The Distress Calls

I was told by my agency to call 911 and send Miss D back to the hospital if she doesn’t settle down. I told the aide, I’ll be right down. Please don’t call 911.

I was expecting Miss D to forget she returned home that day after spending the year away. For her, she’d never left her apartment and there was a strange woman in her home. I just didn’t expect to see her so angry.

Who are you? No one told me someone was going to live with me. Don’t get me wrong, she’s very nice, but someone should have told me.

I could hear in the aide’s voice, she did not have the patience for dementia like you hope an aide will have for a loved one. She was using the phrase, “I told you”  when Miss D asked her questions. It only got her more upset. With Miss D’s dementia, she’s not going to remember they’d already had that conversation. It was almost midnight and the aide wanted to go to bed. I took Miss D to her bedroom to calm her down and distract her from this situation, at least for the night. When Miss D was tired, she said I could go. I told Miss D I will let myself out, I have keys. Miss D preferred to walk me to the door and she locked the door behind me.

The next morning I get a call from Miss D’s guardian group, the aide is threatening to call 911 again because Miss D will not eat breakfast or take her pills. They asked me to go down, get some food and the pills in Miss D and smooth things over. After all we’ve done to prepare for Miss D’s return home, it seemed strange how calling 911 would be so quickly an answer for the aide instead of knowing how to handle a situation. I was concerned this was not the proper aide for Miss D. The aides at her secured location this past year, loved her dearly and they got along . . .

. . . but, Miss D was feeling more in charge at home.

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