So I walked into an ALF (Assisted Living Facility), I was approached by my friend.
Brooke: "Hey friend, how ya doin' today?"
Him: "Not so good."
Brooke: "Uh oh, what's up?"
Him: "Well I can't find my phone and I'm trying to get a hold of The Ford Company so I can buy one of their new Fusions. Saw it on TV."
Brooke: "Wait, why do you want a car?"
Him: "So I can get outta here!"
Brooke: "Oh. Do you think you're safe to drive, friend?"
Him: "Oh definitely."
(He can't zip up his pants or button his shirt consistently...so there's that)
Brooke: "Well... let me help you find your phone..."
A lovely colleague and I were discussing today how it's our job to help these patients become as independent as they can be. Sometimes we rebelliously take it a little too far. *ahem* So much of their lives are decided for them and sometimes I can't help but snicker when I hear one of them is planning to "break outta this place", or "go for a drive", or "walk to the mall", or "head off to work". Realistically, most of them can't walk more than a hall-span, don't have a job, and won't remember why they were heading out the door anyway, but I gotta love that independent spirit that is in all of us. Sometimes I help some of them look for their phone or browse the classifieds for a job, just until Price is Right comes on or lunch is served. Then they forget all about their quest and enjoy their lovingly prepared "home-cooked" meal, served to them by their favorite resident assistant, on the table with their dearest friends.
