Gearing down

Another new to me client who is in fact also new to the system.
I was duly warned to take my cues from her and to go slow. Apparantly we are in there against her wishes. As she is in an Assisted Living apartment where her cleaning is done twice weekly and her dinner is prepared every day, it can't be that bad.
I walked in greeting her cheerily. I apologised for not knowing her routine and offered my services full capacity. She allowed as how I could vacuum.

(hahah that's uhm not in my scope of practise)
--anyhoo....
I did make her bed and do her dishes and pour her meds. Then I sat at her feet and asked her some questions. What a hoot we had. She even put her hearing aide in for me. ;)

---===--

Middle English just got alot easier

How I enjoy archaic words. Using them correctly is something else again, but you know, who is going to disbute you when you throw a "yvele apayd" or a " auctoritee"into your speech?
Okay, possibly my sister CL but she can't be everywhere, can she?

http://www.librarius.com/cantales.htm
I found this most excellent link while *helping* one of my gamer friends do his essay on Chaucer. The next hour was spent joyously reading the side by side Tales.
This is *my* heritage.
-egad-

and now: for my desport:

So tomorrow, eft soone, I AM apayed to be back to work, back to the things I do impeccably, my dressings and abluciouns. Back to my elvysshe times of happiness and joy.
Forsaking my enditynges and getting my coin from travaillynge..
Perhaps it is avauntyng to say so, but say so I do.
I love my job. I do it well. There is no room for accidie.

I wish everyone has a job, a day, a life like mine. Unless there is entremetteth, it will be good.
Be not adrad. I affiance and, oooo I know that something good is going to happen.
I biheeste.
Alderbest, this is MY life. How deyntevous .

Amor vincit omnia

God Squad: Agent Double-oh ME!

"Oh I am so glad to see you!"
I feel so welcome when I enter this home.
It is not hard to feel happy there, as the water laps right outside the front windows.
The ocean and I have a stange affinity. It knows me, and welcomes me too.
I can stand in the entry hall and watch the tides winking at me. I love it.

There are many homes on my call-list with magnificent views: after all we live in a resort town; an extremely desirable retirement destination. This home is different.
It is the home of a 90 year old character actress. Life is her stage.

"I had thought they took you away from me. Every day I keep hoping it's you and it never is."
It is, once a week, but last week I was switched around from her.

"People come in here and they don't see anything but the water. You are a kindred spirit. You see me."
How could you not see her? She is a highlight not a lowlight.
Today we discuessed John Saul Rolston. Another brilliant mind.

"You are my gift from God. That's what I tell him."
"Tell who?"
"Oh come on. God of course! You don't have to wait until it's time to come here you know. You can pop over any time at all."

--if only life were so simple.
----
I was working in a pair with a much younger person today who is so by the book she almost breathes regulations. I keep checking her lips to see if a font or two slip out. The amusing thing for me is that I am sure she views me as slightly deranged and more than a little confused. Alas she also attributes low common sense and intellect to me. Somewhat endearing, actually. I get a little lift in spirit from all her *reminders* and *advice*. She is not a bad person nor a bad worker but she has not yet discovered the possibility that she may not know everything. It is touching to see such confidence in the face of utter blindness.

-----
Today I saw my old neighbour for the last time before Christmas.
She is such a "swell." (As in "Thou Swell".)
Her clothes are mostly all hand tailored and today she was sorting gloves. I dressed up than is usual for work today, as I was so comfortable in this gorgeous outfit yesterday. It seemed reasonable to wear it to work. Purple velvet pants and a lovely deep muted purple top and matching long sleeved vest. So very beautiful this is. I managed to do the impossible: Impress Wyndolin.
"You look very good today." I stand a little taller with that one. (Five eight maybe)

-===-

The grande Miss of the half-moon is not doing very well today.
She informed me she had slept at her hairdressers.
I worked with her "hairdresser" today so I know that she was confused in the morning too. I think she had a UTI happening. Lord I hope so. Why is it so hard to get higher level administration to see problems as solvable with a little input from the front line. This little lady has medication problems. She is overmedicated, inappropriatly medicated and NOONE seems to think it can be modulated in the Home environment, but still the adjustments are done, the drugs started and stopped, and her confusion rages.

