memoir

My Condolences

imageOne of the hardest parts of  being a nurse is comforting and supporting the bereaved family at the time of death.  Normally, family members are heartbroken, grieving at the death.  On a few occasions, I witnessed something different.  Mr. Jones, an elderly patient owned a successful insurance agency. Every morning, he donned freshly laundered silk pajamas.  When discharged,  He wore a fine finest suit, shirt, shoes, and hat and took great pride in being noticed.  He bragged of buying a new Cadillac every year, dining at the most prestigious restaurants, and enjoying a membership at The Country Club.

His son, Junior Jones was in his late fifties and had always worked for Daddy.  It appeared Mr. Jones was none to generous nor kind to Junior.  Junior dressed in cheap clothes and drove an ancient compact car.  It must have been miserable since he was so tall he had to fold up like a jackknife to fit in it.  When Junior came to the hospital to consult with Daddy about the business, Daddy was condescending, snide, and critical, never showing Junior the least respect.

One the morning Daddy died, we’d called to notify Junior his father’s death appeared imminent.  Junior came streaking into his father’s room just moments before Mr. Jones’ death.  I offered my condolences.  Junior ignored me, opened the drawer of the bedside table, dug out the keys to his father’s Cadillac, his father’s checkbook and left the room without speaking.  A nursing assistant who was a friend of the family walked him out to the parking garage.  He handed her the keys to his small car and drove off in his father’s big, black Cadillac.  That was different!  I guess he’d had enough.

In Progress

What have you been working on?

Thank goodness, I don’t have to think about this. I am crocheting a gift for a friend. I expect to finish in a day or so. I start projects with great anticipation but my enthusiasm flags toward the end. When I finish this project , I will make my friend a purple and gold sweater. She is a great fan of LSU. She dresses up for all the games.

Lynn and Lou Part 15 Gathering Eggs: A Chicken Farm Tale

”Hurry and get dressed! We’re going to Uncle Albert’s today. The men are going to pitch in and dig him a well. Lynn, you and Lou go let the chickens out of the henhouse and feed them. Take this bucket and gather the eggs on your way back in. Billy put out water for the dogs and the chickens. Do NOT get wet. Come straight back in.”

The kids took off. Lynn opened the henhouse door and the chickens swarmed out. A fat hen jumped on top of Lou’s head. It was terrifying. She screamed and ran all over the chicken yard. The hen got tired of the wild ride and jumped off. Lynn laughed till tears ran down her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I forgot to tell you they do that sometimes. We raised all our chickens from babies, so they still think they’re tiny chicks.”

Yeah, sure, I’ll bet you forgot.” Lou replied. She wasn’t much upset. It probably did look funny.

“If you’re still scared, I’ll feed the chickens. They flock all around trying to get to the feed. One of them might jump on you. They won’t hurt you.” Lynn said.

”That’s okay. I was just surprised. I’ll feed them.” She scattered chicken feed all inside the chicken yard. They quickly lost interest in her. “This is actually kind of fun.”

Lynn took the egg basket over to the row of nesting boxes. They were about head high. Rather than take the time to climb the ladder, Lynn stood on tiptoe, pulling one egg from each nest. When she reached in the last nest, she screamed and took off at a run, slinging eggs along the way. “Snake! Snake! Mother! There’s a snake in the nest!” she screamed. “I hate snakes!”

Aunt Kat came at a run. She grabbed a hoe next to the chicken yard gate. She climbed a couple of steps up the ladder and raked the snake out on the ground where she chopped his head off with the hoe. The dogs were going crazy with joy. One grabbed the head, another the body. Feeling cheated, the others took off after the two lucky ones, trying to snatch their prize. Aunt Kat laughed and put her hands on her hips, “Well, I bet I won’t have to remind anybody not to reach in the nest without looking, will I? She gathered up the few unbroken eggs. “Girls, take the hoe and scratch some dirt over these broken eggs. We don’t want the dogs to start sucking eggs. Hurry, Daddy’s almost ready to go.”

The kids were in awe of what she’d done.”Your mother is the bravest woman I’ve ever seen!” said Lou: “I’m so glad I didn’t gather eggs.”

When they got back in, Mr. Al was loading the old truck with shovels and rope. Aunt Kat and the girls brought out a big basket with picnic lunch. “Get in the back and sit down. Don’t you climb up on the rails. If I have to stop and straighten you out, it won’t be good!”

”Yes Sir” they all answered. No one could have convinced her to move. She’d never seen anyone ride in the back of a truck.

