(I like to brighten the residents’ days by putting ribbons or flowers in my hair. One day I came to work with a little flower crown on my head.)

Resident: “Wow, [My Name], you’re so pretty you look like you should be dancing around a pole!”

Me: “Huh?”

Resident: “Have you ever been to a May Day festival? You’d fit right in, wrapping ribbons around the Maypole.”

(I appreciate the love, but someone should tell her what that sounds like.)

At the front desk we have a monitor that is connected to all of the security cameras in the building. We are never supposed to turn this monitor off because for whatever reason, this confuses the poor little PC that runs the system and everything has to then be rebooted for the PC to realize it is, in fact, connected to a monitor.

Apparently, not turning off the monitor is an incredibly difficult concept to grasp, as is reading a simple sentence in the English language, which is the first language for all of my coworkers at the desk.

I put a bright-a** green post-it note right over the d*** power button on the monitor, saying, “Please do not turn off the monitor.” And what happens? Yep, it gets turned off. Someone had to literally move the bloody note to push the button, and then they stuck the d*** note back on.

So, this time, assuming I am working with toddlers who have the intelligence of a certain president, I put a piece of tape over the button with one word on it: “NO.”

My great aunt is 98 years old and has Alzheimer’s. Other than that and some eye trouble, she is very fit, and often gets in trouble at her nursing home for zooming with her walker up and down the hallways.

Unfortunately, her memory is completely shot, and she doesn’t recognize any of her family, and often refers to friends that passed long, long ago. Regardless, my mother makes it a point to go out of state to see her at least once a year. She has spent the last week there, and has just gotten back home. I ask how it went.

My mother tells me that she and my great aunt sat and talked for a while, and then my mother reminded her that it was dinner time and offered to walk her down to the cafeteria. My great aunt happily agreed — it was a good day, though on bad days she can be a bit… grouchy — and they went down. Once seated they talked for a little while longer.

My great aunt had no idea who she was or where, and seeing how out of touch with reality she was, my mother was a bit bleary eyed and emotionally drained, and decided it was time to head out. She told her aunt how great it was to see her, but that she really must be going. My great aunt was disappointed, but understood. Just as my mom stood up, my great aunt popped up and wished her a warm goodbye:

“It was so nice to see you. We should do this again soon, [Name that my mother doesn’t recognize]. Be safe. Keep your bra clean.”

This made my mom smile, and when she left, she felt a bit better. My mother tells me that if this is her last memory of her aunt, then she is okay with that.

(Our nursing home has a group of volunteers that often help the nurses during meals and do most of the activities with the residents. This sometimes causes visitors to try to get the volunteers to do things they aren’t allowed to, or things even nurses aren’t allowed to do, such as giving medication at inappropriate times or giving extra medication when residents go on holidays with the family. I exit the elevator and hear an argument.)

Visitor: “I don’t see what the problem is. I want to take my mother to [Local Restaurant], but I need her medication. Now go get them.”

Volunteer: “Ma’am, I’d love to, but I can’t. I don’t know which medication your mother needs nor the exact dosage; you’ll have to speak to a nurse about that.”

Visitor: “You are a nurse. You work here. Stop being lazy and go get my mother’s pills!”

Volunteer: *notices me and points at me* “I’m not a nurse, but [My Name] is. If you ask her, she can check which medication your mother needs and give it to you.”

Visitor: “If you’re not a nurse then why are you in my mother’s room?”

Volunteer: “I was picking her up to go to the dining room; neither of us were aware you were going to come and pick her up. Since [My Name] is here, she can help you with the medication. I’ll go and take other residents to the dining room.”

(At this point the resident opens her door.)

Visitor: “You stop right there. I demand you do your job and get me those pills, and then go get your manager or whatever so I can complain about you!”

(Before anyone can say or do a thing, the mother speaks up:)

Resident: “G**d*** it, can you not embarrass me for once? First off, I don’t need medication during lunch! Second of all, we agreed to go out for lunch tomorrow. And third of all, if you don’t apologize to [Volunteer] right now, I’ll go out for lunch with her instead of you!”

(The visitor just mumbles and checks her phone, then runs away after yelling, “I’m sorry.”)

Resident: *to the volunteer* “You’re free tomorrow?”

Volunteer: “I am.”

Resident: “Good. If you want, pick me up at 11:00 and we’ll go to [Local Restaurant].”

(I work in assisted living as a nurse, overseeing over eighty residents.)

Resident’s Daughter: “I’ve been thinking about talking to the doctor about stopping my mom’s [antipsychotic medication].”

Me: “Is there a particular reason you’ve been thinking about this?”

Resident’s Daughter: “Yes, after visiting her a lot I can see she’s been doing much better, and I don’t think she needs it anymore.”

(This specific medication stops hallucinations, delusions, etc., and the resident has been on it over a year without side effects.)

Me: “Yes, she is doing great; the medication is working great for her.”

Resident’s Daughter: “Well, I want her to stop the medication; she doesn’t need it anymore.”

(At this point the resident’s daughter is getting irritated, and there is no reasoning with her.)

Me: “Well, the doctor will need to fax us a signed order to stop any medications; you can call and request this. But I can’t just stop a medication without a doctor’s orders.”

(The resident’s daughter stormed off in a huff.)