Ruminations From a Cluttered Mind

Today, one of my residents came into my office, angry, accusing my staff of stealing her towels. She did the same thing last week, and I found them for her in laundry, waiting to be delivered. I tried laundry again today but did not find the towels. I sent another nurse to her apartment to locate the towels. For approximately seven minutes (but who's counting?), I heard dear resident recount the indignity of my staff scavenging her apartment for her towels. How was she to bathe? How was she to dry stuff? Ah, look, here is our nurse with your four sets of bath towels from your apartment. They're all here, clean, just hiding away in a cupboard, most likely. Problem solved, right? Unfortunately, dear resident no longer recognized the towels as hers. They are now imposter towels. I asked kind nurse to please return the towels to the apartment. "You do that, and I'll throw them into the hall!" vows resident.

The most consoling thing about caring for people with dementia is also the most consoling thing about caring for little babies. Either way, if they decide you've done them wrong, they won't remember in an hour and you have a chance to try it again.

It snowed today. In honor of the occasion, I present a fitting quote from poet e.e. cummings:

The snow doesn't give a soft, white damn whom it touches.