(I work part-time as a home health aide. I have a client who’s a former professor and used to be a delight. Lately, however, he’s been trying to engage me in religious debates, even though I’ve told him I don’t like discussing such matters. He also has a rigid and very unkind interpretation of religious morality, which I am dismayed to discover.)

Client: “How do you feel about gay people going to Hell?”

Me: “I’ve told you, I don’t believe in Hell.”

Client: “But what if it’s true, and people go to Hell for being gay?”

Me: “Then I guess I’m going to Hell.”

Client: “But if you stop and ask forgiveness, you could go to Heaven.”

Me: “I have a feeling I’d prefer the company in Hell, actually.”

Client: “But—“

Me: “Do you want a caregiver who’s straight?”

Client: “No, I like you. I want to help you! That’s why I pray for you.”

Me: “Listen. You can do whatever you want when I’m not here. But debating the morality of my sexuality is not happening. If you talk about my sexuality again, I will quit.”

Client: *chuckles*

Me: “I’m not joking.”

(He dropped the subject after that. I’d been warned months before when I first took him on that getting aides to stay with him was difficult. Up until this incident, I’d been thoroughly confused as to why.)

For whatever reason, our corporate office sent us a life-size statue of a sheep. Our business is assisted living; we have nothing whatsoever to do with sheep or sheep products. Our local mascots are not sheep. There is really no local sheep industry in the area. So, basically, it’s just a random sheep. They never told us why they sent it.

I should mention at this point that although it is life-size, it doesn’t look real at all. It’s entirely a lovely cream color, but has no eye color, hoof color, etc. It’s the one solid color. And yet, I have had no less than four people say something along the lines of, “Oh! I thought it was real!” in complete, honest-to-God seriousness.

So, we moved it outside and put a scarf on it in the colors of the local university, just for fun. I kind of forgot it was there until not a week after it was out there and a lady came in and went, “There’s a sheep in your yard!” She honestly thought we had a live-a** sheep just hanging out in our yard with no fence, right next to a busy road, in the middle of the d*** city.

You’d think this would be the end of the story, but it’s not. Just yesterday, we got another huge box delivered. Guess what was in the box?

Yep, another sheep. I have no idea what the f*** is happening.

(This happens when I am just 17 years old. I get a summer job, one of my first jobs ever, in a retirement home serving coffee and tea in the public living room during the afternoons. This interaction happens with one of the residents. She has Alzheimer’s but I do not know that at the time, and it is one of my first times interacting with someone in that condition.)

Elderly Lady: *very politely* “May I inquire if it is possible for me to stay in the same room one more night?”

Me: *a bit confused, since she lives here* “Um, this is not a hotel, so your room is yours, of course.”

Elderly Lady: “No, I booked a room here and I would like to pay for one more night’s stay, please.”

Me: *still confused* “But this is a retirement home; you live here.”

Elderly Lady: *suddenly a bit shocked and looking around* “Oh, my gosh. I am so sorry; I am in the wrong place! I will go to my sister’s house and stay with her tonight. Thank you.”

(With that, she walks out of the building and leaves me very confused and worried! I realize that this lady does not seem to have a full grasp of the present or reality and I go to find a nurse. I am worried the lady will get lost or injured. The nurse laughs and knows who I am talking about. She says that the lady will come back eventually by herself, as usual. I continue with my tasks but am still worried. When I am almost done with my shift, who would walk in but the elderly lady from before! I immediately walk up to her.)

Elderly Lady: *very politely* “Excuse me. I cannot seem to locate my sister’s house. May I inquire if it is possible for me to stay in the same room one more night?”

Me: “Of course, madam. Your room is ready for you; it is the same room as usual. You are welcome to stay as long as you like.”

Elderly Lady: *enormous smile on her face* “Why, thank you, miss. Such good service. I always enjoy staying here.”

(With that, she happily went to her room. I was so relieved she managed to come back. There was no benefit or point in arguing with her and trying to make her understand her circumstances; it would only make her feel scared, confused, and miserable. I felt that that would just be mean.)

(A resident rolls up to my desk in her wheelchair to ask a question.)

Resident: “It’s written on my coat… my defecation…” *trails off*

Me: *blink* “Your… what now?”

Resident: “My name and… my phone number… My defecation is on my coat.”

(I remember a coworker saying something about someone missing their coat so I take a shot.)

Me: “We’ll find it [Resident]; don’t worry!”

Resident: “Oh, thank you! My defecation is on it…”

(She honest-to-God kept saying, “defecation,” but I hope she meant identification. I pity who finds the coat if she really did mean defecation.)

(I work in a home for the elderly. I have to help an elderly woman to change seats because her left arm and leg are paralyzed. She can stand as long as she holds on to somebody. While I’m transferring her into her wheelchair, she holds onto my neck and by doing so she chokes me. Getting out of breath, I quickly set her into her wheelchair. After catching my breath I talk to her.)

Me: “Miss [Woman], you were choking me.”

Woman: “Oh, sorry. I’ll leave that to your girlfriend.”

(After that I had to catch my breath again from laughing too much.)