Where the hell is Tina with Abby? No sooner had I thought it, I heard voices. It was Tracey however, not the nurse. I kept my eyes on John and backed slowly toward the door.
“New resident?” Tracey asked.
I nodded. “His name’s John.”
“I could hear him all the way to the nurse’s station. Where’s Abby?”
“Tina went—”
“Mary?” John had stopped pacing and was looking at Tracey. The change in him was immediate and amazing. His face lit up and all the tension and aggression left his body. “Oh my God, Mary, where have you been?” He rushed toward her and lowered his voice to a near whisper. “They took everything. My wallet, my clothes, everything’s gone.” He grabbed her arm. “Why did you leave me here?”
Tracey quickly fell into the role of Mary. “Shhh, John, it’s okay. I have all your things safe at home.”
“Did you come to take me home?” John asked. “Please, take me home with you.”
I watched Tracey put her hand over John’s. She lifted it from her arm, but continued to hold it as she led him to the chair in the corner and helped him sit. Crouching down in front of him, she said gently, “I can’t take you home yet, John, you need to get better first. These people are here to help you.”
When he tried to protest she shushed him again and assured him, “I’ll be right here with you. I’m not leaving and I won’t let anybody hurt you.” That appeased him for the time being and he seemed content to sit holding her hands quietly.
Now that John seemed more relaxed, I began picking clothes up off the floor and hanging them in the wardrobe. While I worked, I listened to Tracey, her voice low and soothing as she continued to speak to John. I was impressed with how she’d diffused the situation and calmed him so quickly.
Abby came rushing into the room a few minutes later. She moved quickly and efficiently, checking John’s pulse and blood pressure. “What happened?” she asked as she worked.
Carol filled her in while I continued to tidy the room.
When Abby finished with John, she stood and pulled Carol aside. “You’re going to have to keep a closer eye on him, at least until he settles in. We can’t have this happening again.”
“I can’t be with him every second of the day. I was on break.”
“Then you should have asked Tina to keep an eye on him. If he becomes aggressive again let me know right away,” Abby said as she turned to leave.
I couldn’t let her go without trying to talk to her. “Abby?”
She stopped and looked at me, eyebrows raised. “Yes, Sarah. What is it?”
“I need to talk to you about Edith MacAdams. Do you have a few minutes?”
“Not right now. It’s been a busy day. Come to the nurse’s station at the end of the shift. If I’m there, we’ll talk,” she said over her shoulder as she strode out of the room.
John’s shoulders were slumped with exhaustion after his tirade and he went willingly to the relaxation room with Tracey. Napping in his room was not an option in its current state.
Carol and I finished cleaning up the mess. I picked clothes up off the floor and hung them in John’s wardrobe while Carol made the beds. Her rigid posture and terse movements were telling of her mood and we worked in silence for a few moments.
“Do you know who Mary is?” I asked finally.
Carol glanced up, but continued working as she spoke. Despite her size, she moved quickly, with the mindless efficiency of someone who had made thousands of beds. “She’s his wife. She dropped him off here earlier. Could be Tracey’s mother, they look so much alike.”
The incident with John put me behind. By the time I caught up and went to the nurse’s station, it was after two-thirty and Abby was gone. Our talk would have to wait.
Chapter 5 - The Mess
I ARRIVED AT WORK THE next morning determined to find time to speak to Abby before the end of my shift. It would have to be after lunch; mornings in Dementia were nothing short of chaotic. From the moment our shift began, it was a rush to get the residents up and ready for breakfast on time. The rest of the morning was filled with changing sheets, making beds, gathering laundry and taking residents to morning activities such as exercise class and hair appointments.
After lunch, when personal needs were again looked after, some of the residents would settle in for a nap or an afternoon movie. If we were lucky, that left us with a few minutes to do the required documentation and fill the afternoon shift in on any issues before we left for the day.
I started my routine as usual that morning and turned on the dim light beside Edie’s bed shortly after six-thirty. From there I moved on to Sam and Albert, then the twins, and finally into Rose’s room. She and Mrs. Gallo were still asleep. I woke Rose gently and directed her to the bathroom where I helped her get washed and dressed.
