Today I was working in the front garden. I was digging out Grape Hyacinths and Bluebells that are always threatening to overtake every other plant.
A lady stopped to pass the time of day. She lives fairly close by and I see her often, and wave. Occasionally we have a brief chat.
Today, she greeted me with, “Oh, I didn’t realise that you lived there, so close to me!” She told me that she was Secretary of the local Allotment Society, and how busy that kept her. She also informed me that she had a pacemaker fitted, and how it had given her a new lease of life.
The conversation progressed along traditional lines and then she set off to continue her journey home.
I did not let on that we had had an identical conversation last time she passed by when I was gardening at the front, almost at the same spot.
As she left I said, “I’m Peter by the way!”
She reminded me of her name.
For the life of me, I cannot remember what it is!!
Look here where Kat Myrman has this wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 140 characters or fewer.
Here is this week’s prompt:
and my 2 attempts:
Sophie, the dementia care cat, knew that she may be roughly handled, she didn’t mind. She’d seen too many come and go, but loved them all!
Claude had been a faithful companion to Mary for 15 years. This was the best lap in the world. Together they breathed a last contented sigh!
We all know what a Will is, and we’ve all made one haven’t we?
Of course! It would be silly not to have done so.
How about a Living Will? Good idea too!
These are not things to do when you are older, they are things that we all should have done long ago. If you haven’t, then arrange to do it soon.
I would add a further will, a Dementia Will. That is, how you would wish to be treated if you have to live with Dementia. You can read mine here:
Please use it as a basis for your own. I pray that it sits, unused, forever!
A couple of months ago, completely out of the blue, I received an e mail from the editor of an American website, asking if I would be willing to be a guest blogger on their site. They had read my blog and thought that their readers may be interested in what I had to say.
After some serious thought, I decided to give it a go. Here is a link to my first blog.
See what you think!
Now that I’ve grabbed your attention I can reveal that the following are real instances of encounters with patients by emergency staff.
A very smart looking lady, who was 106, presented with an incredibly itchy back. She told the doctor that she had no one to scratch it for her and asked for his help. Thinking that she must be confused the doctor started assessing her capacity, asking various questions. She sailed through the answers and, on the final one “Who sits on the throne?” she replied “ Doctor, it’s Queen Elizabeth the second. Now are you going to help me or not?”
The doctor decided he could not deny so venerable a lady some relief so set to giving her back a good scratch. She was rather deaf and started screaming “Up. up…. down, down…Oh yes!” At this stage the A & E sister flung back the curtains!
A doctor’s first experience of sewing up a very large cut on the head of an unconscious drunk went very well, despite the doctor being incredibly anxious with shaking hands. The closure was perfect, apart from the fact that he had stitched his glove to the top of the man’s head. The nurse had to leave the room in hysterics. They did not tell the patient!
A very sweet 90 year old lady had suffered a fall. She told the nurse that her husband had died about a year ago. The nurse asked what she missed about him the most, expecting a reply of companionship, or someone to hug. The lady said, “He had a lovely great big penis, and he knew just what to do with it.”
Really powerful words by a great writer. Read and enjoy!
The Elders of the tribe
hold council for the young
offering the wisdom gleaned
through time. Wrinkled faces
bowed backs, they listen patiently
then, in brevity of words, offer
possibilities to consider, leaving
final decisions to wait until
all have been heard and a
vote taken; justice, fairness
compassion guide the process.
Now our Elders are abandoned
in hallways of loneliness
institutions where they sit
drugged into silence
to wait without honor
until death steals them away
and another forgotten
mother or father finds
their place of lost dreams.
Oh, you ungrateful children
your time will come when
you, too, are cast away
left on the roadside
like a forgotten shoe
you change a culture
that no longer respects
their elders to one
that cherishes all ages
from womb to tomb
and into the Great Beyond.
Source: Council of Elders
Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.”
Said the old man, “I do that too.”
The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.”
“I do that too,” laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, “I often cry.”
The old man nodded, “So do I.”
“But worst of all,” said the boy, “it seems
Grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.”
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
“I know what you mean,” said the little old man.”
― Shel Silverstein