Don't assume, don't presume

After the old man died, I was almost flippant about the amount of care the old lady would need. She has always been the strong one, and not that much fuss. She is definitely high maintenance, but that mostly meant telling her how beautiful she looks each time I see her. At 97 she still likes clothes and shoes and hair. She is a true narcissist, everything is about her. When she tells me that the people in her building only care to talk about their own selves, she doesn't see herself. What can I say to that?

I assumed I could handle her, easy. She wasn't as demanding as the old man. But I didn't count on one thing, the old man told her how good she looked and kept her up to standard. The old man demanded she dye her hair. He would tell her to stand up straight or put something else on. Almost like a child who wants attention, she didn't care if he was yelling at her to clean up her room, (he couldn't stand the mess on her dresser or the shoes on the floor) or telling her she was the prettiest woman in the building. It was all attention and it was all good.

Since the old man went into the nursing home in mid June, until now, I am seeing her almost every other day. It is too much. Not for her, but for me. I am tired, tired, tired and I need a vacation. On the days I don't see her I still have to deal with all kinds of stuff that pertains to her. I took her out for a nice day on Saturday, had to deal with the health care staff on Sunday, and take her to Urgent Care on Monday. I can't wait to go to work on Tuesday.

The activities are not hard on me physically, it is the constant repetition that gets me and used to get the old man until his hearing got so bad. The reason he would not wear his hearing aids lived with him. He loved her, but she doesn't shut up and doesn't realize she has just told you the same self-centered story for the ten thousandth time. That wouldn't be so bad, but you have to respond in some way. Today, at the clinic, I told her not to tell me the same old negative story. I picked up a Reader's Digest and read the following joke (more or less):

Jack woke up hung over, aching, with a black eye and read a note on the bedside table, "Darling, I've made you breakfast and have gone to the store to get fixings for your favorite dinner. I love you." He stumbled out of bed and found his breakfast and his son. "Can you tell me what happened last night?" His son said that he came home soused, tripped over a chair and got a black eye. Jack showed him the note and asked if he understood it. "Oh, that was when Mom got you to bed. She tried to take off your clothes but you fought and yelled for her to stop, you were married."


She laughed and laughed. I wound up tearing the joke out so she could bring it to dinner. (Yes, that was me.) Easily amused, she just needs a lot of attention, like a four year old. It turns out the ache in her back was a cracked rib and they put a belt on it. Now she will need help dressing, another thing to be arranged on my end.

Well, there is no cute end to this post, just thanks for letting me vent. I appreciate it.