When I took her to the lounge ten minutes later, she glanced shyly around the room, wringing her hands nervously. I led her to the sofa where Sam lounged, pried my hand from her tight grip and sat her down beside him. He moved closer, so close their legs touched, and stretched his arm across the back of the sofa behind her. He smiled and winked at her. Rose smiled in return and settled back into the couch.
I hurried back to Hall B to help Tracey get her resident, Mrs. Amaral, out of the lift and into her wheelchair. I smiled down at the large woman affectionately. She spoke almost no English, so Tracey had taught me how to say hello in Portuguese. “Bom dia, Mrs. Amaral.”
It was hard not to favor her. No matter how she was feeling, she always had a smile and a kind word to offer. She suffered from congestive heart failure and needed constant oxygen. Her size and worsening condition had also left her wheelchair bound.
A smile spread across her face until her neck disappeared beneath the many folds of her chin. The prongs of the oxygen tube were pressed farther into her nostrils when her lips curled. She clutched at my hand as she gasped for enough air to speak. “Bom dia, belo,” she wheezed.
Once Mrs. Amaral was settled in her chair, I went down the hall to Mrs. Gallo’s room and opened the curtain between the beds to let a little light in. I didn’t dare turn on her light, or try to wake her too early. She loved her bed and her sleep and didn’t appreciate being woken before she was ready. Mr. Gallo had made it clear to me that she was to be allowed to sleep as late as she wished. If she missed breakfast, that was fine. He would be there to make sure she ate lunch.
I pulled Rose’s bedding back and locked the wardrobe. Tracey came to the door to see if I needed help with Mrs. Gallo’s lift. I glanced at the bed. The covers moved gently up and down with each breath, but Mrs. Gallo didn’t stir. I shook my head, indicating we would come back after breakfast. Tracey looked relieved. She gave me a quick wave and hurried away.
I was sure some of the staff disapproved of the way I did my job. I didn’t always follow the routine and would break protocol if I felt it was best for my residents.
Tranquility had opened in the eighties when nursing homes were still run as institutions with rigid schedules and strict rules. I doubted much had changed in the past thirty years. It was still under the same management and the practices and principles had not kept up with the changing face of elder care.
I understood that, especially when caring for people with dementia, there were times when residents needed help with decision-making. They also needed to be encouraged to eat and exercise and sleep regularly. But, I had a problem with making anyone do anything against their will, especially if it upset them to the point of needing to be sedated.
* * *
I was wheeling Mrs. Sellers out of the dining room after breakfast, when I heard raised voices coming from Hall A. I left Mrs. Sellers sitting beside the aquarium and hurried down the hall. As I got closer I recognized John’s voice. The smell hit me before I even stepped into the room. I turned quickly to get a mask and gown from the cart in the hallway. I pulled on a pair of shoe covers, shoved an extra pair into my pocket, and shrugged into the gow
n as I hurried back to the room.
I stood in the doorway looking around the room as I put on the mask and a pair of gloves. The smell was overwhelming. John’s bed, the floor in front of the bed, and the wall beside it, were covered in feces. John, still in his pajamas, was covered in it as well.
Carol was in the room. She had gloves on, but no mask or gown. She hadn’t noticed me yet. She tried to grab John’s hands, then ducked to avoid being hit by his wildly swinging arms. “John, stop it. Stop it right now!” she cried. Her voice was tense and raised in frustration and only seemed to make him more frantic.
I heard voices and turned to see Tina pushing her resident, Mrs. Baker, down the hall in her wheelchair. The smile on Tina’s face disappeared the moment the smell hit her. She wrinkled her nose and peeked around the doorway into the room. Her hand flew to her mouth as she exclaimed in horror, “Oh, my God!”
“We’re going to need Abby,” I said. “And Tracey. Find Tracey, please, and tell her we need her here.”
