ooh!
SPARKLE.
The Akame amnesia fic (which is turning out to be unexpectedly fabulous; the writing is um uneven but by God when she gets a good joke going it rolls) AND the RyoUchi brother fic both updated!♥♥♥♥♥♥
Really and truly, I read things besides shitty gay fanfic on the internet.
One last grand nag about the Memory Walk! I need the money in by tomorrow or Thursday if you would like to donate, guys. Oliver and I are going to walk in the Eugene Alzheimer's Association Memory Walk on Sunday, not to mention Activities brightened rather horribly at me when I said the magic words 'got the day off for it anyway'.
As most of you may or may not be aware, I work in an assisted living facility, which is sometimes funny and sometimes very tragic and usually manages to combine the two in the most horrible way possible. On the one hand there's people dying slowly of, say, bone cancer, and on the other hand you hear a walker being pushed up and carol, YOUR ENSURE WILL BE THERE AT EIGHT, OKAY RESIDENT? before you even look around. (This is the same lady who comes up every Saturday and informs me that her laundry isn't being done. What should she do? in the most Southern accent you can think of, and blinks in mild surprise when I tell her laundry is done on Monday. Sometimes she feels just turrible in th' mornin's and don't want to git up fo' breakfust. As John-the-caregiver says, at that age she deserves the luxury.)
(There's other residents to tell stories about but they mostly involve clutching Erin or Boss hysterically and hissing things like, five times in six minutes! I TIMED HER. so I generally keep them for AIM and not LJ.)
We also have a secure memory care unit, which is the nice way of saying we have a locked Alzheimer's and related dementias section of the building. Oliver and I wander back there fairly often. The residents there are either higher care (can't feed themselves, need more help getting dressed and moving around than the caregivers can realistically provide in AL, just need more time spent with them) or are wandering and/or flight risk. It's pretty awful when someone from AL reaches the stage just before they move up to the higher care level. One of the current residents in Kingswood (the memory care unit) would just do laps around the halls, over and over again until finally she exhausted herself enough to sit for a few minutes, and then she would get up again. She still does laps, but Kingswood is a lot smaller and less confusing..
One of the former residents took a pretty bad crash in condition the first year I was there. He went from reasonably with it, or at least not upset and confused, to trying to get home all the time. He wanted me to call a taxi. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to get home. His wife was waiting. His parents were waiting. He had work to do at home. A friend had brought him and now he had to get home.
He said, I was in the war! I went all over the world! Why won't you let me go home?
It's a nasty thing to die from. You lose motor functions, you lose verbal functions. You go further and further into yourself. Sometimes you get personality changes. Often there's terrible anxiety associated with it. It really sucks, you guys. I've told funny stories about some of the residents1, but it's just plain tragic.
1. Once I was looking for another former resident and found her in her room irritably trying to put one of her socks on a baby doll because the baby was cold. I had a brain flash and went and got a footie sleeper from the nursery they have set up with dolls and doll clothing -- Alzheimer's patients frequently regress in age, which is a nasty surprise when they look in a mirror, believe me, and several of our residents have baby dolls they take care of -- and brought it back to her and began to dress the doll. "You aren't doing a very good job," she informed me, glaring as I unsuccessfully tried to treat the doll as a real baby and not turn it upside down to pull the damn footie sleeper on.. "You aren't very good with babies!" ....this was the same resident that indignantly informed me that Oliver had always liked lemonade before.
The baby incident was pretty interesting, in a nerdy way, because she actually called it a doll before she corrected herself and called it a baby.
...if you read all that, I salute you. ANYWAY, I'm at eighty dollars and I wish to crush the souls of my coworkers, so I'd like to get a hundred dollars. My Paypal address is meg at fenya dot net -- I would er prefer you not send credit card payments ._.a We can work something out if that's the only way, though! If it's any motivation, there's a mild plot in the works involving number of donors divided by Meg staying up really late, so if you could also mention your LJ name and what fandoms we have in common, cough. This includes the three of you who actually read the original stuff btw.
Next post will be .... even more boring! I have two etiquette books on the way and I love etiquette books from the 19th century, they are full of epic lulz.
edit: GLEE.
THERE IS FIC WHERE JIN GETS DISABLED IN AN ACCIDENT.
GLEE.
I keep thinking, either really horrible JE fic will get old, I'll get so fond of Jin and/or Kame and/or Uchi that I won't be able to read it, or someone will kill me BUT IT HASN'T HAPPENED YET.
GLEE.
