back then."
"Did you get a newspaper?"
Are you kidding? Noone would deliver out in the middle of the prairie!"
"Well what did you do for news?"
Oh hell we used the phone."
"Was it a crank phone?"
Oh yeah we were one long and 4 short that was our ring. Whenever you wanted to know anything at all you just picked up the phone and listened. There was only one line north of Calgary and we all shared it.
I remember Aunt Lil was telling me about this old bachelor who liked to give her a call now and then. One night he called up to tell her about his hunting adventure.
It was the damnedest thing Lil. I shot the bugger one shot dead!
I walked on over to have me a look at it and it was the damnedest thing.
'The old boy looked just like he was taking a rest on his side. I looked him over and there wasn't a mark on 'im. That old Cougar was stone cold dead. I reckon that shot went clean up his ugly old asshole and out through his mouth .'
Aunt Lil said the next few seconds all she could hear on the line was the clicking of people hanging up in droves."
I laughed.
Different century - same human condition.
Nosey Parkers hear more than they would like.
---------------------------------
Nan Mulhanney: I couldn't help overhearing because I was intentionally eavesdropping.
(I'll Do Anything (1994))
Past time to go
What a sad thing it is when it is time to go yet all the signs are ignored.
Many times it will be a vascular dementia or an Alzheimers type dementia causing judgement errors. This is where the Medical system has to intervene. It is never done lightly.
Today I had two clients both in this circumstance.
The first client lives in one of the most desirable areas in our lovely resort area.
The home is a multi million dollar property. She knows this part.
She does not quite remember the difference between her Mother and herself or her husband and her father.
She at least has no desire to cook but she has a strong desire to wander up and down the road.
She shows effects from a vascular dementia (The underlying cause of vascular dementia is an interruption of blood flow to the brain.)
She is not quite a danger to herself yet neither is she safe. Shades of grey.
The second client lives in low-income housing sponsered by one of the local benevolent societies. She and her husband were among the first tenants there. Over a year ago I had the sad task of reporting finding her cooking brown sugar and wondering why it wouldnt thicken. She thought it was porridge. Then she had a terrible cough that would not go away and a great deal of incontinence. She was placed in Intermediate Care and at the very last moment she declined to go. This happened four times.
In the last month something has gone terribly awry. One Nurse arrived to find the client rubbing her arm. After some coaxing she got her to remove her robe and found half her back and arm completely raw. Noone knows quite what happened but the dressing is huge.
Then she left her stove on two nights in a row - the third day she put her hand on the burner.
Another dressing.
Pills untaken, fire risk.... she has to go this time.
She no longer can decline.
I wish she would have gone last year at the beginning of the great slide down.
---------
Deterioration of kindness and consideration is the most insidious blight on our mental environment - when our rights as consumers overshadow our responsibilities to each other as human beings. - Roxanne Bielskis
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I believe that the horrifying deterioration in the ethical conduct of people today stems from the mechanization and dehumanization of our lives - the disastrous by-product of the scientific and technical mentality. Nostra culpa. Man grows cold faster than the planet he inhabits.
Albert Einstein
Many times it will be a vascular dementia or an Alzheimers type dementia causing judgement errors. This is where the Medical system has to intervene. It is never done lightly.
Today I had two clients both in this circumstance.
The first client lives in one of the most desirable areas in our lovely resort area.
The home is a multi million dollar property. She knows this part.
She does not quite remember the difference between her Mother and herself or her husband and her father.
She at least has no desire to cook but she has a strong desire to wander up and down the road.
She shows effects from a vascular dementia (The underlying cause of vascular dementia is an interruption of blood flow to the brain.)
She is not quite a danger to herself yet neither is she safe. Shades of grey.
The second client lives in low-income housing sponsered by one of the local benevolent societies. She and her husband were among the first tenants there. Over a year ago I had the sad task of reporting finding her cooking brown sugar and wondering why it wouldnt thicken. She thought it was porridge. Then she had a terrible cough that would not go away and a great deal of incontinence. She was placed in Intermediate Care and at the very last moment she declined to go. This happened four times.
In the last month something has gone terribly awry. One Nurse arrived to find the client rubbing her arm. After some coaxing she got her to remove her robe and found half her back and arm completely raw. Noone knows quite what happened but the dressing is huge.
Then she left her stove on two nights in a row - the third day she put her hand on the burner.
Another dressing.
Pills untaken, fire risk.... she has to go this time.
She no longer can decline.
I wish she would have gone last year at the beginning of the great slide down.
---------
Deterioration of kindness and consideration is the most insidious blight on our mental environment - when our rights as consumers overshadow our responsibilities to each other as human beings. - Roxanne Bielskis
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
I believe that the horrifying deterioration in the ethical conduct of people today stems from the mechanization and dehumanization of our lives - the disastrous by-product of the scientific and technical mentality. Nostra culpa. Man grows cold faster than the planet he inhabits.
Albert Einstein
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