Serious Seniority

Shel Silverstein

I think I've at some point said that I work with seniors in an independent living situation.  So I see them where they live.

 

That said, I just saw some funny shuff.

 

One of the seniors just ran out to meet the dial-a-ride bus and SHE WASN'T WEARING PANTS.  She had a sweatshirt on, and shoes, just no pants.  Her friend ran out (she was alerted by someone in the office that her friend was naked) and was like, WHAT ARE YOU DOING???  And she goes, "Well I didn't want the bus to leave without me, so I just grabbed my pants and ran" (with her walker).

 

I was starring at the front door, jaw open, and the guy who was working the lift (she lifts into the bus because of her walker) says, "Well she's wearing a bathing suit, so its ok."  How weird understanding of him.

 

Anyway, she waved her pants at me (I couldn't make that up - she waved her pants at me while she was standing pant-less in the parking lot), smiled and got on the bus.  She was outside in the rain without pants on.  I guess the swimsuit makes it less ridiculous, but for crying out loud its like that Shel Silverstein poem about the guy who had everything on but his pants.  We all have those dreams about going out naked, but apparently some people do it in broad daylight...AND ON PURPOSE.

 

God I love seniors.  They totally throw caution and rules into the wind and leave by the seat of their...swimsuits.

 

Just wanted to share.   Its a friday after all.

SSS

I am going to regret going here, I just know it.  But I am going anyway.

SSS: Stupid Senior Shit.

As humans we are usually social beings.  We like to talk, listen, engage, cry, laugh...all nice things.  Some like to Gossip.  That is with a capital G because its hysterical serious...like this blog.  And no, I am not talking about small time gossip because we all do that (most of us call it 'passing judgment'), I am talking about groups of people yammering about one or two people and then ganging up on them. 

Well you know what?  Gossip hurts, people!  And the irony is, those who get hurt are often the worst gossipers of them all!  And they think that gossiping is a bad habit and probably think they don't do it - but they do!  They do it a lot compulsively.  And here is the kicker - hearing about it (because they just love tattling on each other) makes me want to do OH SO MANY THINGS (can you see my eyes bugging out?).  In fact, lets do a multiple choice, shall we?

Hearing about [stupid] gossip makes me want to:

    a) Roll my eyes and grab the nearest blunt object to knock myself out

    b) Create a mud wrestling pit and as people report gossip incidents/stories, push them in together to facilitate resolution - or at the very least, entertainment.

    c) Revert back to pre-school times and mandate quiet hours between 9am - 5pm.  No talking - to ANYONE.  Hell, if they can't talk they won't have to try and say something nice (or nothing at all).

    d) All of the above

Yeah, its "d".  But, and I heave a huge sigh of sadness here folks, what if people could just learn to keep it to themselves?  Is it so hard to let things go or just not talk about one another?  And really, why can't you just vent every once in a while and then just let the other gossip/tidbits/annoying things dissipate?

I for one am going to give it a shot.  And to close I go back to my favorite saying yet again, "Stop complaining about what is wrong and ask for what you need."  If your gossip problem can't be solved by asking for what you need (whatever the case may be), maybe its best not to air your frustrations because at that point, its just a nasty opinion.

Hysterical Story #1

When senior issues and bad behaviors start to get the best of me or any other good person, I like to tell funny stories.  The following is one of my favorites:

One time I got a call from the police station, which happened to be across the street from the senior facility.  They said that a resident of ours was reporting a rape (she happens to be a favorite of mine); needless to say I booked it over there.

When I arrived the story had already begun to change.  According to the resident, the upstairs neighbor (who was the accused rapist) had strange habits and nuclear devices.  He would move the devices around and when she was in bed, he would "beam" orgasms into her uterus.  Beam orgasms.  At this point I interrupted to clarify - she had indeed NOT been physically touched by him...?  She looked at me and said, "No, but the nuclear devices are used on me".

My first thoughts were, "why is this a problem?".  Where is he and why doesn't someone like that live above my apartment?  As a friend said, "How does one acquire these devices, hmm?".  I digress.

At this point I should say that the neighbor is actually a very sweet man who, needless to say, does NOT have NUCLEAR devices in his apartment - nor has he raped anyone.  But the resident was adamant - especially about the fact that she was too old to be having this many orgasms in one day.  I think my interest peaked at that point - just how many was she having!?  3 and 4 a day! 

In the end the resident did not have any physical problems that would have caused these hallucinations, so her psychiatrist upped her meds and supposedly, the nuclear powered multiple orgasms ceased.  I can't think of a worse fate, but c'est la vie. 

The only potentially bad outcome of this story is that the police station thinks I am a social work fraud because I had to leave the interview room for short bursts to regain composure - it was just too funny.  But I am human - beam me an orgasm and make me a believer.