Thanks to everyone for your commiseration on my boss-dad problems. I appreciate your sympathy! My work has been especially upsetting this week, therefore I'm not going to write about it.
I visited Bubbe for the first time since she got home from the hospital. It was great to see her looking quite like her pre-hospital self. She was showered and dressed in an appropriate outfit to receive a guest. I hadn't been sure if that would happen, so it was a relief.
She has lost some functionality, but I was pleased when she allowed me to make tea, set the table, and put cookies on a plate. I wasn't sure how much tension there might be with me trying to help and her refusing assistance, as has been the pattern previously. The only worrisome moment was when she tried to lift a heavy teapot full of freshly boiled water from the kitchen counter. When she picked it up by the handle, it tipped forward and spilled some dangerously hot water from the spout. She tried that move twice before she gave up and let me do it. Fortunately no damage was done, but it was touch and go for a minute there.
We had tea and a chat, which was nice, except for the part where Bubbe brought up her hospital stay. She remains convinced that she was tied to her bed by wires with little flashing lights on them. I told her that I didn't remember seeing that when I visited, but she had an answer: the wires were hidden under the blankets. Ah, yes, quite. In her almost-100 years she has never had any reason to doubt her perceptions, so I guess she's not going to start now.
She wanted a bit of help with her computer, which is always coming up with new ways to vex her. I went over to her desk and pulled out the chair... which had a green banana on it.
I blinked a couple of times. Then I said: "Bubbe, there's a banana on your chair."
"Oh, yes," she said, "I must have put it down there and forgotten about it." Indeed! That should be one of the top ten signs people should watch out for when it comes to dementia:
1. Not knowing what year it is;
2. Not knowing who the president of the USA is (counts even in Canada);
3. There is a banana on your chair.
Although I'm pretty sure that Bubbe is aware of who the president is, and the year, so she's still sane enough to live relatively unsupervised.
The computer issues fixed, I was permitted to wash the dishes and tidy up. There was a bit of an issue with my trying to leave without yogurt. My uncle had brought Bubbe a large box of single-serving yogurt cups, and she felt overwhelmed by the quantity. She wanted me to take the yogurt home with me. Except that I wasn't going home; I was going to take a walk to the closest train station, go all the way downtown, and then walk to my friends' house. Then I was going to reverse the process to get home again. I didn't want to be carrying around 5 pounds of yogurt all evening.
I eventually managed to extricate myself yogurtlessly. Good old Bubbe. One thing's for sure; there is nothing wrong with her willfulness. 4 months to go until that 100th birthday! Woohoo!