Thursday, July 29, 2010
Got to love apartment living
Apartment drama. My husband got home and I ran down to the street for a quick errand. Imagine my surprise when the ancient woman who lives above me was behind the elevator door.
The poor thing. And I hate the Portuguese word tadinho for poor thing but it's so fitting. I asked her where she was going and she told me home and pointed to my apartment. I haven't spoken to her before but I know she lives above me. I told her no and that I'd take her home to the 5th floor.
My heart broke when she said "but no one is there and I can't get in". She thought she must have been at the wrong place because no one opened the door for her. Making my heart break even more, she told me that she went to the wrong apartment they only laughed at her and wouldn't answer any of her questions.
She was in her nightgown, smelled of urine, and I assumed she had locked herself out. The elevator automatically went to the lobby. Someone had called it. I opened the door and asked the doorman to put a chair in the elevator for her to sit while we went up and figured everything out. She was having trouble standing.
It, obviously, wasn't the first time this had happened. He took her hand and sat her down in the lobby. He told me he had it under control and not to worry. I came back after my errand and she was still there.
I was shoo-ed away by the doorman. I wanted to stay but I felt the need to listen to the sane doorman before the slightly less sane older woman.
Of course I asked my husband about it when I got home. We have experienced this same thing once before but he had answered the door. Apparently she is senile and quite dramatic. She has help during the day and a son who lives with her. Sometimes, if the son works late, she spends a couple of hours on her own. Personally, I think that's unacceptable.
I also know that she's had a couple of blow outs in the common hallway, filling them with things that I don't even want to describe. I can assume life up in that 5th floor apartment isn't particularly easy.
At the same time, it just broke my heart in two. I hope to have better care when I hit that point. Personally, I think it'd be better for her to be in a home. I know, sacrilegious in this country, but she'd have 24 hr care and people experienced in taking care of the elderly.
Regardless of circumstance, it's just wrong for an older woman to be taken care of in a way where she manages to get locked out, urinate on herself, and roam around a building in her jammies.
She looked confused and deflated. I almost adopted her that moment but Daniel won't even let me get a dog. Imagine what he'd do if I brought home an old lady!
Ranted by Rachel at 6:59 AM