Tranquility

by Laurie Gardiner

  I turned on the projector and flicked off the lights. The room was at once dark and filled with the glow of hundreds of twinkling stars on the walls and ceiling. At the push of another button, the soft, soothing sound of flutes and harps flooded the room. The stars danced and swayed gently across the room as though keeping time to the music.

  I sat in the recliner closest to Mrs. W, took her hand in mine and watched as her body relaxed. The tension slowly left her face and her eyes drifted shut. Her head lolled back and forth and finally settled into the headrest behind it. I waited a few more minutes, until she began to lightly snore, then I pulled my hand gently from hers and left quietly, leaving the door open so she could easily leave the room if she woke.

  In the staff room, I wrapped a small ice pack in a paper towel and took it to Lily in the lounge. She held it to her face like a trophy and looked proudly around the room.

  I went to the nurse’s station to fill out an incident report. It wasn’t much of a fight, even for a nursing home, but it was a fight nonetheless.

  Chapter 7 – Busted

  THE FIGHT THAT MORNING PUT me behind in my routine, but with a little extra help from Tracey, I managed to get caught up. Most of the residents who weren’t napping that afternoon had gone to the auditorium for a sing-a-long, so the halls were unusually quiet.

  It was near the end of my shift and I was on my way to the nurse’s station to do my recording for the day. I hoped to find Abby there as well, so I could finally speak to her about Edie. I glanced down Hall B as I passed by and spotted a familiar figure entering Dementia through the door at the far end of the hall.

  Edie was bundled up in her winter coat. It was one I recognized as a cast-off from Anne and was ridiculously big on her. She also wore a knitted wool hat and a scarf, which she had wound around her face so only her eyes and the top of her nose showed. She peeked around the door as she opened it and darted into her room at the far end of the hall nearest the exit.

  I stood in the hallway frowning. Where in the world had Edie been? More importantly, how had she gotten out?

  Dementia was a locked unit. Staff and visitors had to enter a code in order to leave. Residents were not given access to the code because many of them had a tendency to wander. Even so, the occasional resident did manage to escape.

  I wasn’t concerned that Edie had wandered off, in fact, I had no doubt she’d known exactly what she was doing and where she was going when she’d left. The problem was, she wasn’t supposed to leave at all.

  I went to the main hall where I could see the nurse’s station. If Abby was there, I didn’t want to miss a chance to speak to her. She was nowhere to be seen. I turned and strode quickly down the hall toward Edie’s room where I stopped in the doorway and stood, quietly watching as she hung her coat and scarf in her wardrobe. She was so tiny she had to stand on her tiptoes to place her hat on the shelf. She closed the wardrobe doors softly, turned and gave a startled cry. Her hands flew to her chest, as though to keep her heart from jumping out. “Mah God, lassie, ye scared me near tae death!” Her voice was thin and breathless.

  “I see now why you asked me not to lock your wardrobe this morning.”

  Edie’s face flushed with guilt before she looked at the floor, shoulders slumped in defeat. “You saw me, then.”

  “You’re not supposed to leave.”

  Her eyes flew to my face and she stood up straighter. “I’ve every right to go where I please, don’t I? Am I to be a prisoner here, then?”

  “Oh, Edie, I wish I hadn’t seen you, but now that I know….” I closed my eyes and rubbed my fingers across my temples, groaning in frustration. When I opened my eyes, Edie was standing, watching me expectantly. I sighed. “It’s complicated. The other residents are locked in for their own safety. You shouldn’t even be in this damn place—you and I both know that. But if I know you can leave and I do nothing and something happens to you, I’m at fault.”

  “And why would anyone know that you know? There’s no one here but us, lass.”

  “I would know. And I would be the one dealing with a guilty conscience.”

  “If I promise you won’t catch me doing it again, will you not tell anyone?”

  I sighed in resignation. “I should report it, but I won’t since you’re here and you’re safe and you’ve promised.” I glanced at the door thoughtfully. “How did you get out anyway?”

