Jane

Jane, 85. Dementia patient. Grey hair, fair complexion with wrinkles and layers of skin patched on her face, a pair of blue shiny eyes. She was on the wheelchair. 

There were ten other patients all in the wheelchair having similar problems. They almost looked like similar with grey hair and skin layers on the faces. It looked like they are waiting for a train in a station to go to the entirely new place to be settled there permanently. They were the immigrants of the earth to heaven.  

It was early spring morning. The grass on the ground was still dry. Trees were bare. With the sunshine and April showers, the hope was there to be green again. The trees will grow leaf,  Birds will sing on the bough. Honeybees, dragonflies, butterflies will be zooming again on the early may flowers. The weather will be kind and generous to the children and elderly people. Lovers will make love under the deep and blue sky. 

Janet’s gray hair will not be blonde again. Her skin layers will not retract and be sunshine again. Her eyes were dim and often looking on the earth. 
There was a glass of milk on the table and half piece of bread. She did not drink a single drop from the glass. Most of the times, her eyes remained closed. She used to open her eyes in every two minutes. She would look out of windows into the clouds. 

‘ Janet, you should drink the milk,' I asked. 

She lifted the eyelids and looked into my eyes. I smiled. 

She did not speak a word. But her eyes would tell me the whole philosophy of life. The true meaning of life could be read in her skin, in her eyes. 

‘Janet, would you like something else to eat?’ I politely asked again. 

This time she did not open her eyes. 

It was Villa Caritas Rehab Centre, west of Edmonton. I was a Community Support Worker. Janet was my client. My duty was to provide care for her. It was the first day I worked with her. So, it was awkward for me. I did not know much about her behavior besides her case history.

Janet was born in 1932 in a rural village of Germany. She moved to Canada after the second world war was over. She came with her uncle, Walter. She couldn't remember the exact date they moved into Canada. However, she would tell how her parents and siblings were killed in the war. She was the one who survived in her family. After she moved to Canada, she lived with her uncle until her marriage. He was a polish. They lived a happy married life for twenty years. They had three children, two daughters, and a  son. They had a nice Bungalow at the bank of the Saskatchewan. 

After twenty years, their life wasn’t the same. They separated. She did know the reason. 

‘Dr. Watson, is there any possible way to have three pop in my goddam room,' an elderly lady said. She was in the same room walking all over the places. She was a tiny stoop old lady. 

At the North corner of the room, another lady about late 80s or early 90s sitting on the chair. She was holding a baby doll and talking with it. She was looking at the baby in such a way that the baby doll looked real. She was smiling and cuddling the baby. She looked happy. 

Another man about the same age was pushing his wheelchair in and out of the hall. He was saying something, but I never understood him. It sounded like he was calling his brother.

Around 12:30 PM a lady brought Janet a lunch. Since Janet was unwilling to eat herself I fed her bread, ham, yogurt, and juice. She ate most part of her lunch. I saw everyone in the room taking lunch. Some of them were fed by the hospital staffs and some others were struggling in holding fork and spoon. Many of were not lucky as Janet who got me to feed her with love and care.

In the meantime, another staff came to relieve me on a break. Then I went out to the car which was parked on the road for half an hour. 

When I came back from my break, there was Janet’s sister sitting next to Janet.  There were three candies on the table and a playing card. As I introduced myself with her, she said,' this is a boring place'. It did hurt me. If it was a boring place to her, how about her sister Janet who was surrounded by the strangers.

I did not say a word. I was a paid employee who was providing care for dollars. But as a human being, I was putting myself on her shoes while taking care of her. Where were her sons and daughters when she needed them the most? The answer was under erase. 

Janet, her sister, Kulprit (another staff working 8-4 shift) and myself played crazy eight. Janet won the match every time. I figured it out that Janet was a smart lady even that age. She played with rule and integrity. 

After half an hour, Janet's sister said that he had invited the guests at home; so that she was going home. Janet did not say a word. 

She took the cards with her stating that cards might be lost there. ' what? A dollars card is more important than her sister. OMG! I sighed. It was the result of this modern and civilized world.

I went to the room and grabbed my cards. I had a pack of cards in my backpack.  I brought them to the table.We played crazy-8. Around three in the afternoon, Janet wanted to walk. But the hospital staff said that she could not walk due to weakness. They put her in the wheelchair and transferred to her room. Kulpreet and I went to her room and stayed with her. Janet was sleeping.

Around four forty forty-five, hospital staff came to the room and transferred to the lounge area for supper. On the service lane, there were multiple patients who had dementia. One old fellow was counting numbers repeatedly. At this age and time and place, there was no race for money and power. They were just waiting for eternal peace.

Once Janet was placed on the table, I pulled another chair and sat with her. Food was served after a while. This time Janet tried to eat herself. But I saw her hand shaking and difficult to lift, I fed her most part of the food. My shift was until five. It was five past ten already. I said goodbye to Janet and drove to home.