Fear of the crazy wing

Dorothy calls me in a panic- she says the people are looking for their equipment.  I calmly ask,“what equipment mom”.  She says – “you know – the equipment they let me borrow when I was at the house”.    I ask her a few more questions and realize that this a new song.  It’s different than the Easter Eggs and the boys poisoning her.   She is clearly in destress and beyond upset- she even mentions that if she can’t remember what she did with the equipment that they are going to move her to the memory care wing.  

I calmly tell her I know for a fact that Paul returned the equipment and that he has documentation signed by them that they received it.   I had to tell her this a few times for her to calm down.  She was frantic- almost to the point of hysterics.  I remained calm and assured her that I knew what she was talking about and that if they came to her about it again that she was to give them my phone number and have them call me.  Again, I assured her that I would make sure that they received a copy of the paperwork that Paul had them sign when he returned it.

My first thought after realizing what was going on– is that one of mom’s friends has been moved to the Memory Care Wing- the residence call this “the crazy wing”.  I’m sure they are all in terror of being transferred there- because once you go in that wing, you don’t come out.  I can picture all of them fearful for their friend and wondering what what happened to whomever went in. Stories are concocted as to what they did or did not do to get there. Listening to all of this assumption, gossip, has all of their anxiety levels off the charts.  I’m sure they were wondering who will be next.

Mom sometimes use the words “storage” or “jail” to describe the situation she is in. I can’t imagine what tall tales are created about her own “reason for being in” let alone the others – think about it- you have a room full of little old demented ladies- who’s children just dropped them off and left and noone has been back since to see them. Their imagination is running wild and the fabricated facts are probably out of this world.  What whoppers of fake news are they are self-inflecting upon themselves?  

I can’t imagine the mental anguish they have- and I hate it for all of them.  All you can do is just listen to them, help the figure it out and agree with them. The hardest part is to try to assure those “left behind” that they will be okay.

Love and Light,

Cheryl Doreen

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