I have been called a lot of things over the years. Sounds like an opening line for a comedy sketch! Truly though, with all the people I have looked after, I have had a lot of names. It comes with the territory. I would introduce myself to some sweetie with dementia and they would promptly forget it and then every time I would visit they'd have made up a name for me. I guess I reminded them of someone they knew once upon a time.
My friend Mary called me "Joy". Once, she looked at me and she said "That's not your name,is it?!" and I replied with "No, it's not, but I like it". She then said "Well, what IS your name?" and I said "Gail". "Oh" she said, "I won't forget that, my daughter's name is Gail." and bless her, I remained "Joy" for every visit after that.
And then there was Good Ol' Eddie,age 89, he called me "Sylvia".
"Syyyylvia" he'd yell. "Come here!!"
I once asked his daughter in law, "Bye the way, who is Sylvia?" to which she replied "Oh, he likes you, he really likes you". Now I was pretty curious and asked "Oh really?"
"Yes, that was his ex-wife"!
Laurie called me "Madge", and she had decided that I was a good friend of her sister's and she always recounted how much trouble the three of us had got ourselves into.
There was a 90 year old man named Malcolm and he referred to me as "Gloria". Never known to be a church goer, he asked me just a few days before he passed on: "Have you come to take me to church, Gloria?"
The funniest name I was called though, had to have been from the lady who kept calling me "Tommy". I gathered that was because I was wearing a brand name Tommy Hilfiger jacket at the time. The Tommy insignia on the front must have had her really fooled!
Moral of the story: Don't be upset that they can't get your name right. Just go with the flow, it's a lot of fun!
Sunday 25 September 2011
Tuesday 20 September 2011
Eddie Money
Eddie was a packer. His bags were always ready to go by the door of his care home. As soon as I walked in to take him for an outing, he'd grab them. I would tell him to leave them as I was just going to take him for a drive. At this point, he would open his wallet and indicate that he was short on cash and needed to get to a bank. If I argued with him that he didn't need more than the four $20 bills he had in there, he would get belligerent.
So, off we would go to the downtown branch of his bank. We'd wait in line and then the moment he would get up to the teller he would tell me to scram and he'd ask for "the usual". I would go and wait dutifully on the sidelines until he got his four 20's. Thus bringing the content of his wallet to $160.
With care home expenses already paid for each month and that included food and prescriptions, there was no need for him to have that kind of cash on him just waiting to be lost or taken by another non compos mentis resident. Even if we got a package of cookies and a pair of socks at the dollar store, he'd still have an over abundance of dough. I needed to think of a solution.
I hatched a plan one day to write a note to the bank teller. I didn't want to scare her by passing her a note nor did I want Eddie to catch on to what I was doing, so it had to be done with great tact. The note read "Please give Eddie four $5 bills rather than the four $20's that he asks for. He does not need so much cash". As we stood together in line waiting for his usual teller, I felt nervous, the note folded in my hand. The young familiar face beckoned to us to come forward to her wicket, I tried to breathe calmly. As we approached, Eddie told me to get lost, that he didn't need me there. I knocked his pen on the floor and as I picked it up and put it on the counter, I slipped her the note with a wink. She opened it, read it, and nodded as I went to wait at the back. I crossed my fingers and hoped and prayed that with his poor eyesight and dementia, we would be able to pull off this covert operation.
A few minutes later I looked over as she was counting out the money to him. "One, two, three, and one more makes four." She had given him four brand new five dollar bills. He stared at the money and he stared at her, and then he stared at the money and her again. I held my breath and so did she. I could tell he knew that something wasn't quite right but he couldn't process it so at last he smiled, scooped up the money, and put it carefully in his wallet. "Victory!" I shouted in my head as I walked over to him and we walked arm in arm out of the bank. I looked back and gave her the thumb's up.
From that day forward, I took Eddie to the same teller and she gave him a more manageable $20 instead of the $80 he had been so used to receiving. I look at it as something I did tactfully. Was it dishonest? It was sneaky, but it was the right thing to do.
Here's your tip if you have a senior with too much cash on hand:
See if you can enlist the bank to understand the situation. Go to the bank manager without the senior in tow and explain the situation. Most banks get to know their regular customers and are more than happy to stop needless loss of cash. My utmost thanks to the bank tellers who have seen large cheques written to handymen by their elderly clients and have called the family or client themselves to see if the work has actually been performed. In one recent situation, the bank manager actually paid a visit to the home of the client after several large cheques were cashed. They found the elderly man in his home with absolutely no renovations performed for the money that had been paid. It seems his poor eyesight and age had prevented him from seeing how bad the situation had become. Fraud of the elderly is unfortunately prevalent in this society with all sorts of wrongs committed, including scam phone calls obtaining personal security codes, etc.
