Nursing Home - Days 2, 3, & 4

--July 2003

(Day 2)
DeeDee is in the hall today. She isn’t wearing pants. There she sits, rolling along in her underwear, carrying her pants in her lap. I say hello to her and she crooks her finger in my direction to call me over. When I move forward, she points to her back and nods her head yes, as if I know what she means. I don’t.
I soon learn she wants me to unhook her bra.
Struggling to hide my shock, I casually tell her it’s best that she wait for a nurse. “Oh, come on,” she coos, “It’s really bothering me. I’m not asking you to take it off, I just want you to unhook it. Pleeeease! It’s so uncomfortable.” To tell you the truth, I’ve worn plenty of uncomfortable bras over the years and I am tempted to do it for her. But I realize helping a patient to strip is probably not a good idea.

(Day 3)
DeeDee is in the hall again this afternoon. She asks me if I know where her room is or if I can point her to the nearest bathroom. When you ask DeeDee how she is, she always replies, “Fair to medium. I’m tired.” She insists she is 33 years-old but that she was born in 1965. That would make her 38. I figure if you’re going to spend your entire life confined within the walls of a nursing home, what difference does it make if you’re 33 or 38?
I hope they remember to change my diapers when I’m older and don’t let me sit in my own mess.
Poor Aunt Myrna. She is determined to bring Mama Ruth home but I don’t see how she can. Mama Ruth needs so much care. The entire time we are there I never once see her move on her own, not even a finger or a toe.

(Day 4)
Visit Mama Ruth tonight. While we are waiting we, we hear a woman crying out, “Help!! Somebody help me!! Anybody please; help me!!” Mom and I look at each other, unsure what to do. No nurses appear and the yelling continues. Finally I urge Mom to “just go look.” She cautiously works her way down the hall. Elizabeth follows her. Which is too bad because when they reach the woman’s room, they find her sitting, half-naked on her bed. Upon seeing Mom and Elizabeth, she demands to know where “they” are. Mom tells her the nurses will be there soon. She tells Mom to tell them to hurry because she needs her Sugar Daddy. The she proceeds to scream at the top of her lungs, “WHERE’S MY SUGAR DADDY??”
Elizabeth asks me what a “sugar daddy” is and all I can do is mumble something about a type of candy.