Bitch isn’t senile, just the center of her universe who thinks the medical staff is hers alone. All day long it’s, “Nurse, help me! Why won’t you help me?” She usually wants water or or another pain pill for some ache brought on by laying in bed all day. Tylenol is given on a every six hour basis so nobody kills their liver.
I get frustrated and yell things like, "The nurse was just in there five minutes ago so shut up, " and “You know they’re understaffed so wait your turn,” and " It’s my turn so shut up. " After a while she starts praying, "Dear God, why do you let this go on? " I am against trivial prayer, so I need your help deciding my best response.
. I have already asked a CNA to smother her with a pillow, but no dice.
. Ditto for the nurses to order a half dozen Fentanyl and feed them to her all at once.
. Fadda Mikey wants to yell that praying for something trivial is blasphemous.
. dropzone, an acolyte of Eris, wants to yell, "Can’t you see that your god has abandoned you? Hail Eris! All hail Discordia! "
Mikey! Kill her with kindness. Say things like “oh, Hon we’re all praying for you” or “Deary, we know you’re in pain and feel sorry for you”
Many things to validate her feelings.
I’d bet $2 she’s lonely more than anything else.
You be nice,
I mean it.
Try to empathize. This a great example of “not everything is about me.” She’s just an extra in your movie. As you are in hers. You have no idea what she’s been through or is going through. In all seriousness, as an experiment in generosity, see if an attitude adjustment doesn’t lower your stress level.
At least you don’t have a senile old coot hollering "READY FREDDY!!"echoing down the hall every 20 min every time he thinks he has to pee… yeah, I had a rehab stint with a MRSA infection permanently trashing my knee - don’t ever trust a DO who won’t prescribe post-surgical antibiotics…
Waterwaterwater Boy next door is in hospice, so I pray my usual “I’ll pray for him” prayer, “Make it fast and painless, please.” He’s repeating something but it’s stopped being intelligible.
Honest, before I moved to this room my BP, tested twice daily, averaged 120/56. Now it’s like 165/90.
I’m pushing my fat ass around the joint in my wheelchair for an hour five or six time a week, which is far tougher than the Omnicycle for fifteen minutes in therapy. I have that thing maxed out for effort.
She needs something to distract her. She sounds bored as well as lonely. But it"s not your job to see if she’d like, or be able to focus on, a book or magazine or jigsaw puzzle, or whatever.
Likewise, sounds like you could do with a distraction. Radio or music over headphones? Or if all else fails, try earplugs.
You should yell back, in your best James Earl Jones voice, “Because you keep bitching about everything, and it bugs me!”
Actually, you should just chill, and understand that she has problems that you don’t know about. Concentrate on getting better and getting away from her.
Unpleasant as the idea may seem, consider wheeling your fat ass into her room and reading to her for an hour. Or just chatting. If that fails to improve her behavior, at least you’ll feel more justified in continuing to hate her annoying fucking guts.
Near as I can determine, she is dementia free, though she did punch a staff member in th lunch room. That earned her 48 hours in the hospital. She has a daughter who rarely visits and who probably locked her away here in Bedlam because the obvious.
