Funky Chicken.

Posted on September 18, 2013 by Whitney Button

While I was getting Joe ready for bed last night, I discovered several morsels of chicken (leftover from dinner) wedged in his butt crack.

Me: “Joe, may I ask you a question?”

Joe: “Sure!”

Me: “How did you manage to get chicken in your butt crack?”

Joe: “What’s that you say??”

Me: “There is chicken. In your butt crack. How did it get there?”

Joe: “What the hell kind of question is that?!”

Me: “It’s not so much of a question as it is an observation.”

Joe: “Who invited you to observe my ass?”

Me: “My boss. It’s part of my job description.”

Joe: “Your job is to look at old men’s asses?”

Me: “I wouldn’t phrase it quite that way but…Yes, I guess it is.”

Joe’s eyes got real big: “Well that’s one Helluva deal!”

Me: “Tell me about it.”

Joe: “Now what was it we were talking about before?”

Me: “I asked you how you got chicken in your butt crack.”

Joe chuckled: “I guess I must’ve ran out of pockets!”

Ice Cream Lady.

Posted on September 11, 2013 by Whitney Button

Joe’s brother, Bart, and his wife, Maggi, stopped by the house tonight for a visit. While the old-timers were all chatting, I prepared them each a bowl of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce (Joe’s favorite) and delivered it to the living room. I hadn’t noticed a major family resemblance between Joe and Bart until tonight, when both of their faces lit up exactly the same way when they eye-balled their ice cream.

Bart: “Oh WOW! Chocolate sauce and everything! Thank you so much, Young Lady! You’re so lucky to get this kind of service, Joe…”

Joe grinned at me and then looked very serious when he explained to Bart, “I’m not sure who she is or why she’s here, but as long as she brings me ice cream once in a while she’s welcome to stay; I don’t ask questions…”

Like a Baby.

Posted on August 27, 2013 by Whitney Button

Joe: “Dot used to complain that I snored, but I don’t know what she was complaining about cuz it didn’t bother me any; I slept like a baby!”

Who’s Next?

Posted on August 21, 2013 by Whitney Button

I was tucking Joe into bed last night and I asked him if he was warm enough.

Joe: “Not quite…”

Me: “Would you like another blanket?”

Joe: “I don’t think we’ll need another blanket. Once you crawl in beside me here, we’ll be plenty warm.”

I laughed: “Well I won’t be crawling in bed beside you, so I’d better get you another blanket.”

Dot came in then to give Joe his goodnight kiss, as she does every night. She puckered up her lips, closed her eyes, and moved in for the kiss. Joe’s eyes got really big and he tried to cover his head under his blanket.

Dot: “Don’t you wanna kiss me goodnight, Joe?”

Joe: “Oh…is that you, Dot?”

Dot: “Yes, it’s me! Who else would be giving you a goodnight kiss?”

Joe: “You were going to kiss me??”

Dot: “Of course I was! What’d you think I was trying to do?”

Joe: “I was worried that you were going to bite me.”

Dot: “I’m not going to bite you! Now, do you want a goodnight kiss or not?”

Joe puckered up real quick, and Dot planted a big kiss on his lips. Joe grinned from ear to ear, and then he looked at me and puckered up again.

Joe: “Okay, who’s next…?”

The Cherry Tree.

Posted on August 6, 2013 by Whitney Button

We were sitting at the table eating breakfast, when I felt Joe’s eyes on me. I looked over at him and he was just grinning ear to ear.

Me: “You look like you’re in a pretty good mood today, Joe!”

Joe: “Yep, I guess so.”

Me: “I bet it’s because you’re wearing your red shirt. You look really handsome in red.”

Dot: “Red has always been a good color on him.”

Joe: “What’s so good about it?”

Me: “It brightens up your cheeks.”

Joe: “What good does that do me?”

Dot: “We’re the ones who have to look at you, and you look good in RED! Now, eat your breakfast.”

Joe: “Does it make me look taller?”

Dot: “Huh?”

Joe: “Does my red shirt make me look taller?”

Dot: “Oh for heaven’s sake…”

Me: “I think it makes you look taller, Joe.”

Joe’s eyes lit up: “Well if it makes me look taller, then maybe I’ll have a better chance of picking a cherry from the cherry tree!”

Dot: “We don’t have a cherry tree.”

Joe: “But if we DID have a cherry tree; when I wear this red shirt then I’ll be taller, and I can pick cherries.”

Me: “You’re right, Joe. You’d be tall enough to pick the cherries AND you’d look very handsome while doing so.”

Joe beamed: “See Dot, I told you so.”

Dot: “I think maybe you’d better not wear red anymore. It gives you a big head…”

Joe: “No Dot, see my head only looks bigger because my red shirt makes me look so much taller.”

Survival.

Posted on July 31, 2013 by Whitney Button

After eating a big lunch this afternoon, including dessert, I asked Joe if he’d had enough to eat.

Joe: “I ate enough to survive.”

Dot: “Aren’t you full? You should be full!”