So, off we would go to the downtown branch of his bank. We'd wait in line and then the moment he would get up to the teller he would tell me to scram and he'd ask for "the usual". I would go and wait dutifully on the sidelines until he got his four 20's. Thus bringing the content of his wallet to $160.
With care home expenses already paid for each month and that included food and prescriptions, there was no need for him to have that kind of cash on him just waiting to be lost or taken by another non compos mentis resident. Even if we got a package of cookies and a pair of socks at the dollar store, he'd still have an over abundance of dough. I needed to think of a solution.
I hatched a plan one day to write a note to the bank teller. I didn't want to scare her by passing her a note nor did I want Eddie to catch on to what I was doing, so it had to be done with great tact. The note read "Please give Eddie four $5 bills rather than the four $20's that he asks for. He does not need so much cash". As we stood together in line waiting for his usual teller, I felt nervous, the note folded in my hand. The young familiar face beckoned to us to come forward to her wicket, I tried to breathe calmly. As we approached, Eddie told me to get lost, that he didn't need me there. I knocked his pen on the floor and as I picked it up and put it on the counter, I slipped her the note with a wink. She opened it, read it, and nodded as I went to wait at the back. I crossed my fingers and hoped and prayed that with his poor eyesight and dementia, we would be able to pull off this covert operation.
A few minutes later I looked over as she was counting out the money to him. "One, two, three, and one more makes four." She had given him four brand new five dollar bills. He stared at the money and he stared at her, and then he stared at the money and her again. I held my breath and so did she. I could tell he knew that something wasn't quite right but he couldn't process it so at last he smiled, scooped up the money, and put it carefully in his wallet. "Victory!" I shouted in my head as I walked over to him and we walked arm in arm out of the bank. I looked back and gave her the thumb's up.
From that day forward, I took Eddie to the same teller and she gave him a more manageable $20 instead of the $80 he had been so used to receiving. I look at it as something I did tactfully. Was it dishonest? It was sneaky, but it was the right thing to do.
Here's your tip if you have a senior with too much cash on hand:
See if you can enlist the bank to understand the situation. Go to the bank manager without the senior in tow and explain the situation. Most banks get to know their regular customers and are more than happy to stop needless loss of cash. My utmost thanks to the bank tellers who have seen large cheques written to handymen by their elderly clients and have called the family or client themselves to see if the work has actually been performed. In one recent situation, the bank manager actually paid a visit to the home of the client after several large cheques were cashed. They found the elderly man in his home with absolutely no renovations performed for the money that had been paid. It seems his poor eyesight and age had prevented him from seeing how bad the situation had become. Fraud of the elderly is unfortunately prevalent in this society with all sorts of wrongs committed, including scam phone calls obtaining personal security codes, etc.
Thursday 15 September 2011
Granny's teeth are missing!
Here's a tip: If your loved one is going into a care home, it'd be wise to mark all their personal belongings (and I MEAN PERSONAL) with a permanent marker.
When my husband's dear ol' Nana (age 94) was in an assisted living facility she misplaced her falsies (I am referring to her false teeth!) and was at her wit's end. We looked high and low and then just before some other relatives were going to take the entire toilet off to see if it had somehow become stuck in the pee trap, I located the chompers hanging on the trim of the crocheted blanket hanging off her bed!
Having the teeth marked wouldn't have helped us find them any quicker but if they had been left in a sugar bowl by mistake -and don't laugh- I have found a pair there once as well, or some other location, we could have returned them to their rightful owner, quicker.
Once, I was looking after a lady when her $2,000 hearing aid fell on the floor and was run over by a wheel chair and then stepped on by a 200 pound orderly. Sadly, having her name on it wouldn't have spared her the destruction, but if it had say slipped under a table and gone missing, and then located, they would have known exactly whose ear to pop it into.
Eye glasses constantly go missing in seniors residences. They are put down or borrowed or pilfered by some wandering soul. They have been found under couch cushions and in the medicine cabinets of other residents.
Television remotes go walkabout and lipstick tubes go a.w.o.l. Toothbrushes get used by other people, sorry to make you grimace, but they do, and so on and so forth.
You think you have problems with mismatched socks in your home? Think how they feel in the central laundry room of the seniors home! Getting names onto the collars with a laundry marker pen* is essential if you want to see your loved one's clothes again. These pens can be purchased at almost any store and are a small price to pay (less than $3) to keep expensive garments in granny's closet.
*Note: Laundry marker pen is not to be confused with permanent marker which will just bleed into the fabric if used for name marking on clothes. Good brand of this type of pen is called SCRUBBY permanent laundry marker by DRI MARK
When my husband's dear ol' Nana (age 94) was in an assisted living facility she misplaced her falsies (I am referring to her false teeth!) and was at her wit's end. We looked high and low and then just before some other relatives were going to take the entire toilet off to see if it had somehow become stuck in the pee trap, I located the chompers hanging on the trim of the crocheted blanket hanging off her bed!