Why do they not consider putting her in facility for a RESPITE visit to get her pain under control? Why do they not see that only under a carefully monitored 24/7 environment the whole picture will emerge? Then, and only then, should she be returned to her home. Think home, stay home. Isn't that the new motto?
She is thinking home.
I don't think that's what anyone else but me is thinking.

It is very frustrating. And now you know why I have a pressing need to blog.
Things I cannot change. What WILL wind up happening, and you can bet the farm on this one, is that she will be declared incompetant and she will end up living in a lousy facility. THEN she will get the pain managed. THEN she will be competant. THEN she will be stuck. Her beautiful home will be sold, (for the big huge bux) or passed on and she will either live on in subdued horror, or she will die from humiliation.

This is just the reality of the situation.
I can only report. I cannot change it.
I am the hands. The brain doesn't listen to the hands.
More's the pity.
----===----

Completely Silly :)

Oh it is a beautiful chilly night.
The moon is waning but still looks pretty darned round. Like me!
I wanted to stay at my parents and watch some good movies but I realised I was very tired as I could not remember where I left a few things. A few IMPORTANT things that are not wise to misplace. I expended alot of energies yesterday making a party beautiful and taking the time to acknowledge as many people as I could. It is never the work that tires me. It is the personal interactions. I was in that toxic building from 10 til 4 on my day off.

Isn't it ironic that the health authorities in this Province can be housed in such toxic workspaces? The building is a sick building. The windows do not open. One room will be freezing cold and another sweatbox hot and around and around goes the air, the same air, the toxic air. The Administrative Staff and nurses are always sick. Always sneezing. Always something.

It was a lovely party and the room looked MARVELLOUS if I do say so myself.
Guess who decorated it?
Uh huh!

So: I drive slowly home on the icey roads, and come into the house where even the floors upstairs are freezing. I look around for my Schedule as I cannot remember who my first client tomorrow is. I look at my Schedule and laugh.

I am so completely silly.
I do not work tomorrow!

hee hee

Sunday in Victoria--- something wonderful to do

God bless the CBC rebroadcast a segment on Noah Kasper this morning.

Noah has a website which you should visit immediatly.
http://www.noahkasper.com/
The Central bar and grill is holding Noah's CD release party this sunday.
If you are in the Capital region you should go by there.
For information or CD orders outside the Victoria ,BC Area please contact Bobbie Blue@ bblue@islandnet.com
#305 1650A Comox Avenue, Comox, BC V9M 3N2
Please mail a cheque or money order ($20) and she'll send you the CD ("If the liver fits, wear it")

Noah is still a visible presence to many people.
He used the medium to present his reality in an incredible way.
The very fine Central bar and Grill is here.
I am going to lift their words from their website because you might be too lazy to click here.

"Noah Kasper (multiple transplant recipient) was a young Victoria musician,
who dreamed of releasing a CD of his original tunes. He was a good guitar player,
saxophone player and vocalist but he was an exceptional songwriter.

After Noah became ill at the age of twenty he still dreamed of making a CD of his original work. In spite of his long hospitial stays and his many surgeries he continued working on his CD project. He died in March 2004 after almost five years of illness and suffering, just before his 25th birthday. But throughout his illness Noah continued to work with Lonny Koch of Trinity Sound in Victoria. Noah was able to record some of his material and communicate to Lonny his vision for the CD.

Noah was very concerned that his music be heard.
He felt that he had important things to say.
Since Noah spent so much of his life in great pain and suffering,
this CD does not have a happy focus but he has shared with us the lessons that he has learned.

About his CD project Noah said,
" The CD is an eclectic mix of rock, blues, funk and pop.
Kind of one part Big Sugar and one part Wide Mouth Mason with a couple of dashes each of Matthew Good and Dave Mathews. The music is emotional and raw yet has a bit of pop refinement. It is created out of light and shade, being both heavy and soft, giving a dynamic, lively groove. The songs on the album represent material from both post and pre transplant times. The songs generally have a sense of hopefulness through the angst. Dreams of better days to come, love and acceptance of the moment. Also, they reflect the beauty seen in the bleakest of moments."

"The beauty seen in the bleakest of moments."
wow.

If I had to sum up the reason I blog, the reason I love my job, the reason I think so many stories are so important to share that would do nicely.

