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Rogue
Member Posts: 199 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 31/8/2007 at 06:05 PM |
Today my group at work volunteered to staff a carnival held at an
Alzheimer's center (to get there you have to drive down Ronald Reagan
Cross-County Highway, amusingly enough). In the spirit of the disease,
this will be disjointed and in no particular order. The doors are fine
coming in, but are on motion-sensor locks for thirty seconds going out to
prevent escapes, or perhaps teach the perspective of time. The old Marine
did a good job and expected prizes for all the games, and by god he got it.
The therapy dog liked cheerios for some odd reason, and would slobber them
out of the patients' hands like a drunken frat boy attempting cunnilingus.
Gambling proved massively popular, and the patients would not give up their
fake money. One woman "bought" a bag of cotton candy with her play money
winnings, then kept future winnings in the bag of cotton candy, refusing to
give up any of it. My coworkers tried to fill a wading pool using a soaker
hose with the end cap still in place and on a watering timer that was off,
I think the patients would have done better. Nobody knows how to reach
these people, but they all have grand important stories and we as a species
will lose something when they pass on. They can be reached, but not like
infants. Even if they don't participate, they like watching, and the frail
ones can kick your ass at cornhole. The staff talked down to the patients
like children, which some patients endured with quiet indignant resignation
and some with fear, but none seemed to appreciate. I can't remember who I
am, but I am human and I demand respect. Tattoos and fortune telling also
popular, the old Marine getting his first one at the age of "god's older
brother", and "Ken" (his hat said so, startled him a little every time you
used his name without asking anyway) said his fortune was good and when
asked if there were women in his future, replied "god, i sure hope so"
before heading over to the tattoo booth because, women dig tattoos.
Revenge was had as the staff stepped into the pie-in-the-face booth, and
patients lit up as they took back some of their dignity in the form of
whipped cream and paper plates. Yes, doggie, I have the bag of cheerios,
be patient, I'm watching the gambling wheel. The carousel might be a
gazebo with paper horses around it, but damned if it didn't get some
smiles. Yes, that's supposed to be a clown, but it's actually a ladder
wrapped in balloons and bright cloth with a wig. I'm sure it was more
impressive through the eyes of some of the residents. Who let that guy
have a golf club? ____________________ Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time. |
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Kahlir
Occasional Poster Posts: 13 Registered: 8/12/2004 Status: Offline
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posted on 1/9/2007 at 04:07 AM |
I didnt realize that gambling was popular among alzheimer's patients. The
image of your co-workers trying to fill the pool is wonderful. It seems
some of us are more human than others for better or worse. |
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Rogue
Member Posts: 199 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 1/9/2007 at 11:45 AM |
By "coworkers" I mean, highly paid IT office guys, corporate VPs, all that.
The soaker hose has become a larger metaphor for my workplace. If I don't
put a bullet in my head before I quit there, it will be one and two-thirds
miracles. ____________________ Plenty of time, my sweet. Plenty of time. |
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Meranda_Jade
Fanatic Posts: 511 Registered: 31/12/1969 Status: Offline
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posted on 4/9/2007 at 01:19 PM |
Even if you work in IT, you're still in Ohio.
Actually, I think that people everywhere treat their old and infirm like
infants. Like infants and children, they have little control over their own
lives and look to others to care for them.
Imagine putting your small child into a place where they are watched over
by someone who is underpaid, disaffected, and in general doesn't care.. who
treats your child like just another chore to get through... oh, wait. They
call those daycares.
Now, imagine that you are a grown person, with all your life's experiences
behind you, with the pride and dignity of an adult who has overcome all of
life's obstacles... and your mind is slipping away. Sometimes you have
moments of clarity, enough to bring home the fact that you are being spoken
to, and treated like, a preschool age child. Everything you have worked for
in your life is down the toilet, and you aren't even being afforded the
simple dignity of being able to choose whether or not you wish to
participate in a silly little carnival. You have people forcibly puppeting
your limbs to make you participate in activities that don't even interest
you.
I swear, if I am ever in that position, somebody come and rescue me. Please
make it so I can keep what little dignity I have left.
____________________
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