In the Humble Opinion of LittleBill, Socialist, Atheist, and Humanist


(Looking back, it almost seems like a Laurel and Hardy comedy for those old enough to remember, except that, at the time, it wasn’t funny.)

A new caregiver was sent to me one morning as a substitute. I was still in bed, and Jackie, my ex-caregiver who has lived here ever since her professional time here, brought her to the door of my room to introduce us. “The caregiver” stood just out of sight at the door until I invited her in. From that point on, it is easiest to recount the FIFTEEN MINUTE span of time we spent together. I can’t, and don’t want to remember her name, so I shall just refer to her as her or she.

First, I asked her to please empty the bedside potty before I got up. When she came back, I told her I was ready for my shower, whereupon she whipped out a completely new pair of rubber gloves and put them on. I told her I didn’t think she would need a new pair of gloves, as I did not have any diseases (except for my various venereal diseases, which I did not mention) and gave myself my bath, so all she needed to do was help me get into the bathroom. Explaining to me that she wore them for her own safety, we proceeded.

Upon entering the bathroom, I could see that no preparations had been made for me, and I moved on to the toilet as a sanctuary upon which to relax as she prepared. As I approached, I could see that the lid of the potty was still up (a no-no for cats) and the seat was covered with feces and urine. Obviously, “the caregiver” had not even raised the seat before emptying the pot.

When she had finally gotten that taken care of and I was able to sit down, we proceeded to the “preparation of the tub.” Nothing, up to that point, had been done. First, I asked “the caregiver” to put down the tub mat, which was hanging on a grab bar along the back wall. The only possible problem here was that she needed to put one end of the mat under the chair in the tub for me to sit on; she handled this very nicely, except that she placed the mat upsidedown, with the sucker side up.

The final step in the arrangements for “madam’s bath” was for the bathmat—you know, the one you step upon as you exit the tub—to be placed alongside the tub. Easy enough, but even that failed. With both mats, she did them “Look, Ma, one hand,” and thus, the mat landed on the floor with a hump in the middle, at an angle from the tub. (By the way if you read the last words of the last sentence over, starting with “with a hump,” you’ll discover, as I did, that it has a catchy lilt to it.)

Back to the story: It was at that point in my saga that I called to Jackie, “Get her out of here!!!” (I’ve been told before that I am inclined to raise my voice when angered, so that may very well have happened here.)

cc: Everyone, VCC


an average patriot said...

Little Bill I'm telling you, after reading this and remembering when your dog pulled you down and you broke your hip 4 or 5 years back and you were in the nursing home witnessing the horrors you should jot it down and send it to officials.

Maybe even the newspaper where something would get done. People would appreciate it.

an average patriot said...

Hi little Bill just looking in to see if you have anything mew to say so I will say Hi!

an average patriot said...

Hi little Bill just looking in and want to say Hi!

an average patriot said...

Hi little Bill! I was thinking of you so I stopped by to say Hi

R W Rawles said...

Horrible experience Little Bill. I'm shocked.