Having the teeth marked wouldn't have helped us find them any quicker but if they had been left in a sugar bowl by mistake -and don't laugh- I have found a pair there once as well, or some other location, we could have returned them to their rightful owner, quicker.
Once, I was looking after a lady when her $2,000 hearing aid fell on the floor and was run over by a wheel chair and then stepped on by a 200 pound orderly. Sadly, having her name on it wouldn't have spared her the destruction, but if it had say slipped under a table and gone missing, and then located, they would have known exactly whose ear to pop it into.
Eye glasses constantly go missing in seniors residences. They are put down or borrowed or pilfered by some wandering soul. They have been found under couch cushions and in the medicine cabinets of other residents.
Television remotes go walkabout and lipstick tubes go a.w.o.l. Toothbrushes get used by other people, sorry to make you grimace, but they do, and so on and so forth.
You think you have problems with mismatched socks in your home? Think how they feel in the central laundry room of the seniors home! Getting names onto the collars with a laundry marker pen* is essential if you want to see your loved one's clothes again. These pens can be purchased at almost any store and are a small price to pay (less than $3) to keep expensive garments in granny's closet.
*Note: Laundry marker pen is not to be confused with permanent marker which will just bleed into the fabric if used for name marking on clothes. Good brand of this type of pen is called SCRUBBY permanent laundry marker by DRI MARK
Wednesday 7 September 2011
F.A.Q.'s
Here is a sampling of frequently asked questions in care homes followed by my answers:
Q. "Where am I supposed to sit?"
A. "On your bottom"
Q. "How do I pay for this meal?" "I don't have any money"
A. "it's an all inclusive resort, everything is taken care of"
Q. "Have I had lunch yet?"
A. "Yes, five minutes ago"
Q."Am I ninety?"
A. "Yes"
Q."I'm not ninety, am I?"
A."Yes, you are"
Q. "Where am I supposed to be?"
A. "Right here"
Q."Have I eaten?"
A. "Yes, five minutes ago"
Q."eh?"
A. "yes"
Q. "Where am I supposed to sit?"
A. "On your bottom"
Q. "How do I pay for this meal?" "I don't have any money"
A. "it's an all inclusive resort, everything is taken care of"
Q. "Have I had lunch yet?"
A. "Yes, five minutes ago"
Q."Am I ninety?"
A. "Yes"
Q."I'm not ninety, am I?"
A."Yes, you are"
Q. "Where am I supposed to be?"
A. "Right here"
Q."Have I eaten?"
A. "Yes, five minutes ago"
Q."eh?"
A. "yes"
Tuesday 6 September 2011
Baby Boomers now parenting their parents
True story. We all get old. We may not like it much, but it happens. Some of us are lucky enough to have our parents still living. In many cases, we are in the position of deciding whether our parents should come and live with us or live in a care home.
This can be very stressful. Most of the time those wonderful people who gave us life, patched our skinned knees, cheered us on, stayed up late waiting for us to come in the door, are the ones who are used to calling the shots, making the decisions, and suddenly (or gradually) that all changes.
Over the next few months I will be working on a website, a book, and this blog to bring you stories, tips, insights, and links for everything related to parenting our parents in their twilight years. Making Dying Fun may seem like a rather irreverant title but it really says that death doesn't have to be miserable but rather joyful when it involves happy times full of memory makers.
If you came here thinking you might get info about tie-dying, hair dying, or you have morbid curiosity, you have come to the wrong place. For all the rest of you, I hope you will benefit from something you see here.
Dementia is of particular interest to me. For the past decade I have worked with people in various stages of memory loss. The blessings have been numerous, the knowledge gained - immense, the friendships made - eternal and the fun - sustaining.
This can be very stressful. Most of the time those wonderful people who gave us life, patched our skinned knees, cheered us on, stayed up late waiting for us to come in the door, are the ones who are used to calling the shots, making the decisions, and suddenly (or gradually) that all changes.
Over the next few months I will be working on a website, a book, and this blog to bring you stories, tips, insights, and links for everything related to parenting our parents in their twilight years. Making Dying Fun may seem like a rather irreverant title but it really says that death doesn't have to be miserable but rather joyful when it involves happy times full of memory makers.
If you came here thinking you might get info about tie-dying, hair dying, or you have morbid curiosity, you have come to the wrong place. For all the rest of you, I hope you will benefit from something you see here.
Dementia is of particular interest to me. For the past decade I have worked with people in various stages of memory loss. The blessings have been numerous, the knowledge gained - immense, the friendships made - eternal and the fun - sustaining.
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