Tuesday, February 9, 2010

NOO-wah

I got into work today to find that 4 of our residents passed away over the weekend. 2 of them were on my former unit, where I worked for 9 months.
One was a man who constantly irritated the other residents around him. He had a voice like a foghorn and called out nonstop for someone to come over. He had no family and, seemingly, nothing to live for. His Alzheimers was quite advanced and he couldn't follow instructions. He spent all his time either in bed staring blankly at a tv or sitting in the alcove covered in an ancient knitted blanket that someone had donated. As long as I knew him, the only thing that brought him joy was animals, especially dogs. The second he heard the dog's feet padding down the hallway, heard the panting of breath, he'd be leaning forward out of his chair, trying to see, calling out "hi puppy! Hi puppy!" Anytime someone came in with a dog we asked them to visit this gentleman, and we would be 2 steps behind them with a camera, waiting to capture the moment of realization when a look of pure delight sprang onto his face.
Although he never remembered who I was, I got on with him well and the two of us never had any problems. Oddly, I won't miss him. It was, as some would say, his 'time'.

The other resident, a young woman (mid forties) had no memory deficiencies, no brain injury, just couldn't use her legs. She zoomed around in her power chair, running into walls and clipping people's feet. The way she spoke always irritated me; when I asked a question or suggested something, no matter what it was, she would say no. But it wasn't just no, she had a habit of turning it into two syllables, "NOOOO-wah!" with her voice going up at the end as if I'd just said the most incredibly stupid thing. Every. Time.
"Would you like to join us? We're doing facials today." "Noooo-wah!"
"Hey I made a fresh pot of coffee, would you like some?" "NOOO-wah!" (guess who's trying to pour herself a coffee as soon as I turn my back?)
"[insert boyfriend's name here] is looking for you! Did you see him in the hallway?" "Nooo-wah!!!"
Every. Time. She barely tolerated people, rolled her eyes at everyone, groaned when her boyfriend of 30+ years tried to say or do nice things for her, and wouldn't let anyone get close to her. But she passed away on the weekend. It makes our job easier. No more stepping out of her way when she comes along. No more tripping over our feet trying to move unsuspecting, sleeping residents out of her way lest she bowl them over. No more spilt cups of coffee. No more tv blaring at all hours in her room.

I can honestly say that I already miss her.