Tina jumped at the opportunity to leave and wheeled Mrs. Baker down the hall at a near run.
I walked hesitantly into the room and stopped short of the mess on the floor. “Carol?”
She glanced quickly over her shoulder. Relief flooded her face when she saw me. “Thank God,” she sighed.
She turned and took a step toward me. I quickly took a step back. The look of revulsion on my face must have brought her to her senses. She looked down at herself and cringed.
John calmed down as soon as Carol turned her attention elsewhere. He paced back and forth in front of the window, muttering.
I motioned Carol away from the bed. “Why don’t you go get cleaned up? Tina went to get help. I’m sure they’ll be here any minute.”
She glanced indecisively between John and the door.
“Carol,” I said firmly, before she could say anything that might upset him again. “He’s okay. We’ll take care of him. Go, get cleaned up.”
“Fine. Be back as soon as I can.”
“Uh, you might want to put these on before you leave.” I pulled the shoe covers out of my pocket and held them out to her.
Carol looked down at her feet, then behind her at the mess she’d left. She uttered a sound of disgust. “Thanks,” she mumbled, reaching for them. She stopped when she realized her gloves were covered in feces as well.
I grabbed the wastebasket from beside John’s bed and held it out as she carefully peeled off the gloves.
She dropped them gingerly from her fingertips, lips pressed together tightly, and I handed her a fresh pair of gloves. She put them on, took the shoe covers from me, bent down and pulled them over her shoes. After one last look at John, she hurried from the room.
John was still pacing and mumbling incoherently. His pajama pants were sagging at the back where the worst of the mess had soaked through the flannel. His hands were covered in it as well and I cringed every time he rubbed his face or ran a hand through his thin grey hair. There was no sense trying to talk to him or calm him further. He‘d only been agitated by Carol’s attempts to do so and I had no reason to believe it would be any different for me. All I could do was stay with him until help arrived, which it soon did.
Tina must have briefed Tracey about the situation. She entered the room wearing full protective gear, stood beside me and asked, “Think it’s safe to go near him?”
“He’s a lot calmer than he was when I came in, but I wouldn’t get too close.”
She nodded and took a few cautious steps toward John. He looked up as she approached and immediately became more agitated. “Stay away from me. You hear? Stay away!” he yelled.
Tracey immediately pulled the mask down, away from her face and spoke to him urgently. “John, it’s okay, it’s me.”
He looked confused. “M-Mary? What are you wearing?”
“You had an accident, John. I need to clean it up.”
He looked around the room and grimaced in disgust as though noticing the mess for the first time. His eyes welled up with tears and he lowered his head in shame. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Oh, no, John. It’s not your fault. It was an accident,” Tracey assured him.
He remained silent and continued to stare at the floor, clearly mortified by what he had done.
Tracey took his hand. “It’s okay, John. We’ll get you cleaned up.” She looked back at me. “Sarah, would you grab a gown and some shoe covers for John, please?”
I hurried from the room as Abby came down the hall. “Is he okay?” she asked.
“He was pretty upset, but Tracey seems to have calmed him down,” I said, stopping at the supply cart.
Abby poked her head into the room. She drew back quickly, grimacing at the smell. “He seems fine now. I don’t think I need to sedate him.”
I grabbed shoe covers from the top shelf of the cart and stuffed them in my pocket. “He seems to respond really well to Tracey.” Afraid Abby had forgotten my request, I quickly added, “Will you have time to talk about Edie today?”
She shook her head and started down the hallway. “I don’t know. I have to finish giving out meds. Maybe later.”
Tracey and I worked together to clean John up enough to take him down the hall to the bathing room without leaving a smelly mess in our wake. I pushed the door open and held it wide for Tracey as she led John through. Sheila was crouched beside one of Tina’s residents. The woman sat on the seat of her walker grimacing as Sheila shoved shoes onto her feet. Sheila glanced over her shoulder and asked, “What’s going on?”
John followed Tracey into the shower area and I filled Sheila in as she stood and pulled a comb roughly through the woman’s hair. Before I left, I peeked into the shower room. John sat calmly on the bench, while Tracey soaped up a cloth and began washing him.
