Just a Day with Some Great People

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Oonagh is 100 years old and never, ever stops moving. When she was younger she was a sports enthusiast. It is warming watching her go about her day. Her style of dementia is fixating on areas of her past and narrate it. Her narration isn’t just about that but if she is moving around from place to place in the unit she will give a turn-by-turn. When Oonagh was around twenty, she ended the only relationship she had. “When I said, ‘goodbye,’ I meant goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.”


Padriac wasn’t having a normal day. He is a sweet man by nature but the head cold he has just made him so complacent.


Sorcha got a new wheelchair. A Broda. It is perfect for her. She has been sitting up more. Laughing. (Lord, I love her little laugh.) She has returned to feeding herself.


Maeve had a fall in the middle of the night. She has been a little more out of sorts. She grinds her teeth together when she is most unsettled. She, also, is really emotional. They call it Sundowning. Although, hers is perpetual. I just want to hold her all day long.


Finbar had a 92nd birthday a few days prior. He was still receiving birthday cards from his family. I was reading them to him. I never seen him get so emotional to the point he was crying. On the day of his birthday, he bit his tongue so hard that it took out a chunk of it. So, between his crying from happiness, he was bleeding from the pieces of his tongue that was falling out. 


Coll and Colum are a pair of characters. Colum is continent while Coll isn’t. Coll has a habit of pulling his man-part out in public. Within minutes of each other, I had to zip their flies or fully button and zip them up. 


Today somewhat felt like there was a full moon coming because their behaviors were not within the normals of these people.

Today’s Mantra

The First:

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Currently, I’m sitting in Sorcha’s room waiting for 8 am to get here. My partner Miranda and I have done most of the complete care on our other 15 residents.


Sorcha is my favorite. Listening to her laugh at the air. While staring at the ceiling always gets me.


She has a tendency to hit, attempt to bite, and to dig her nails into your arm if she feels threatened. If she is in pain and you unknowingly touch the area she makes it a habit to retaliate. I honestly don’t blame her. Granted she doesn’t know what she is doing or means to so I take it as a love tap.


Others have gotten uber sensitive about her violence towards us. Some have even taken it personal and quit. I’m in it for the long hull with Sorcha.


I told her I love her when greeting her just before I started to get her ready for the day. She Star Wars’d me with “I know.”


Sorcha is mostly nonverbal. She can say very limited words such as, “yes, no (with heavy sarcasm), okay, I guess.” When she is lucid, she might sling a rambled sentence. These are the times I let her lead a “conversation.”


Another resident today is more or less the same as Sorcha in verbal skills. Padriac is my sweet giant. He likes to fidget with things. He used to tinker pre-dementia diagnosis. I did my 5 am rounds on him this morning to check to see if his Tranquility was wet (it was dry) and I gave him a firm pat on the shoulder while telling him that I’d be right back to get him ready for the day. He says to me, “okay, sweetheart.”


He’s never said that to anyone before. Melted my heart.


I hope you enjoy my stories of my beloved “grandmas and grandpas.” I share these with you to give some transparency of each dementia case I am involved with. No two are the same.

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