The Akame amnesia fic (which is turning out to be unexpectedly fabulous; the writing is um uneven but by God when she gets a good joke going it rolls) AND the RyoUchi brother fic both updated!♥♥♥♥♥♥
Really and truly, I read things besides shitty gay fanfic on the internet.
One last grand nag about the Memory Walk! I need the money in by tomorrow or Thursday if you would like to donate, guys. Oliver and I are going to walk in the Eugene Alzheimer's Association Memory Walk on Sunday, not to mention Activities brightened rather horribly at me when I said the magic words 'got the day off for it anyway'.
As most of you may or may not be aware, I work in an assisted living facility, which is sometimes funny and sometimes very tragic and usually manages to combine the two in the most horrible way possible. On the one hand there's people dying slowly of, say, bone cancer, and on the other hand you hear a walker being pushed up and carol, YOUR ENSURE WILL BE THERE AT EIGHT, OKAY RESIDENT? before you even look around. (This is the same lady who comes up every Saturday and informs me that her laundry isn't being done. What should she do? in the most Southern accent you can think of, and blinks in mild surprise when I tell her laundry is done on Monday. Sometimes she feels just turrible in th' mornin's and don't want to git up fo' breakfust. As John-the-caregiver says, at that age she deserves the luxury.)
(There's other residents to tell stories about but they mostly involve clutching Erin or Boss hysterically and hissing things like, five times in six minutes! I TIMED HER. so I generally keep them for AIM and not LJ.)
We also have a secure memory care unit, which is the nice way of saying we have a locked Alzheimer's and related dementias section of the building. Oliver and I wander back there fairly often. The residents there are either higher care (can't feed themselves, need more help getting dressed and moving around than the caregivers can realistically provide in AL, just need more time spent with them) or are wandering and/or flight risk. It's pretty awful when someone from AL reaches the stage just before they move up to the higher care level. One of the current residents in Kingswood (the memory care unit) would just do laps around the halls, over and over again until finally she exhausted herself enough to sit for a few minutes, and then she would get up again. She still does laps, but Kingswood is a lot smaller and less confusing..
One of the former residents took a pretty bad crash in condition the first year I was there. He went from reasonably with it, or at least not upset and confused, to trying to get home all the time. He wanted me to call a taxi. He wanted to go outside. He wanted to get home. His wife was waiting. His parents were waiting. He had work to do at home. A friend had brought him and now he had to get home.
He said, I was in the war! I went all over the world! Why won't you let me go home?
It's a nasty thing to die from. You lose motor functions, you lose verbal functions. You go further and further into yourself. Sometimes you get personality changes. Often there's terrible anxiety associated with it. It really sucks, you guys. I've told funny stories about some of the residents1, but it's just plain tragic.
1. Once I was looking for another former resident and found her in her room irritably trying to put one of her socks on a baby doll because the baby was cold. I had a brain flash and went and got a footie sleeper from the nursery they have set up with dolls and doll clothing -- Alzheimer's patients frequently regress in age, which is a nasty surprise when they look in a mirror, believe me, and several of our residents have baby dolls they take care of -- and brought it back to her and began to dress the doll. "You aren't doing a very good job," she informed me, glaring as I unsuccessfully tried to treat the doll as a real baby and not turn it upside down to pull the damn footie sleeper on.. "You aren't very good with babies!" ....this was the same resident that indignantly informed me that Oliver had always liked lemonade before.
The baby incident was pretty interesting, in a nerdy way, because she actually called it a doll before she corrected herself and called it a baby.
...if you read all that, I salute you. ANYWAY, I'm at eighty dollars and I wish to crush the souls of my coworkers, so I'd like to get a hundred dollars. My Paypal address is meg at fenya dot net -- I would er prefer you not send credit card payments ._.a We can work something out if that's the only way, though! If it's any motivation, there's a mild plot in the works involving number of donors divided by Meg staying up really late, so if you could also mention your LJ name and what fandoms we have in common, cough. This includes the three of you who actually read the original stuff btw.
Next post will be .... even more boring! I have two etiquette books on the way and I love etiquette books from the 19th century, they are full of epic lulz.
edit: GLEE.
THERE IS FIC WHERE JIN GETS DISABLED IN AN ACCIDENT.
GLEE.
I keep thinking, either really horrible JE fic will get old, I'll get so fond of Jin and/or Kame and/or Uchi that I won't be able to read it, or someone will kill me BUT IT HASN'T HAPPENED YET.
GLEE.