..at all the floors. I hadn’t seen her since she was in the hospital–my own minor physical anomalies. They did have the wheels of her chair locked when I found her in the dining room at her table–an hour and a half before supper.
She had a lap robe on her lap, so I wrapped it around her shoulders, “hupped” the dogs into her lap, and we went outside in the sunshine–70 degree weather.
She wasn’t sure who I was, “oh yes, TINA,” after I told her I wasn’t Phyllis. Last time I saw her at QO she had asked, “how long to I have to stay here?” Not only doesn’t she know where she is, she had no memory of her transport to and from, nor her time in the hospital.
She had told me then that she had been visiting her cousins, Clarence and Fred Pincomb. Apparently the two shared time in the same business–one worked all day, the other all night. She hadn’t seen Fred until “after church.” Of course, both have been dead for 50 years, and their businesses were totally separate, but that’s okay. It pleased her to talk about them.
I told her her friend Al was going to visit her tomorrow. She said, “I can’t keep track of all these men that keep coming around.” Ba da BOOM! Love it! I hesitated to tell her he was the only one, and that he also visits others who are unable to get out and about.
I put her hearing aid into her ear, but it didn’t seem to matter much after the first minute or two. I think she is shutting down that part of her brain. The only thing she hears at QO is someone telling her what to do. Conversation, such as it is, is rare for her.
I had a long conversation with one of the nurses at the hospital and aired some of my (many) grievances about “the best” nursing home available. This woman is from Germany and had been a geriatric nurse before emigrating to the US. Another time I’ll share what she told me. It would be wonderful if the US would adopt even some of the things she told me were commonplace when she was a young nurse. Below: Gram and her boys, Mozart and William