  She laughed. “Getting out was the easy part. I stood here in my doorway and watched someone punch in the code. And I only went home—to Tom and Anne’s, that is. There were some things there I wanted, personal things I had tucked away somewhere safe. They’re in the wardrobe now and I’ll be needing you to lock it up every day for me.”

  I felt bad for chastising her. She was right. She was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. “I’m sorry,” I said as I secured her locker. “I know being in here must be hard on you. I’m working on getting you out, I promise.”

  Edie patted my arm reassuringly. “Don’t you be worrying, lass. It’ll all work out in the end.”

  I left Edie’s room and hurried to the nurse’s station, hoping to find Abby there. As I walked, I went over my conversation with Edie. She was right. Even I, who had been working in Dementia for less than three months, had quickly become lax. We assumed the residents were either too unaware to know they could enter a code and leave, or unable to remember it long enough to use it. I wondered how many other things I’d become so complacent about, in work, and in life.

  I rounded the corner to the nurse’s station where Abby sat, recording the events of her day in the documentation binder.

  I took a seat beside her, pulled the support worker binder from the shelf and flipped to the charting section. “Do you have time to talk before you leave today?”

  Abby glanced first at me, then at the clock on the wall. “I have a few minutes. I’m almost done here.”

  I nodded, pulled a black pen from one of the many pockets of my blue scrubs and began recording.

  We worked in silence for a few minutes before Abby closed the thick, black binder and placed it back on the shelf. She turned her chair toward me and waited expectantly.

  I laid my pen down and turned to face her, feeling nervous and unsure of where to begin. What if she didn’t believe me? I folded my hands in my lap to keep from fidgeting, cleared my throat and blurted, “You know my resident, Edith MacAdams?”

  Abby nodded.

  “Have you ever had a conversation with her?”

  “Not a long conversation, but I’ve spoken with her, yes. Why do you ask?”

  I steadied myself, looked her straight in the eyes and said, “I think there’s been a mistake. I don’t think she belongs in here. She doesn’t act like she has dementia at all.”

  Abby was quiet for a moment, brow wrinkled in thought. Finally, she nodded “Okay, I’m listening.”

  I was so relieved that words poured from my mouth. “She knows the name of every person here. She always knows what day it is and what’s happening that day. The only thing she’s confused about is why she’s here. Oh, and the other residents confuse her, too. She thinks they’re all crazy.” I gave a short laugh at the thought. “She told me she was on a bunch of meds before she was put in the hospital and she remembers being confused. She also remembers doing the memory tests and knows she didn’t do well because she was so out of it at the time.”

  I paused to take a breath and felt the heat creep up my neck, into my face, when I realized I’d been rambling in my excitement.

  Abby rolled her chair away from the desk, stood and stretched. “It’s nice to see you so excited about your job, Sarah. It’s possible she was misdiagnosed, but I need to get to know Edie better before I can do anything. Unfortunately, it’s easier to put someone in here than is to get them out.”

  I realized then that getting Edie out of Tranquility was going to take time. “Okay, well, thanks for taking time to listen.” I went back to my recording as Abby gathered he
r things and left for the day. I was nearly finished when Tracey showed up.

  “What’s up, buttercup?” she said with a wink. “How ‘bout a coffee after work?”

  I didn’t hesitate long. “I’d love to. I just need to call home and make sure it’s okay with Gran.”

  * * *

  Tracey and I sat and talked in the coffee shop for two hours. I told her about my discussion with Abby.

  “Think she took you seriously?”

  “I don’t know. I hope so, but she was pretty noncommittal.”

  Tracey snorted. “She usually is. She likes to use a lot of big words and come off as being smart and important, but she sure doesn’t like to get her hands dirty.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean she’s really good at disappearing when things get nasty, like that day with the mess in John’s room.”