Noah Kasper was a person who other said of him that their eyes were telling them one thing and their minds another. He was present. He left you with no sense that he was not coming back. He was alive aboslutely alive until he died.

Go to that party if you can.
Celebrate a life that is still making a difference.
-=-=-

Look!! Up in the Sky!!!

Tonight I was sitting in my Dad's recliner watching his bigass LCD flatscreen television when my sister arrived. I did not get up, lazy person that I am but the doggie did.
He met and greeted her with so much enthusiasm she felt she should take him outside.
Five or so minutes later she came back in with a look of awe.

While waiting for the dog to finish his business she heard what she thought was a very low-flying plane. She looked up to see a large slow streak crossing the sky.
"I was going to call you but it was gone too quickly. "
"What was? I asked from the chair.
"A meteor I think."

I told her to email me when she found out what it really was and lo: here it is.
http://news.scotsman.com/scitech.cfm?id=2387622005

Wish I had seen it.
Full moon and clear crisp sky tonight. The stars are beautiful.
*Woooosh!*

The secret Santa debacle.

Just when you think you have heard it all, along comes a new contender for moron of the year.

Elementary school is tough.
Middle School is tougher.
High School is the grand-daddy on the mean streets.

A nice small class in our Christian School had a secret Santa program.
The class drew names and bought each other gifts from their *Secret Santa* with a limit of $15.
Most of the children got very nice gifts and most gave the same.
Thoughtful and interesting gifts.

One girl in the class babysat for the money to buy her classmate something nice.
She wrapped it up with care and was delighted when it was received joyfully.
She opened her gift and was happy to see something nice too.
Someone in the class alerted everyone to watch as one boy opened his gift.
She watched too to see what the big deal was.
The boy unwrapped a framed picture of HER with duct tape stuck on her mouth.

The parents of this gift-giver said they thought it was just a light joke. A little fun.
The poor kid that got it was mortified.
The Principal asked the girl if she was all right with it and she said no.
The girl asked him not to say anything.

The Parents of the gift-giver apologised to the girl and had their child do the same but ONLY after they were advised how inappropriate that gift was.

Light fun.
What are these people on anyway?

I am not a big fan of gift exchanges.
I do not celebrate Christmas in the same manner as most.
This story touched my heart. Can people BE any stupider at Christmastime?

-=-

Gimme a B "B"

Oh dear oh dear.
This morning I awakened at 07:30.
I start WORK at 07:30 (normally on this day)
You never saw anyone get washed dressed and out the door so quickly!
I arrived at my first client's a mere 12 minutes late. I made the time up at the next place as I did not require my traveltime. HURRAH HURRAH!

It was the chocolate cake that did it to me.
I got a present of chocolates, really really good chocolates from a family member, *and* had my dinner made for me. Just what I wanted. The dessert was chocolate cake with chocolate icing.
It was decadently delicious and I was completely stuffed when at last I went to bed. Stuffed by sadly, not at all tired. Do you know how much caffiene there was in that cake? Off the charts!

What a wonderful thing it is to have dinner made and a fine so fine box of chocolates all to yourself. Be sure to take the morning off afterwards though.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Confession of a Gourmand

Bless me Father for I have sinned.
I have committed the sin of gluttony.

Reveling in chocolatieness is one thing, laying abed awake listening to my stomach groan and grumble, in hours I should be long since slumbering in, another. My stomach is telling me something. Perhaps it is asking me to take another 2 Tums for the Tummy.
Perhaps it is reminding me that Size 14 fits me just barely at the moment, and if I am planning to wear a size 16 or 18 I should have another helping of dessert.
Perhaps it is wondering if I would like a new maternal pouch.
Perhaps my stomach has a hidden message if I record the ominous sounds it is emitting and play them backwards.

I think I know what those words would be.
Something along the lines of:
"oink oink little piggie!"

-=-

(pass the truffles, no wait, I will go sniff them out for myself)

mmm chocolate

It dawned a pink sky as I was entering Miss This-is-not-my-house.
After a week of bleak grey, the sun was more than usually welcome.
I was pleasantly oriented, or is it orientated? I never quite know the correct useage of those two words. Feeling most wonderful due in part to chocolate for breakfast, I began my day.

