Saturday, February 25, 2006

A Love Story

In the Residents' Council meeting at the --Home last week, Gerri, the Recreation Worker who was facilitating the meeting, asked if anyone else wanted to add anything.

She went around the room, naming different people. Halfway through, Mr. Franon raised his hand. "I have something to say, " he said.

Gerri brought him the microphone. He took it and stood up, facing the twenty five people who were sitting there. He looked around the room then at Jane, who was chairing the meeting.

Then he said, " I would like to ask Jane if she will marry me."

Jane said yes.

So at the end of March, Jane and Mr. Franon are getting married.

Love is so often just a whisper away. All we have to do is listen.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Be Careful Around Old People

Someone sent me this. I thought you should read it.

A tour bus driver is driving with a bus load of seniors down a highwaywhen he is tapped on his shoulder by a little old lady.She offers him a handful of peanuts, which he gratefully munches up.After about 15 minutes, she taps him on his shoulder again and she hands him another handful of peanuts. She repeats this gesture about five more times.When she is about to hand him another batch again he asks the little old lady,
" why don't you eat the peanuts yourself?".

"We can't chew them because we've no teeth", she replied.

The puzzled driver asks, "Why do you buy them then?"

The old lady replied, "We just love the chocolate around them."

It pays to be careful around old people.

Wednesday, February 08, 2006

Who's The Boss?

I was walking down the hallway in the care facility where one of my clients live. Sitting in a wheelchair all alone was a little lady, so tiny she almost disappeared in her wheelchair,. She had thinning, curly hair and granny glasses. I looked at her quizzically, as if to say, "What are you doing?"

She looked at me, pointed down the hall, and said, "Waiting for the boss," and indicated the care aide who was just coming out of my client's room.

I suggested to her, "I think that maybe you're the boss."

It could seem like a small thing --one that could easily be overlooked with a kind of patronizing smile. But, what does that statement say about residents (or this one) and their feeling of being in control of their lives? About autonomy? About choice? About their relationship with the staff who are caring for them?

Maybe I am making something out of nothing, a passing comment that could be left with the woman who said it. But maybe not.

Tuesday, February 07, 2006

Vancouver Canucks Say Thanks But No Thanks

I wrote the Vancouver Canucks about six weeks ago, asking for an appearance at the Nursing Home where I consult. There was a woman there ( who has since died at age 96 or so), who had been a hockey fan all her life. She had never to a game . when she was married, her husband wouldn't take her. Now she was blind, and so couldn't see the game. She listened on the radio to each game--it was her lifeline to the outside and the community. There were no relatives in the area. Her situation was the impetus, but there are lots of folks in that home who are fans.

I thought it would give them a huge life to have a visit.

Well, the Vancouver Canucks didn't think so.

They said that their focus in on childern, which it does say on the website, where I downloaded the application. I have nothing against children. Both my siblings were children once. My friends were too.
But, in some ways, it is easy to be charitable towards and for children. They deserve it, too. It is hard for young people to cope with hard times, when they don't understand.

But older people are our history. They are our past, our memories, our mores and our values. They are maybe not so cute and cuddly at first thought.

Plus, figure this: 150 residents in a nursing home (more actually). An average of two children, so three hundred people. Those people would have an average of two children, say. 600. There are some great grandchildren. Add on anotehr 100. Now, maybe 30% live out of town. That would still leave close to 400 children who would potentially come out to meet a Canuck or two. So there is the kid connnection.

I understand the Canucks cannot accede to every request, but still, it kind of left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

And some sadness for a 96 year old lady who never saw a hockey game, but could have had a chance to shake the hand of a Vancouver Canuck.

Bitch About Butter

Well, maybe this is more like a rant, than a bitch session, but I fail to understand why places that specialize in service to older people, especially disabled ones do things like serve cream and butter and salad dressing in those itty-bitty plastic containers that are hard to open if you have trouble with vision or fine motor skills. If they do serve them, you would think that the serving people would open the things for the people who can't.

And places that consider themselves as home, maybe they need to think about how home-like those things feel. When I want butter at my house, I just dig in the knife and life out a splouge of the stuff (splouge is a word I just made up, feel free to use it. I don't know how much it is in metric.) I would have to open several of those little plastic containers to equal one splouge.

I understand that :
a. it is probably more sanitary
b. more cost effective
c. some people don't want other people splouging in their food.

( Now you see, I have just taken my new noun, and made it into a verb--to splouge . The French will be splougir. Past tense: jái splougi.)

but that isn't the point.