Margie, not pleased with the situation

The human brain is a fascinating contraption. Margie has no short-term memory, and she feels weak, tired, and confused. However she still has her words, she still knows me, and she’s not pleased. When Lucy left to get coffee (very diplomatic of her), Margie asked me, “Why am I in this place? Where is this?” As I told her the story, she did remember falling and having to scoot across the floor to her phone to call Lucy. “But I hate being dependent. I can’t do anything for myself. I can't walk, I can't even go to the toilet without help. My brain is not reliable. I don’t want to stay here. I want to leave.” 

Thinking it might be helpful, I told her she’s having physical therapy every day so she can get stronger, regain her independence, and go back home. She smiled very sweetly, patted my hand, and said, “Thank you for the nice lecture, but I really don’t want to get well and go home. l want to say thank you and goodbye.”

I laughed hard and loud at her reference to my “lecture,” and I said, “Margie, you are still entirely yourself.”

“Yes,” she laughed with me, a little weakly. “Yes, I suppose I am still myself, but you see I feel weak, I don’t have the energy to live, and I’ve lost my mind. It’s time to go. See?”

Yes, I said. I get it. I would feel the same way. 

“Would you?”

I told her I hate being dependent on anyone for anything. I hate feeling that I’m trouble to others. If I can’t take care of myself, I don’t want to be here. I totally get it.

“Well I’m glad to hear it,” she said. She relaxed and seemed relieved.

I said she has every right to feel that way, and I will stop with the lectures. She reached out for my hand and kissed the back of it. We sat quietly for a few minutes, and then I complimented her on her T-shirt (Extra).

“What am I wearing?” she asked, and then looked at it. “I don’t know who dressed me in it, or who decided I would wear it today, but I have certainly earned the title of Old Woman!”