And do so people.
I had a bit of a fit today. I guess it was overdue.
My friend Susan and I went to lunch before my 2 o'clock assignment. All was well. Beautiful day (I swear, September could be NO BETTER around here weatherwise, which makes me feel even worse for the places that are getting so brutalized. No fair.) We had some good conversation and got some things accomplished, even if it was only getting some of the craziness out of our heads and onto the table.
So we're getting into her car, and I look over at the car next to us at the same time she does. I see SOMETHING through the window, that I swear looked like the raw stump of an arm. "What IS that?" she said, and I, because I am delusional even when I don't have low blood sugar, said, "It must be a Halloween prop."
Bear in mind, the light was reflecting pretty strangely off the glass, distorting what was inside. AND we were in front of a store that used to be a Staples but is temporarily a costume shop for the upcoming holiday. There was a guy walking up and down the sidewalk in front of us in some get-up - a pirate costume maybe? There is this phenomenon in our area where people are lined up and down the major retail thoroughfare, wearing sandwich boards, advertising whatever is going on in the way of sales in the stores. In his case, the costume speaks for itself, so I guess I thought maybe they'd put some stupid prop in the car just to throw people off. Halloween brings out some pretty crazy behavior in the name of fun and frolic.
Clearly, I am not taking some critical medication. As my eyes adjusted to the sunlight, and so did hers, I went, "OH MY GOD, It's an old man."
And it was. It was an elderly man who was clearly disabled, his face all scrunched up and red (hence the raw and bleeding hallucination I had) and his head moving back and forth. I went straight into rescue mode, mixed with red rage, as I do at these times. It's still pretty warm here, although it's breezy. No one has any business leaving anyone with special needs in a closed up car.
"Who could leave him locked up in the heat like that," I said, as Susan knocked on the glass and shouted, "ARE YOU OKAY?" to which he nodded jerkily.
I decided immediately, again, in red rage mode, that I'd go into the restaurant to see who was with him. I have a thing about this, a real problem, with leaving anyone defenseless - little kids, animals, vulnerable elderly - sitting in a car with the windows shut up. It can suffocate them even in the dead of winter. I immediately thought of the kind of strange looking woman with silver pigtails who I'd seen standing in the restaurant carryout as we left. I don't know why I made the connection, but I thought she might be with him. My heart pounding, I went back inside and she was still standing there.
"Are you with an elderly gentleman who is sitting in a red station wagon outside?" I asked.
"Why yes, he's fine. The air conditioning is on. I'm just picking up some food," she said.
Now, how the air can be on without the car running is beyond me. Maybe it can, and I'm an idiot, and I should be put under citizen's arrest, but I didn't buy it. And I was so upset by the look on his face and his tremors, and the thought that he was dying in front of our eyes, that I was close to tears, so I might forgive myself, even if I were wrong. Forget the heat - this parking lot is a busy thoroughfare for car and foot traffic and the sandwich board advertising squad. You don't leave a vulnerable person alone in a vehicle. Period. Who knows who will just knock them out and steal the car? Who knows when they might hit the wrong button on impulse and send the car into four lanes of traffic? It's happened...It can definitely happen.
"I'm sorry to say this, but I'm an elder advocate (ed. note: not sure where THAT came from - amazing how things just come out of one's ass under stress), he does not look well, and should not be left alone in that car," I said, as my familiar carryout lady stared at me losing my mind. Next time I go in for a Greek salad, she'll probably lob it at me across the room and back away slowly, going, "NO, is FREE. FREE. You GO WAY NOW!"
"Oh, he has Parkinson's disease and those are his tremors. I appreciate your concern, but he's really fine." she said.
"I understand Parkinson's, but I didn't feel it right not to get him some help. Just so someone is watching him," I said, and went back out to the parking lot.
By this point Susan had gotten him to roll the window down and say he was okay. We were both rattled, but I told her we'd found his (I'm guessing...) wife, and could go...especially now that the windows were down. As we were pulling away, the pigtailed lady came running up, tapping on Susan's window.
(Yes, by the way, this was the weirdest lunch hour on record.)
"YOU SAY YOU'RE AN ELDER ADVOCATE," she yelled, pointing at me. "I need more home care. See, look at him, he's smiling now. Can you tell me anyone who may be able to come into my house?"
I couldn't. But I told her a few places to call, some senior centers to check out and associations to contact, with Susan looking at me like, "Where in the hell is this information coming from? I thought you were a hack writer", ; ) and she thanked us for our concern. Still shaking, I asked her to please try to avoid leaving him alone in the vehicle from now on, and good luck.
It is my sheer concern for older adults that compels me to step up in this manner, and experiences I've had. It also brought up another memory where I had to witness something awful befall an elderly person with no one there to intervene. I learned very little from it, in truth, but the location of a reserve of strength that I didn't know I had.
Several years ago when I lived in Ohio and worked in the basement of an assisted living in the Alzheimer's Association office, one of the residents jumped (or more likely fell) out of a third floor window. I was standing in my co-worker's office door, and saw what I thought was a bag of laundry thump down into the bushes outside in the window well. By the time Laurice started screaming "GOOD GOD ALMIGHTY, IT'S A PERSON", I had shoved all of her photos off the windowsill and was out the window myself. I don't know what happened to me. I have no EMT training at all, and need to shut my eyes often - sometimes for a full minute - during the dicier scenes in ER. Something just happens at those moments of frailty and extreme vulnerability in people who I perceive as being neglected.
The lady's name was Mildred. She was very tiny, and was conscious, and as I sat beside her in the dirt, holding her hand, she kept saying, "I slipped. Or I tripped." I was quite convinced that she would survive it, looking in her eyes, but older organs and bones can't take that kind of impact, and she died later that afternoon.
Today I sort of felt like that again when we saw this man in the car. And maybe I overstepped my bounds, but it's one of those things where if I didn't I'd have wondered, and even if I did, I have to think it was necessary. You just never know when it'll be you, and even if it never is, that doesn't really matter.
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