My first client had just fallen perhaps an hour before I arrived.
She was very sore but ambulatory and off to get X-rays today. I hope she did not break anything. I find her so lively and inspirational. Alot of people describe her as severely demented but I am not convinced it is so. She is making sense of the irrational in the best way she knows how.

My second client was pissed at me. I was not sure why until she mentioned she was calling in the clockmaker *again*. "Remember you wound my clock for me? Well I told you it had to be done a certain way and .... if you knew anything about antique clocks you would know you never ever... ..."

All right I am not the rhinocerous-skinned I once was but in this case I tuned her completely out. Don't be asking me to wind your clocks lady. And by the way, I have 120 clocks and more than a few are antique. And yeah, I am a horologist and a ... wait a minute! I don't care to justify myself to you. I said nothing at all. Pay the Clockmaker honey. She thinks I am a moron so I can be her moron.

My third client really is demented but in a lovely elegant way. I enjoy her company and she enjoys mine and we discuss fashion, customer service and religion. None of that pesky healthcare stuff ;)

My next client has severe jaw pain this week. She in sure it is a heart symptom and therefor refuses to see her Doctor as she thinks they will shove her into hospital again. It scares her though. She has a very bad back with collapsed disks and a serious heart condition. She is so vibrant and engaged in life even though she cannot walk to her washroom without getting out of breath. I think she should be on oxygen but then I am not her Doctor. I told her about the new drug my parent is on. It has made a huge difference in his life. Or rather, it has enabled a difference in his life to occur.

Tramacet.
This drug has been available in Canada for about 14 weeks now.
It is prescribed for moderate to severe pain. Tramacet is similar to another opioid: morphine.
My parent already takes Gabapentin for long-term pain management. That was a difficult adjustment for him physically and once in his system for a few weeks, it was clear that Gabapentin + Tylenol 3 was not effective nor efficient pain management for him.

Enter Tamacet.
The first three weeks were awful as his body adjusted to the medication.
Thanks to an involved pharmacist and me being proactive, his dosage was more than halved and he went from being zombieman laying on the couch 24/7 to walking about with his cane only. Happily. Joyfully. He is slowly resuming his life. It is very good.

I understand that the pain is still present under that substantial layer of medical buffering.
It is still a good feeling to see a man who was bowed regain his footing.
Hurrah for Tramacet.

Finishing my day with a pedicure and a facial at my favourite Day Spa, I returned to my parents home for a delicious dinner culminating in, yes CHOCOLATE!!

mmm chocolate.
mmm.

-=-

What if I was not so involved? Would he be lying in an extended care hospital now stoned to death? Perhaps. What if the Pharmacist was not every bit as involved as I am and equally curious on the effects of a drug new to market now 3 months only? What if the Doctor did his usual "Oh well: he is after all 81 years old with many serious medical conditions" ?

People have to be their own best Doctor or have someone willing to educate themselves on their conditions if they want a good quality of life in their senior years. It is only one in ten million that gets the olde age + the incredible vigour. The rest of us have to learn it as we go.

Ba ba ba 'day (week)

Other folk celebrate Christmas and Hannukah in December. George's family on Seinfeld celebrated Festivus. I celebrate my b-y. It is either pre-b-y week, b-y week, or Christmas. All in all a good month, December is.

*THIS* is b-y week.
Alas, due to being a lazy fartette and not working ANY extra shifts at all, the celebrations are mild to moderate this year. More mild than moderate. It is all a state of mind and mine is excited. What's so great about aging? I LIKE IT!

Being olde is cool.
It is great to get up and look in the mirror at my olde friend there.
It is.

I want a gooey cake with tasty icing and roses.
I want to hear the happy happy song ad nauseum.
And it is mere days away.
YAY!

Can you imagine how my clients feel?
They get the pleasure of my gleeful joy each and every day.
==== It is good to be me ====

Darkness, Darkness, be my pillow, Take my head and let me sleep

Long ago times, living at home in the basement, listening to J.B. Shayne, Captain Midnite on CKLG FM radio, on my very own transitor radio. I loved my latenight FM radio, and thanks to the impeccable taste of JB and his ilk, ( Daryl B, John Tanner, Tim Burge, Bill Reiter ) I too developed great taste in music. Thanks guys.

