The only constant is change...

It's been about a month since I started at my new community. I still feel like a new kid on the block in many ways, but then on the other hand I feel very comfortable there. This is the town I grew up in, and it really does feel like home. The residents are an interesting mix in terms of physical and cognitive fitness, so it's a challenge... but for the most part, they seem happy with the programming that I'm offering, and they've been very welcoming to me.

One hurdle that I'm working hard to overcome is their attachment to a particular videotape called "Sittercise." Company policy dictates that I must have two instructor-led fitness programs daily, and putting a tape in the VCR does not qualify as an instructor-led program. I've brought in a chair-yoga teacher, and I'm leading Conductorcise and Walk-Aerobics... but THEY WANT THAT TAPE! I'm winning them over slowly but surely, though... just have to keep smiling and ignoring the complainers.

I know change is hard... especially for older folks. But really, it's the only thing we can count on. And hopefully, I'm bringing them a change for the better... actually, I know I am. One of the two centenarians in the community told me the other day, "Since you came here, the activities have improved dramatically." They are all just so hungry for intellectual stimulation and cultural enrichment... yes, there is life for seniors beyond beadmaking, Bingo, and bridge!!

Today I did a new program with them - "Community Sing." I made up songsheets of some of my oldest and most favorite folksongs, and a couple of new ones, and took out my guitar and sang with them. No, it's not a new concept - it's centuries old, maybe millenia - but it's new for them, and it was a huge success. One woman who hadn't cracked a smile in all the weeks I've been there (and probably long before) sang along with everything, and when it was over, she came up to me and said "That was FUN!" Another woman said, "That really made me feel good. Singing like that is cathartic!" Well, that is what it's all about, isn't it? Made my day.

home again, home again, jiggety jig

Herb came home from rehab today. He lost quite a bit of weight (not eating for a week or two will do that to you), and he's using a walker, but he was quite able to eat dinner without assistance and he told me he was going to play poker after dinner. I'm so glad he is back.

My favorite pain in the ass

One of my very favorite residents had a stroke last week, on his 95th birthday. His granddaughter came to pick him up and bring him back to his son's house for a party, and she noticed that he wasn't making sense, so she took him to the emergency room. No party for him... that was Friday, and I first heard about it on Sunday, when I went back to work. I went to see him on Sunday night and by that time, they'd run a bunch of tests and given him some anti-anxiety meds to calm him down, so he was asleep when I got there... tremulous and looking very frail, not at all like the vibrant, witty and stubborn member of our resident council board of directors who is always coming up with new ideas to improve life in our community. I cried all the way home.

I went back to see him last night and he seemed much improved, although he was still in the medical ICU. We had a lucid conversation for almost an hour, and he asked about many of the other residents. He even asked about the widow of one resident who died last week. We talked about the governor of NY State, we talked about my son who's in law school, we talked about my daughter who's in college studying to be an opera singer, and we talked about his late wife and his children and his grandchildren and great-granchildren. I spoon-fed him some ice water because the nurse said he couldn't drink by himself, and he could only have water... but he was annoyed at the indignity of being spoon-fed, and kept asking me to just give him a diet coke with ice in a glass already, and then I knew he was getting better. When I saw that he was getting tired, I said goodnight and went home... not crying this time.

Today, his out-of-town daughter (who flew in last night) told me she saw him and thinks they'll be moving him to a rehab facility in a couple of days, up in Westchester near his son. I'm glad he'll be close to family, but I'll miss him... hope he comes home soon. The last thing he said to me before I left last night was, "I really must be a pain in the ass to you with all my ideas." I agreed, but I told him he is absolutely my favorite pain in the ass, and it's true. Get well soon, Herb.

L.O.V.E.

Valentine's Day has come and gone. No card from hubby, but he did burn 4 Susan Tedeschi CDs for me, and that's surely a labor of love. I worked on Valentine's Day and I got to sing with a great quartet for a very appreciative audience... love songs, nothin' but love songs for an hour and fifteen minutes. "L is for the way you look at me, O is for the only one I see, V is very, very extraordinary, E is even more than anyone that you adore..."

And then two days later, on Mardi Gras, I got to sing again with a wonderful, rockin' trio, one of whom brought me a little treat from Kron Chocolatier. (thank you Bruce, my wonderful "band hubby," for being such a good friend and musical collaborator for the past seven years!) "Down in New Orleans where everything's fine, all them cats just drinkin' that wine..." and of course "When the Saints Go Marchin' In" and all that great boogie-woogie fun stuff, plus beads for everyone. Some of my residents were up and dancing to the music, and nobody fell and broke a hip. Life is good.