Joe: “I wouldn’t say I’m full so much as…I’m still alive.”

Okay then.

Pregnant? Who’s Pregnant…?

Posted on May 21, 2013 by Whitney Button

Dot was trying to help me to get Joe transferred from his bed to his wheelchair this morning, which really just means that she was in my way.

Joe was okay with me helping him, but when he noticed that Dot was holding onto him too he said, “Dot, stop! You can’t help me! Not in your condition…”

Dot: “And what condition is that?”

Joe: “You’re pregnant!”

Dot’s eyes got really big, so I said, “I guess that’s news to you, huh Dot?” Dot cracked up.

Joe: “Well I oughta know! I made you that way.”

Dot: “Not for a long time, Joe.”

Joe: “You think I don’t know how babies are made?”

Dot: “I’m too old to be pregnant, Joe.”

Joe laughed, and with a sparkle in his eye he said, “Well I guess we don’t have to be so careful anymore huh?”

Dot rolled her eyes and said, “Oh boy, here we go again…”

Rise Up!

Posted on April 30, 2013 by Whitney Button

We’ve been having Joe take a nap after lunch lately because he just gets so worn out during the day. Today he’s been acting super restless so I asked him if he wanted to get back up.

Joe: “Sure, I’ll get up.”

Me: “Okay, sit up on the edge of your bed and then Dot and I will help you to stand up.”

Joe: “Okay.”

He didn’t budge.

Dot: “Joe, do you want to get up or not?”

Joe: “Sure, I’ll get up.”

Dot: “Okay, get up then!”

He continued to lay there.

Dot: “You keep saying that you wanna do something, but you can’t do anything until you get up from this bed!”

Joe: “Alright, I’ll get up now.”

Nothing.

Dot looked at me and said: “Here, you pull on his left arm and I’ll pull on the right.”

Joe grabbed hold of both of our hands, but instead of letting us help him he was pulling away from us.

Dot: “How are we supposed to help you up if you pull away?”

Joe: “I’m not pulling away.”

Dot: “What are you doing then?”

Joe: “I’m refusing to rise.”

Dot: “How is that different from pulling away?”

Joe: “It’s not.”

Dot: “Oh Joe, you’re just impossible sometimes!”

Dot stormed out of the bedroom. Joe looked at me, grinned from ear to ear, and then shrugged apologetically.

Joe: “She wanted me to rise up, but I didn’t rise up.”

Me: “I saw that.”

Joe: “It’s just the way it goes sometimes, I guess.”

Germs.

Posted on April 23, 2013 by Whitney Button

Joe and Dot ate the last of the crab that their son brought home from the Oregon Coast for lunch today. When lunch was over, Dot told Joe to go wash his hands.

Joe: “I don’t need to wash ’em. They’re already clean!”

Dot: “How could they be clean? They have crab juice all over them!”

Joe: “I washed them already.”

Dot: “No you didn’t! I was sitting right here. I would know if you went to the sink and washed your hands.”

Joe: “I didn’t go to the sink.”

Dot: “I know you didn’t! You need to go wash your hands at the sink now. Go!”

Joe: “I don’t need to go to the sink. I washed my hands already.”

Dot: “Oh yeah? What’d you wash them with?”

Joe: “I licked my fingers.”

Dot: “You can’t just lick your fingers. That’s not the same as washing them in the sink.”

Joe held up his hands: “Look at my hands. Do they look dirty to you?”

Dot: “They don’t have to LOOK dirty to BE dirty.”

Joe cracked up: “Shows how much you know.”

Dot: “I know plenty about it.”

Joe: “Okay then, it’s all settled.”

Dot: “Yep, it will be all settled once you go to the sink and wash your hands!”

Joe: “I don’t need to wash my hands. I already licked ’em!”

The Lady Shadow.

Posted on April 2, 2013 by Whitney Button

Now that Joe’s dementia has progressed, he is hallucinating almost every night. Some nights he talks and talks all night long to things that aren’t even there, and it gets a little spooky, especially since I sleep in a bed right next to him.

We’ve figured out that one of the things that he fixates on are shadows so we try to keep his room as dark as possible when it’s bedtime. Last night, I got up to change his Depends and get him straightened up in his bed (he prefers to sleep sideways for some odd reason). I had to turn the lamp on so that I could see what I was doing, so he was fixated on my shadow above his bed.

Joe: “Oh no! Look at the size of that guy!”

Me: “What guy, Joe?”

Joe: “Look up there! That’s one mean looking man!”

Me: “You don’t need to be afraid Joe, it’s only my shadow.”

Joe: “It’s your shadow?”

Me: “Yep, it’s just my shadow.”

Joe: “Well you’re a Lady, so that must be a Lady Shadow then…”

I smiled: “Yes, it is definitely a Lady Shadow.”

Joe chuckled: “Oh good. Lady Shadows are nice to me.”

Me: “Yes, they are. Lady Shadows are the nicest shadows. Goodnight Joe.”

Joe grinned: “Goodnight, Lady Shadow.”

Joe and Dot

Adventures in Caregiving

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