Visited the Hilton today. Aunt Olla was in some pain from her pinched nerve. Her leg barked. They had given her pain killer just before I got there, so it was taking ahold as I visited.
Her hearing aid is on the blink. I worked with it, changed batteries, what not, but the nurse came in and informed me they had tried everything and that they were going to send it in for repair Monday. In order to get Aunt Olla to hear me at all, I called her phone from my cell phone and talked into her good ear through the phone.
"You're different!" she said at one point. "Not sure what it is!"
"Are you not making enough money?"
Okay, that hit close to home.
Her memory is bad, and those stupid narcotics make the imagination wild. Aunt Olla is certain that she has an appointment Monday, but there is no such thing. The eye appointment she is worrying about happened last week, and she forgot.
So, I wrote a paragraph out on a piece of paper: "Olive has no appointment Monday. Her hearing aid is going to be fixed." She read that over and that was fine, but two minutes later: "Where am I going Monday?"
I tried to get her not to worry about it, but to no avail. So finally, I wrote out in big letters on a piece of paper: "Doctor's orders: Do not worry!"
I handed it to her. She read it.
"Oh, that Dr. Kanten," she said. "He is so good."
"I am glad you're working with him."