Aunt Kat came around to the back of the truck and handed Lynn a brown paper bag of hot sausage biscuits with jam. “You each have two apiece, but don’t waste them. You might want one for a snack later” she said. She got in the cab of the truck. She put Connie in the car seat and clung to the little baby as the truck bumped off down the gravel road. Dust fogged up behind the truck.

Lou dug in. The biscuit sandwiches were so good, she gobbled both. What a wonderful way to start the morning.

ER DIAGNOSES

In my many years working as an acute dialysis nurse, on the evenings I was on call, the last thing I did before packing it in for the day was look to see if any of my patients who were frequently admitted were were being seen in the Emergency Room. If they were, I checked their diagnosis to see if I was likely to be called back to do an emergency treatment. I’d much rather tend to problems sooner than layer. I never learned to enjoy being awakened at two am for care I could have completed before midnight.

The first employee a patient saw upon entering the ER was usually a clerk with no medical training. They asked the patient what the problem was and typed it directly in. Should the patient be in distress, a nurse was summoned immediately. Some diagnoses in the computer raised more questions than they answered.

  1. Zipped britches on weiner(hurts to think about that)
  2. Spinning and vomiting.(that one sounds like a real mess)

3. Fried worms in ear(Grandma used folk cure)

4. Lightbulb, sausage,flashlight up rectum(not uncommon)

5. Paper cut(wanted work excuse)

6. Request viagra prescription

7. Baby threw up once after eating squash(fine now. Eating chips)

8. Found 2 ticks on pants(hadn’t attached, mom wanted child checked)

9. Nausea(patient had vomiting phobia)

10. Mosquito bite(no rash, allergic reaction)

Thankfully ERs are there for people who need them but everything is not an emergency!

Navigating Life with Seniors: Lessons Learned

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imageI wonder if I do a lot of “old person” stuff? It’s probably one of those things your kid would have to tell you. Let me explain. After we went to the grocery store, I took Mother to Gateway to pick up her car. She took her small bag of groceries with her and went in to pay and get her keys while I waited in the lot off to the side, To be sure everything worked out okay. I knew I should have gone in with her. A few minutes later, she pulled behind me, blocking me and two other drivers. As the other drivers honked, Mother left her car in the drive and came over to talk to me.

“They just had to fix the front brakes. The back ones were fine! It only cost one hundred twenty-one dollars.” She was beaming.

“That’s great, but you need to move your car. People are honking!”

“Well they’re just gonna have to wait. I have to get my groceries.” She replied, huffily.

“Mother, you already put your bag in the car.”

“Oh, I forgot. Anyway, I had to tell you everything was okay.”

Annoyed at my nerve, she got in her car, pulled out and cut it too short, running over the curb as she pulled out.

About fifteen minutes after I got home, I got a call, “Could you see if I left my phone in your car. I can’t find it, anywhere.”

She had.

A Glimpse into Historical Language: Dialect Words Explained

When I was a kid I was fascinated by the dialect of those of my grandparent’s generation. I am referring to family members born between 1884 and 1887. Their language was unique and intriguing. Manners were much stricter then and children were forbidden to interrupt. I learned to listen very carefully and inferred meanings from their use in context. Should I not be able to interpret, save the word until I could ask my parents. Language was intoxicating. I’ll share some from my collection below, used in context, the way I learned them.

Airy: “Airy(any)one of them tablecloths will be fine.”

Nairy: “Nairy(neither) one of them is worth the powder it would take to blow them away.”

Na’arn: Ain’t na’arn(none)of them gals acting right.”

Et: “I et(ate) all I could hold.”

Het: “She got mighty het up(angry) when her man run off!”

Heared: I just couldn’t believe it when I heared(heard) it!“

Holp: Holp(help) me with

Holpt: He holpt(helped) us quite a bit.”

Fur piece: It’s a fur piece(quite a distance) over there.”

Tolerable: I’m feeling tolerable.” (not well, but better)

Fitten: That slop ain’t fitten(good enough) for the dogs.”

Thanks for: Thanks for(please pass)the beans.”

Cyarn: That place smells like cyarn.” (Carrion)

Pert’near: He ought to know better than that! He’s pert’near (pretty near) grown!”

Young’uns: They got all them young’uns(children) to feed.”

Chillun: All their chillun(children) eats dirt.”

Farred up: Too late for talking. He’s all farred upready to fight.”

Passel: “Oh, they got a passel(a lot) of hounds under their porch.”

