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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ You know I marched in the Women’s March, right? I’d love to go on and on about it, because it was so awesome, but there’s so much else to share with you, after you watch my quick slide show, of course:


~~ I was told a story about a couple where the wife’s mother-in-law had dementia. She came to live with the son and daughter-in-law and remained in their home for many years. The wife was stressed and unhappy but loved her husband. When the mother-in-law passed, she left behind an insurance policy in her son’s name. He cashed it in and bought a speedboat. The wife cashed in the marriage and filed for divorce. At the first meeting of the parties, the wife related the events, and when she was done, the hubby’s attorney turns to him and says, “You’re lucky she’s just divorcing you. I would have shot you.”

~~ Dementia-ville proceeds apace in my house. Seems a nurse visited the patient to draw blood and the insertion spot blew up and turned quite red. This happened about 10:00 am, I was in the house at noon, and my spouse returned at 6:00 pm. At 6:05 pm, Lady Chatterley says to him, “I need ice” and explains what happened. Of course, he grows irate and wonders why she didn’t tell me, show me, and/or ask me for ice six hours ago… but Lady C. just shrugs.

~~ Lady C. takes three showers a day.
One at 8:00 am, a second at 9:30 am after she cleans up the patient, and a third in the evening after her patient goes to bed. I get the two after cleaning up pee and poop, but what’s with the 8:00 am shower? She uses up quite a bit of the hot water in her very long aqua cascade, only to rinse and repeat 90 minutes later. We now have to plan our mornings around her (yes, we could talk to her but she doesn’t listen to a thing I say, and this is not a battle someone I live with wants to wage).

~~ The patient is screeching as if she’s on a medieval torture rack. I walk in to see what I can do — she laughs and gives me the stink-eye. I walk back out and finish reading an article in the paper about the diminished immunity of caregivers and the greater incidence of stress-related illnesses.

~~ Someone asks after the situation and I relate a bit of the latest happenings. She tells me that her aunt lives with her cousin, and the aide that comes in there “smells like dollar-store perfume, Listerine, and cigarettes.” She’s envious that Lady C. showers three times a day!

~~ OK, more on the march (the picture in the middle is of some of the hats I knit for NYC and DC marchers):


Finally, while I’m in a sharing mode:



Have a good weekend!
LET’S GO RANGERS!
GO, NY KNICKS, GO!

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