Tuesday, February 6, 2007

Just So You Know...

Sadly/Thankfully Winter break has come to an end for me, so I will not be able to keep you all up to the minute with reports from Ground Zero- 326 Spalding Rd. I'll still be stopping in for visits to the grandparents once a week or so, so check back now and then for Scary Grandpa updates. I will be posting other random things for your pleasure though, such as little tidbits about my job as an eldery "companion" which can be quite interesting.

When we were eating dinner the other night someone said something about "pieces" of something and Grandpop asks, "Now what are you talking about feces for?" Fun times.

So my job as the eldery companion has only taken me to one couple's apartment in an assisted living situation, and I've gone twice from 7 pm until 9 am the next day. During the night I make sure the old man (I don't think I'm allowed to give names and such, so I'll be vague.)doesn't fall over and break a hip, again, when he's using his portable urinal. This old man is nearly deaf and you literally have to yell at him, in the left ear- in order for him to hear anything you're saying. So it's 2 or 3 am and he does his business and I go to dump the pee and he asks where I'm going. Because it's 3 am I don't really want to scream and wake up anyone else, but he really can't hear me unless I yell. So here I am screaming to this old man at 3 in the morning, "I SAID I'M GOING TO GO EMPTY YOUR URINAL."
After dumping the piss I think to myself that this old man probably once thought that he'd never let himself get like this- just as I'm thinking at the moment- but now he's just a little frame of bones and bruised skin with a brain that desn't function so well anymore.
So why do people spend their lives working their ass off saving up money- never taking the time to go enjoy life when they can still walk and pee with a nice flow- all so that later in life they can afford to live in a sterile assisted living apartment once they retire and grow old, and pay someone like me to come sleep on their couch for the night 24/7, draining away their funds?
So here's what I've concluded- Have fun while you still can, and kill yourself in a fun way like an OD or driving a Ferrari (rented) over the Grand Canyon at 200 mph, before you no longer have the brains to realize that your life is pointless and you're only a strain on your family and their funds. Because I don't think any of us ever wants to be working through a weekend at age 35, only to be able to pay for some kid to empty your piss at 3 am when you're 94.
By the way- I am not going to kill myself (any time soon) so don't pass this along to a helpful psychiatrist. I'm talking like 70's, 80's, 90's, 100's etc... As long as you're still with it at 105 then keep on rockin' you senior citizen you.
And that is all I have to say about that.

Thursday, February 1, 2007

This happened a few weeks ago...

At the end of dinner tonight, Grandpop asked for wine. This was after he had had his usual amount of beers, and if you know Grandpop really well then you would know that- to put it frankly- wine gets Grandpop fucked up. He asks for a red wine but instead Grandmom tells him to try the bottle of white that is already open. It's a good thing his memory doesn't work too well because then he would have remembered that he had tried this same old bottle of white wine the day before- or that he had nearly choked on it because it was so old and that even he had spit it out in the sink.
So we give him the bottle of white and he breaks off the cork- of course anything is expected to become an ordeal when dealing with Grandpop.
"Bring me that remote," can easily turn into a game quite similar to that you would play with an old blind man, except Grandpop does have one eye and you don't play games with him unless you want to torture yourself with repeating the rules every time someone has a turn. He'll hand you the phone and then a spoon and then he'll forget what he was doing, and then he'll tell you he has to go wash his hands because he touched something- and of course he can't wash them at the kitchen sink, he has to go back to the bathroom to do it.
So he breaks the cork and asks for a cork screw, which I gladly hand to him and quickly make my way out of the kitchen. He would only get even more drunk the longer anyone stayed around, and even Grandmom starts to retreat to the bathroom for her post-dinner crossword puzzle (slash 1/2 of a Marlboro Ultralite 100) and more recently sudoku. On our way out of the kitchen she winks to me- and we both know he has no idea he has ever tried this bottle of wine before.

Do you know your presidential candidates?

Grandmom asks Grandpop and I if we heard what Joe Biden said about Barack Obama.
I reply with a yes and Grandpop gives a blank look.
"Do you know who Barack Obama is?" Grandmom asks G-Pop.
"Yeah- He's an Indian," Grandpop replies. "Yeah he's from Asia somewhere's."
"No George," G-Mom sighs, "he's a Senator from Illinois."
Grandpop gives a few hard laughs, at what I'm not sure and then he says, "Well golly!" and that's the end of the conversation.