It was Jessie Colin Young singing: " Darkness Darkness, be my pillow,
Take my head and let me sleep
In the coolness of your shadow, In the silence of your deep
Darkness, darkness, hide my yearning,
For the things I cannot see
Keep my mind from constant turning,
To the things I cannot be..."

I can hear that song still: "things I cannot see...."

I was hearing it in my mind as I tended to a Scotsman of stout heart who is fighting for his life when really, there is nothing ahead for him but pain.
"I cannot see anymore, but I know how you look."
He never met me prior to blindness.
"Tell me, what do you see ?"
"I dont quite understand Sir, what do you want me to describe?"
"This is no time for games. What do you see? What DO YOU SEE?"

I know what he means. The answer is in the song.
"Things that cannot be."

He took it like a man,
That is exactly what he meant.

-=-
Darkness, darkness, long and lonesome,
Is the day that brings me here
I have felt the edge of sadness, I have known the depths of fear
Darkness, darkness, be my blanket,
Cover me with the endless night
Take away this pain of knowing,
Fill this emptiness with light now
Emptiness with light now


(Jessie Colin Young)

*fun* day

Today I was not in my usual realm of clients but in a neighbouring area.
I had my regular early morning woman, and my second challenging client who was NOT expecting us at that hour. And then it was off to the otherworlds.

What an interesting people we are.
It is so fascinating to see people distilled down to a purer form of who they were.
Yes, I am talking about dementias. I had two clients who were in assisted living quarters, receiving minimal service, who had severe memory loss. SEVERE. a-n-d- they are doing very well thank you, thriving in the warm and caring atmosphere provided by their *House mother* so's to speak. Some of those women are a joy and a gift. Not all mind you, not all.

The trouble with what we do is that unless you know the client well, a 15 minute visit tends to be just a check-in: no frills nor extras. I was puzzled why we were in one of the homes until I found a small note from a daughter. Bless her heart.

On weekends in these sorts of places, there is no service provided by the House Mom as her job is Monday to Friday. That's when they reach out to the Community.
Of course we no longer do meal prep but naturally that is what was required.

I had a most interesting conversation with another man of my new acquaintence who took fully 45 minutes to decide if he was going to let me prepare his food. The conversation went something like this:
"I threw my food out the second she left. She did not wash her hands. And the other one last night she would not even shake my hand because she has warts. She said she was putting her gloves on when she made my bed but I took the sheets off and washed them. And the other guy: I don't know where the hell they got him but he stood there like a potato."

No kidding.
I just don't know what to say.
Some things leave you speechless.

Of course I saw something myself this week that was amazing.
Our of the most HIGHLY educated Nurse Practitioners crossed paths with me and was changing a dressing. She did NOT wash her hands. She did glove up but still: yuk.

Never too smart to be stupid, I suppose.

-=-=-=-

<

Let there be days off

And there were days off.

And it was good.
-=-

And the evening and the morning were the first day.

=-=-=-=

I parted with one of my Holy Water fonts this week.
I gave it to my highly religious client. She was so pleased.
The rosewood rosary I picked up 12 years ago at a thrift store (yes) was something I had told her about for years. She is very Catholic and not a little forgetful so the story is always *fresh*.
It was gratifying to see someone look at the outsize rosary (it's about 8 feet long) and be able to visualise it as something from her past. She has seen similar things.
I really have to get the digicam working with this comp so I can show you.

Spirituality and religion are hot topics. It is verboten on the job.
I lead the client in whatever topic he or she is comfortable with.
I do not evangelise or recruit.
I listen.

We could do with alot more of that on the job ANY job especially my type of job.
Those who listen.

-=-

I am not cured.
There was a Toblerone wrapper in my bed.
I love Chocolate.
Even in my sleeps

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Fridays on my Mind

I love Fridays.
Tomorrow we have the HOLIDAY WEEKEND!

I shall drink red wine, mulled preferably, chat with a dear friend and avoid retail shopping at all costs.

With any luck at all I can spend the entire weekend at home.
HURRAH!


---------------@

Wednesday just don't go
Thursday goes too slow
I've got Friday on my mind (Bowie((pin-ups))

Life or Comedy

A few actors used to sit around debating which genre was most challenging.
They agreed that life is easy; comedy is hard.

Therein lie our basic differences.
I believed life was hard and comedy easy.

Guess what?
Now I think life IS comedy.
Take it easy.