  I wrinkled my brow in thought. It hadn’t occurred to me, but Tracey was right. Abby did seem to have a way of finding excuses to leave when things got tough. “Are you saying I shouldn’t count on her to help with Edie?”

  “Nope, just saying you might have to become a pain in the ass.”

  “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you can.”

  We laughed and I changed the subject. “So, tell me about yourself. Do you have family here?”

  Tracey looked uncomfortable suddenly. “They live a couple hours from here. My parents got divorced when I was thirteen.”

  I winced. “That’s a tough age.”

  “Yeah, it sucked. When I was seventeen, my mom decided to marry this asshole she was dating, so as soon as I finished high school I moved out, came here, got a job as a waitress and put myself through college.”

  “Wow. Good for you.”

  “Yeah, it was tough. Hardest part was leaving my little brother behind. I know I was just young and stupid, but I only got to see my dad every other weekend, then suddenly, there was this guy who was there every day, living in our house like he was trying to take my dad’s place or something. I hated him for it. And I was pissed at my mom for marrying somebody else. I guess I always hoped she’d take my dad back, you know?”

  “I know. I guess we all want the fairytale.” It struck me suddenly that, even though Tracey and I were different in many ways, we had a lot in common.

  Friendship was something I’d been lacking since Kayla was born. The few childhood friends I’d had were in college or starting new careers and I was suddenly immersed in motherhood, working nights and helping with Gran’s stroke recovery. My friends and I had little in common anymore and friendships quickly became a luxury I no longer had time for. They were also not something I jumped into easily. It took time for me to build a relationship and trust someone enough to feel ready to confide in them and share my feelings.

  Regardless how little of myself I was still willing to share, I left the coffee shop knowing the mutual respect Tracey and I had for one another had begun to blossom into a friendship that day.

  Chapter 8 – Outbreak

  I NOW HAD TRACEY ON BOARD in my quest to get Edie out of Dementia, but there was little she or I could do. Abby was the only one of us with the authority to make it happen. Unfortunately, she had little time to spend getting to know Edie.

  December brought the norovirus to Tranquility. This “stomach flu” was highly contagious and could spread through a nursing home like wildfire if not quickly contained. For an elderly person with an already weakened immune system, it was sometimes deadly.

  Unfortunately, trying to contain an illness that caused vomiting and diarrhea in a group of people who couldn’t remember how to find the bathroom was a nightmare. Many of the residents didn’t understand or simply didn’t remember instructions. It was left up to the staff to be sure residents washed their hands and stayed in the areas they were confined to. Not an easy feat when dealing with people who wandered.

  It started with John. It was nearly impossible to keep him in his room, away from others. We weren’t allowed to lock him in and he simply wouldn’t stay.

  I felt bad for Carol, but it was almost comical watching her and John. She’d put him in his room, close the door and walk away. Seconds later, he was out again, sneaking down the hall into another room. She’d come back to discover him gone and go running down the hall to find him. The cleaning staff followed after the residents, disinfecting everything they touched. This game of cat and mouse went on for three days.

  It was all in vain. By the time we realized what John had, others had already begun to complain of headaches and fatigue and a few had low-grade fevers. A mere five days after John fell ill, nearly half the residents in Dementia were sick.

  The Board of Health was notified. Notices were posted at all entrances, warning visitors of the outbreak. Visiting was discouraged and volunteers were asked to stay away for the duration of the outbreak. All programs and services were canceled.

  The cleaning staff worked nonstop during the outbreak. Every surface, especially doorknobs, handrails, toilet handles and faucets, were wiped down numerous times throughout every shift with a disinfectant solution. The constant cleaning only masked the smell and soon the whole unit reeked of sour bodily fluids and chemicals.

  Tina’s resident, Mr. Roberts, was co-operative and stayed in his room for much of the duration of his illness. While there, he threw up in his shoes, the drawer of his nightstand, and his garbage pail. He had an unfortunate accident reminiscent of John’s mess and used the curtain between the beds to clean himself afterwards.

