I visited my LO at the Alz Facility Sat. and stayed for an activity on 2nd floor. When I needed to leave, I went to the elevator and could not get the security buttons to work and went back to the activity room and tried to get a new aide to help me. She kept encouraging me to go in and sit down. I had my cane and carrying my coaat in the other hand. It was probably dragging on the floor. She finally got the attention of the activity director who came over and recognozed me so she helped me call up the elevator.
I am sure the aide thought I was a resident that was confusede. So today, I will try not to look so old and confused. love bill
Bill...that's really funny! At first my DH looked so much like a regular guy, a security guard punched in the code and let him out to the parking lot. I guess appearance does mean everything. lol cs
Bill, you've had me in tears laughing and crying at you "adventure" I make a special effort to dress up when I go to the nursing home. Now I will make sure I really do it up right, lol! The other day an aide assisted DH into the bathroom. I could hear them chatting and wondered why she was staying in there with him. When she came out, she was still laughing and came to me and said, "I have to tell you, I finally asked Jim a question that has been driving us crazy. We did not know if you were his wife or his daughter!!!" I laughed like crazy, and thanked her for making my WEEK, maybe MONTH!!!! Arms around, Susan
Bill, your story reminds me of the time when I was a medical student and assigned to examine a patient in the locked section of the mental ward. I was not at all sure I could convince the guards that I was sane and able to leave.
When DH was in the hospital for med adjustments the first time, his older brother who looks so much like him came to visit. When he was ready to leave, we walked to the door with him. The nurse wouldn't unlock the door for him until I told her he was DH's brother.
Susan, There was 13 years between DH and me and I got the father/dad thing quite often. At least at the beginning. Toward the end when his hair was still dark and mine was completly gray, I didn't get it as much. It really didn't help when he called me Mother.
When I was 16 I'd go with my Dad when he went after building materials for finishing the attic into more bedrom space. I'd go because my 2 yr. old brother wanbtyedbto go alonbg, and i'd mind him while Dad took care of business and it gave my Mom a break from minding my brother and baby sistr. You wouldn't believe the dirty looks Dad got--shoppers thinking we were "a family". Then in '06 personnel in the PMU thought my sister--48---was my Daughter--I was 57. Strange how things like that happen.