“Trace,” I called over the noise of the running water. She glanced up and I continued. “I’m going back to John’s room to help clean up.” She gave me a thumbs-up. I closed the door gently and headed back to Hall A.
I passed a cleaning cart in the hallway outside the staff room and popped my head inside to break the news to Lois from housekeeping. She had her head down, busily mopping the floor. “Morning, Lois,” I said.
She looked up suspiciously. “Oh, no,” she groaned. “I know that tone. What happened now?”
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s room 3A. John Lindquist had a big, nasty accident.” Poor Lois looked so crestfallen by the news that I hurried to appease her. “I’m on my way there now. I’ll gather all the dirty clothing and bedding, bag them as contaminated and take them to the laundry room. We just need you to wipe down and sanitize everything.”
She sighed in resignation. “Okay, I’ll be right there.”
Tracey walked into John’s room shortly after I got there. I looked up in surprise. “You’re done already? Where’s John?”
“Sheila kicked me out. Said she had a few minutes before the next bath, so she’d finish cleaning John up.”
That was a fight waiting to happen. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’s like putting two ticking time bombs in the same room together.”
“Hey,” Tracey said with a shrug. “She insisted. Practically kicked me out. It’s her room, her domain. Who am I to argue?”
Lois came in with a cart full of cleaning supplies and went to work. Tracey gathered up the bags of dirty bedding and curtains and took them to the laundry room. I hurried back to Hall B and into Mrs. Gallo’s room, relieved to find her still asleep. She stirred and woke as I moved about beside her, making Rose’s bed. Tracey arrived shortly after, as I was readying the lift.
“Can’t say our jobs are boring, can we?” she said, grinning widely as we secured Mrs. Gallo into the sling.
I rolled my eyes. “I’d rather boring over that any day.”
Tracey worked the lift as I guided Mrs. Gallo, suspended from the ceiling lift, into the bathroom. We’d just lowered her onto the toilet when the sound of raised voices came from t
he hall. Tracey and I looked at each other knowingly. “Uh-oh,” Tracey said. “I’ll go see what’s going on.”
Ten minutes later she still wasn’t back. Mrs. Gallo was finished on the toilet and I’d helped her wash, brush her teeth and comb her hair. Mr. Gallo would be there soon and she wasn’t even dressed yet. I needed help with the lift, but I couldn’t leave Mrs. Gallo sitting on the toilet alone to go find someone. Just as I reached for the call bell, Tracey ran into the room.
“Sorry,” she said, struggling to catch her breath as she went to the other side of the lift.
“What happened?” I asked as we guided Mrs. Gallo out of the bathroom.
“I don’t know much because while Sheila was ranting about it to Abby, I took John back to his room to calm down, but he had a fat lip.”
“What!”
“I know. I’m thinking the same thing you are. Don’t worry, I’ll find out more later.
I had no doubt she would. Tracey was good at digging up gossip. No one but Tracey told me anything, I suppose because I kept to myself too much.
We lowered Mrs. Gallo into her chair and began to dress her.
“So,” Tracey said as she pulled a sweater over Mrs. Gallo’s head, “wanna meet for coffee tonight?”
“I don’t know—”
“I know, I know, I was supposed to plan it with you ahead of time, but I’m more of a ‘fly by the seat of your pants’ kind of girl. C’mon, please? I need to get out of my apartment.”
I thought about it for a moment and realized Mom would be ecstatic that I was taking her advice and going out. She and Gran would be more than willing to watch Kayla. “Sure, I’ll meet you at the coffee shop on Main at seven.”
* * *
I went home for a quick shower before going to the school to get Kayla. The house was silent, but Gran’s coat and purse were in the hall closet. She usually watched Dr. Phil at three, but I didn’t hear the TV. I frowned and headed into the living room. I’d been worried about her since her dizzy spell earlier that week. Who was I kidding? I’d been worried about her since the stroke two years ago.
Tranquility Page 4