We had a pleasant visit with Dad this afternoon, except a lady from somewhere on the hall was loose in her wheelchair and kept rolling in. She just mumbled to herself, so there was no way to find out what she wanted; all we wanted was for her to leave. The first time it happened, I had stepped out due to a phone/WiFi problem, so I missed much of the adventure. Later, though, she tried to come in again. I told her politely but firmly (and fairly loudly) that it wasn't her room and she couldn't come in; eventually a staff member turned up and rolled her away.
Dad said she comes in now and again; Margaret didn't like that. When we were leaving, we just about closed the door, and I said to the same staff member (probably not as softly as I should have), "We're just closing the door to keep the crazy lady out. Everybody else is welcome." She said that that lady would be having her medication soon. Presumably, that will slow her down.
Not that it's cray-cray exactly, but the other issue of the evening was that Dad's egg salad sandwich was cold. I didn't tell Margaret that all the other 8 billion people on Earth eat their egg salad sandwiches cold on purpose; I just let her run down, and it warmed up by itself anyway. I did suggest putting the saucer on top of the bowl of soup that was too hot, but this idea did not seem to appeal.
Dad's OK, but he still thinks it's a good idea to burp like b-b-b-b-b-b-b-b, i.e., exactly like crazy people have been portrayed in cartoons for the last 80 years or so. Pointing out that this isn't actually burping doesn't make any impression either. No big problem, so long as he doesn't mind going to the dementia ward with wheelchair grannie.
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