  Poor Rose threw up all over her lunch tray and later, in a planter near the nurse’s station. Luckily, she brought the planter along with her when she wandered back into her room.

  Every staff member in Dementia worked nonstop to keep the residents comfortable, the unit clean, and the virus in check. We worked through our breaks to help clean up messes and keep residents busy while they were confined to their rooms. We stayed late and worked on our days off in order to keep up with the extra work. Even Sheila worked longer hours in order to handle the extra showers needed by residents who didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.

  I tried my best to listen at the bathing room door every time I passed, but I was too busy to do any serious eavesdropping. It was only by coincidence that I caught Sheila in the act. I’d just finished attending to Sam, who was sick to his stomach, but fortunately had no bathroom issues so far. When I left his room, I nearly bumped into Rose. Her bottom lip shook when she saw me and she burst into tears. Even before I smelled it, I knew she’d had an accident.

  We went to her room to gather what we needed for a shower and then continued on to the bathing room. When I opened the door, I heard Sheila’s voice. “…of your whining. Stop it!” It was doubtful Sheila would hear me over the running water, but I put a finger to my mouth, motioned Rose into the room and quietly closed the door. I crept ahead slowly until I could see Sheila standing with her back to me at the side of the tub. She had the spray nozzle in her hand and was rinsing someone’s hair as they whimpered in protest.

  “Is it cold?” Sheila said, her voice taunting. “Is that why you’re acting like a baby? Put your head back. I said back!” She grabbed onto a handful of hair and yanked.

  I stepped out. “Sheila!”

  She jumped and let out a shriek as she spun around to face me. A flash of guilt crossed her face before she became defensive. “Do you always sneak up on people?”

  “I didn’t sneak. I’ve been here for a few minutes. I guess you didn’t hear me come in.”

  “No, and I also didn’t hear you knock.”

  “Rose had an accident, so we came to use the shower. I didn’t think it was necessary to knock.”

  “Of course it is. What if a resident was standing here naked? If I was allowed to lock the door I would, just to keep people with no respect for privacy from barging in.”

  Ignoring the dig, I leaned to the side to see who was in the tub. It was Mrs. W.
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br />   Sheila took a step toward me, her mouth set in a grim line.

  I stood my ground, even though my heart was pounding. “I’m watching you,” I said softly.

  She raised a brow and smirked. “Watch all you want. I’m not doing anything wrong, and who do you think Abby’ll believe anyway?”

  I stared hard at her for a few long seconds before I turned to Rose and held out a trembling hand. “C’mon Rose, let’s get you cleaned up.”

  My nerves were still rattled when I left Rose in her room twenty minutes later and went to find Abby. She was in the supply room, loading the cart up with lunch meds and barely looked up when I approached. I glanced around to be sure no one was nearby.

  “What is it, Sarah?”

  I clasped my hands together tightly in front of me to keep from chewing nervously at a nail. “Uh, I just….”

  Abby pulled the cart through the door and locked the door. She turned to me, glancing at her watch. “Make it quick. I have to go.”

  “I just took Rose to the bathing room for a shower and when I walked in Sheila was…”

  She let out an exasperated sigh. “She was what? Spit it out.”

  “She was yelling at Mrs. W, taunting her, calling her a baby for whining that the water was cold. Then when Mrs. W wouldn’t put her head back, she grabbed her hair and pulled.”

  Abby said nothing for a moment, just stood looking at me thoughtfully.

  I looked away and shifted nervously from one foot to the other, waiting. Was she trying to decide whether or not to believe me? Maybe I shouldn’t have told her. Maybe I should have waited and talked to Tracey first, or just recorded it in the binder. What if she fired me?

  “I’ll have a talk with Sheila,” Abby said finally. “But honestly, Sarah, you can’t come running to me, bothering me with every little incident. We all know Sheila can be a little gruff at times—”

  “Oh, no,” I said, standing up straight, hands fisted at my sides. “She was not being gruff. I’m not okay with the way she treats residents.”