Friday, November 28, 2008

Sorry about your stroke, but I need to get to town...

The Rock Ridge bus goes to town every Friday morning for anyone who wants or needs to go shopping. It usually leaves at 9am. Today, at about 9:10, a resident came into my office to let me know the bus hadn't pulled up yet. She's aggravated (of course!) and continues to grumble about needing to get to the pharmacy.

Meanwhile, Bus Driver is with another resident.....who is having symptoms indicative of a TIA, or mini-stroke. We explain that Bus Driver is taking care of the urgent need of another resident. "Well," the bus-ride-waiting resident huffed. "She could have timed that better!"

Memo to self: Should you ever decide to have a stroke, be sure it is at the convenience of others.

* * * * *
Here's an email funny I received this morning. People send me old folk jokes all the time. Go figure!

Miss Beatrice, the church organist, was in her eighties and had never been married. She was admired for her sweetness and kindness to all. One afternoon the pastor came to call on her and she showed him into her quaint sitting room. She invited him to have a seat while she prepared tea. As he sat facing her old Hammond organ, the young minister noticed a cut-glass sitting on top of it. The bowl was filled with water, and in the water floated, of all things, a condom! When she returned with tea and scones, they began to chat. The pastor tried to stifle his curiosity about the bowl of water and its strange floater, but soon it got the better of him and he could no longer resist. 'Miss Beatrice', he said, 'I wonder if you would tell me about this?' pointing to the bowl. 'Oh, yes,' she replied, 'Isn't it wonderful? I was walking through the park a few months ago and I found this little package on the ground. The directions said to place it on the organ, keep it wet and that it would prevent the spread of disease. Do you know I haven't had the flu all winter.'

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Don't Try This at Home

Today's lesson brought to you by Rock Ridge:

Never attempt to put fecal matter down a garbage disposal.

Enough said?

Friday, November 21, 2008

Friday Fun

It has certainly been a week. I could write about Gladys coming to my office twenty times in two days to tell me that her brother was having open heart surgery without anesthesia. I could write about the grumpy resident who stood up in the middle of lunch and angrily "shushed" another table who was laughing and enjoying themselves. Or I could write about the male resident who celebrated turning 97 this week by kissing me on the neck. Who has a better job than me, right?

But.... I thought this sounded like more fun, and I have no idea what I'm going to find here in a minute when I open the file. (Lends an air of great excitement, no?) So, from P.O.M via Chia, two of the cool people/runners/bloggers I met while in Portland this fall, here is the alfer life's Friday Fun:

1. Pick the 4th folder on your computer.
2. Pick the 4th Picture.
3. Explain the picture.
4. Tag 4 more peeps.

Awww! He's so darn cute. This is my nephew Noah (my sister's son), who is now 8. We were dancing at my brother's wedding reception. Noah was the ringbearer in the wedding. Their wedding colors were camo, hence my dress. That's my uncle in the background, busting a cool move. I believe this picture was snapped after the bride and groom "cut the cheese" (cheesecake instead of wedding cake, but there were also whoopie cushions involved), but *before* my brother started stripping to Saturday Night Fever on the dance floor as my sister and I collected (and wore) the cast-off tuxedo clothing. Not that too many people noticed, because most of them had consumed entirely too much of the keg. A picture really is worth a thousand words, huh!?

I tag anyone else who wants to have a little Friday Fun!

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Always Interesting

This reminds me of one of Shakespeare's comedies. You know, when everyone thinks they know what is really going on, but in reality no one does? It's so damn confusing I can't even figure out how to post about it, but I'm going to give it a shot...

Phone rings. "Thank you for calling Rock Ridge, how can I help you?" It's the police. It isn't often the police call here. This can't be good.

"Do you have a resident named Mr. First and Last Name?" Yes. Yes we do.

"We have his wife down here at the station and she claims he is missing. Apparently he was in the car and when she came out of the store he was gone." Aha.

I didn't know this during the first conversation with the police officer (yes, there was more than one), but at this point, the police think the wife has dementia (not true) and they don't believe she really has a husband, which is why they called here. After I tell them the supposed missing person actually does exist, they then theorize that he wasn't even with her and she just forgot that she left him at home. The police wanted me to see if I could find him here.

He's not here.

Imagine much confusion and chaos before I finally figure out they think Wife is crackers. We clear that up. Husband is found. All is well. Almost.