:)


-=-

What I really really want for Christmas!

Noone here in my personal sphere reads my BLOG so I can tell you, oh faithful reader what I really really want for Christmas. I do not really find gift-giving in keeping with my personal religious beliefs. I like the Stocking hung by the doorknob with care though. Fill my stocking and I am happy.

The new P4 computer with DVD/r or even /rw won't fit so you get off the hook on that one.
(but I really really want one)
The Vanilla from the Body Shop will fit in my stocking. Any size at all.
That is what I want. And some really really good chocolate.

It would be wonderful to wake up to a clean house that had the gorgeous aroma of French Toast cooking on the grill and sausages. And coffee... really good coffee. It would be wonderful to look outside and see my car handwashed and detailed. Wrong season, right sentiment. I would be so pleased if noone called me for a week and I could sit home in silent luxury merely eating and bathing long hot baths in lavender scented waters.

It would be the very best if somehow, I knew that everyone I care for was painfree for even just one day and surrounded by peace. Actually, I believe the term for that is *death* but prior to that eventuality it would please me greatly and fulfill my Christmas desires if my clientelle were all to have one day where they felt good in their bodies and happy in their minds.

-=-
when you wish upon a star....
makes no difference where you are:
anything you heart desires will come to you

The Misses Palmer (in pursuit of education)

If you turned 90 this year, your private schooling in the Montreal of the 1920's would be very English class-system driven indeed. I was seeing Birthday Girl #2 today listening to her reminiscing on those long-ago days.

" I was not going to make it."
"I just didn't fit in. It was a good school and my parents were paying alot of money to send me there. The local High School where I should have gone was scandalised by a *BOY* getting a *GIRL* pregnant and in those days that was a terrific mess. My father would not allow me to attend that school due to it's moral laxitude.

"My new school was populated by the Sons and Daughters of Canada's elite. At Christmas time my Mother sent me with a gift to my teacher of Irish Linen Hankerchiefs that were hand embroidered by the very best Needleworkers. The teacher opened it and said distainfully: "OH more hankerchiefs" and put them to one side. She did not notice nor care to about the quiality. Hankerchiefs just were not anything interesting. Of course she got a gold pocketwatch from the Jewish girls there so why would she get excited about my gift? No, I just didn't fit in.

"Luckily my Mother caught on before I completely vanished from the world and I was sent to The Misses Palmer's School for Girls. It was in an olde Victorian home and two sets of sisters ran it. Miss Jenny and Miss Laura Palmer were among the first women to graduate from McGill University. They had opened this School for girls who were, you know, not doing well in the regular system."

"Hmm, was it a Finishing School?" I asked.

"No dear," she said, "It was for girls who were slightly backward."

"No way!" I couldn't believe it. This woman is very well-read and clever.

"Well dear, I just was not thriving. My mother had to do something!"

She told me it was the "Westmont School for Girls."
She spent 45 minutes telling me how wonderful these women were.
So wonderful that73 years later she can describe them perfectly.

Bless those two long-gone dear souls who took a girl and made her into a woman who married well and lived a long happy life.
Well done the Misses Parker.
I am certain there are a hundred similar stories from their HomeSchool that I will never hear.
I don't need to. I see them in Violet.

-=-

The Day after the day after Blues

One night of smalltown Church-stage work and look at me! Tired still after 2 full days.
Granted I worked both days but still: I am really REALLY tired.
MC is not a job that is physically demanding, but in the group I am involved with, there is alot of stress backstage due to perfecfionism scaring off people, and making it so those who do help are running on empty.
....>>>>>>>> stress stress stress. <<<<<....

It is bad enough when the show, "The Show", is during the daytime in the afternoon, but at night(!!!) when I am at my very worst physically and mentally.... *ugh*
Everyone said I did a great job so I suppose it must have been all right.
I an tuckered though.
-=-

Another day of sorrows at work.
I get very sad when my clients have changes that are unnecessary.
Very very sad.

-=-

Miss "I would rather be home dear" who changed to "I want to go home dear" yesterday was Miss "TAKE ME HOME NOW~!"
She was up and dressed and ready for her taxi at 07:15 when I arrived.
She had already called a family member to ask fir a ride home HOURS before that.
Her nighttime meds were not taken.
so sad what pain can do. :(

-=-