Navigating Life with Seniors: Lessons Learned

image

imageI wonder if I do a lot of “old person” stuff? It’s probably one of those things your kid would have to tell you. Let me explain. After we went to the grocery store, I took Mother to Gateway to pick up her car. She took her small bag of groceries with her and went in to pay and get her keys while I waited in the lot off to the side, To be sure everything worked out okay. I knew I should have gone in with her. A few minutes later, she pulled behind me, blocking me and two other drivers. As the other drivers honked, Mother left her car in the drive and came over to talk to me.

“They just had to fix the front brakes. The back ones were fine! It only cost one hundred twenty-one dollars.” She was beaming.

“That’s great, but you need to move your car. People are honking!”

“Well they’re just gonna have to wait. I have to get my groceries.” She replied, huffily.

“Mother, you already put your bag in the car.”

“Oh, I forgot. Anyway, I had to tell you everything was okay.”

Annoyed at my nerve, she got in her car, pulled out and cut it too short, running over the curb as she pulled out.

About fifteen minutes after I got home, I got a call, “Could you see if I left my phone in your car. I can’t find it, anywhere.”

She had.

Grandson’s Fascination: The Mystery of a Dead Fish

imageWhen my grandson was about two, I went to babysit for a few days while his preschool was on break.  While he was happy enough to have me visit, he wasn’t altogether satisfied with my babysitting services.  I spent a great deal of time trying to find an activity that pleased him in the late afternoons before his mom got home.  They lived Continue reading →

You Poor Baby (Part 2)

vintage baby

part 1      https://atomic-temporary-73629786.wpcomstaging.com/2015/07/11/you-poor-baby/

Furious at finding her washing machine packed to the rim with freshly laundered diapers mixed with freshly- laundered gobs of poop, Mother roused Carol from where she snored on the sofa, oblivious to her miserable, bawling baby. “Carol, come here. Let me show you how to use this washer! You can’t just throw filthy diapers in it without rinsing this stuff out.” Mother got a tub, made Carol scoop the poopy diapers out and clean the washer, then sent Carol out to rinse the dirty diapers under the faucet before bringing them back to the washer. “Be sure you dump that dirty water from the tub behind the chicken house, not in the back yard. You may as well get the rest of this mess soaking.” She pointed to the pile of poopy diapers that had not yet had a ride in her abused washer. Carol looked furiously at Phyllis and me as she stormed off to do this demeaning task, clearly much better delegated to underlings like us.

We did have to tend her poor, miserable baby while she slaved over the diaper rinsing, but that was better than rinsing out poopy diapers ranging from rock-hard lumps to runny diarrhea, depending on the vintage. The stench was horrendous, as evidenced by Carol’s retching. I have no doubt Carol was sick when she came back in. She took to her bed(our sofa) to recover. Clearly accustomed to help with her baby, she was reluctant to leave her repose to wash bottles and prepare formula, preferring to call out for one of of kids to “bring me a bottle!” when he cried. The first time, Mother let the hungry little guy have a bottle, despite the fact it was an expensive, hypoallergenic formula prescribed for her own tiny baby. She quickly pointed the case of milk she’d bought for Carol’s baby, the kind Carol requested. “Oh this will be fine,” Carol said. “He likes it!”

“Carol, you need to fix your own bottles! I bought you what you asked for. This stuff is forty cents a can!” Mother explained.

Carol was clearly offended. She dawdled a bit after he finished his bottle, put him down, and shut herself in the bathroom for a good crying session. Eventually, she came out and made a collect call to her mother, insisting she come, NOW! Mama couldn’t come, NOW! More crying on the phone. We were stuck together till the weekend. Carol had no problems leaving his bottles lying about to sour after baby was satisfied. Should he cry out when a sour bottle sat handy, she had no qualms about trying to get him to take it.

The next three days lasted an eternity. At my parent’s insistence, Carol did end up giving her baby good care while they waited for Mama, but she turned him over to Mama as soon as she arrived. His bottom had healed, he’d plumped up, and even played a bit with good care. Poor little guy didn’t get much of a pass. He was soon back home to be joined by a brother and sister in rapid succession.

Alas, Carol’s marriage fell apart, but before long she found another man and launched into her addiction to having babies she had no interest or ability to care for, eventually delivering eleven sad children. At a family reunion once, I heard someone ask how long she was going to keep having babies. She replied, “As long as God wants me to.” It was heartbreaking to see her children suffer from her neglect and ignorance.