Wife had gone into the store and left Husband in the car. While Wife was in the store, Husband decided he needed a bathroom. Immediately. So he went into a nearby office building to find one. Which is where he was while Wife frantically searched for him. Husband and Wife are finally reunited at the police station and the confusion unfolds. The police do not understand Husband and Wife. Husband and Wife don't understand the police. The only thing apparent to everyone: Husband didn't make it to the bathroom in time. We're talking number two here, folks. (thankfully I wasn't there to witness this...I was just lucky enough to be enlightened by all parties after the dust settled. oh how i love this place.)

Monday, November 17, 2008

Pearl's Purse

I'm guessing 30 or so easily outweighs a toddler. As I was taking this picture, she said "I used to have a camera like that."

"You did?" I asked.

"Yeah, until someone STOLE IT."

Aha. Let the work week begin.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Blahs and Big Butts

I did make it home from Puerto Vallarta, although the lack of posting this week might have indicated otherwise. Between playing catch-up from vacation and trying to adjust to total darkness at 5pm (not to mention all the damp, cold rain) I haven't felt like doing anything besides putting on flannel pants and curling up with hot tea. Blah.


Here's a little story about Garnet, who is 91 years old, about four feet tall, very tiny, and incredibly grouchy. After lunch she came wheeling into my office with her walker. "Look at this," she barked. (I really love it when people stand right inside my office door and bark a command without so much as a "how-do-you-do or have an apple").* I acted like I didn't hear her (sometimes I am so juvenile) because her tone of voice immediately pissed me off.

"I SAID LOOK AT THIS," she repeated as pissed off as she had just made me. She pointed to her walker. I didn't see anything and asked her what I was supposed to be looking at. "It's BROKEN! JUST LOOK! The bolt is coming out of the seat!"

The bolt was not coming out of the seat. There was nothing wrong with the walker. I tell her this. (These walkers have seats on them, so the resident can actually use them as a chair or to transport Pearl's purse)

She didn't like my response. "IT IS TOO BROKEN! And do you know HOW it got broken?" she asks while a waving finger in my face (I'm a big fan of fingers in my face, too).

"I have no idea, Garnet" I sighed, "How?"

"Pearl sat on it, that's how!! She sat right down on my walker like she owned it and you KNOW she has to weigh over 200, all she ever does is eat, eat, eat! Everytime I look at her she's eating something! "

At this point I'm totally done with this conversation because although it is a little bit funny, talking about how much someone weighs is just mean. Garnet, however, wasn't quite finished with me yet. "She can't sit on her own damn walker because it's so loaded down with crap**! YOU need to tell her to KEEP HER BIG BUTT OFF OTHER PEOPLE'S WALKERS!"

And with that she turns in a huff and leaves.

*20 bonus points to anyone who knows what movie that quote came from. Sorry, Taralyn, you can't play.

** I am still looking for the best opportunity to snap a picture of Pearl's walker for your viewing pleasure. Hang in there, it's forthcoming.

Wednesday, November 5, 2008

APB: Missing TP

This afternoon Gladys came into my office wringing her hands. "Hon, I hate to bother you with this but I don't have any toilet paper."

"You don't?" I ask.

"No! That rotten Naomi* took it all! She comes in here in the afternoons and sleeps in my bed a couple hours when I'm not looking. And when she leaves, she takes my toilet paper! Imagine sleeping in my bed and then stealing all my TP! That just isn't right. And now I'm in here telling you about such an unladylike thing as toilet paper."

I giggle and tell her I'll take care of everything. As she leaves she is laughing about toilet paper and says, "You won't want to write this one on your report for today!" For one hot second I actually thought the impossible: She knows about my blog! How weird that she would say that!


Random info...I'm headed to Puerto Vallarta in the morning. I can't wait to put my toes in some sand. Random question...does the hologram stuff on CNN drive anyone else crazy? I think it's dumb. Random old lady report...I'm trying really hard to get a picture of Pearl's purse. Stay tuned, it will be worth the wait.

Have a great week/weekend!

*Naomi is still dead.

Tuesday, November 4, 2008

Voter Distress

Things have been pretty busy at the Ridge lately, and unfortunately it's been boring stuff like updating policy and budget planning. Bluk! Not much else is happening...although today Pearl threw a literal fit in my office because the bus wasn't going to the polls, and she needed to vote dammit. The reason the bus wasn't going to take residents to vote today is because they all voted absentee. Including Pearl.

"Nooooo I didn't! Don't you think I'd know if I voted or not?" Red-faced, bulging veins. Yelling. Angry.

Hmmm. Yeah, I would think that. If you didn't have dementia and wheel around the a purse the size a garden tractor on your walker.

Gotta go! Obama is finally going to speak!