Tag Archives: Halloween

HALLOWEEN: A T-P game you never saw before

As October winds its beautiful way into our crisply chilled hearts, all thoughts turn to Halloween. This time for treats and tricks invariably leads to someone, somewhere using toilet paper to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting neighbor.

I, too, have become a victim of what we used to call “t-peeing”, which did not mean peeing, but meant wickedly and with abandon tossing toilet paper all over the trees, yard, cars and driveways during the All Hallows Eve season. This was deemed hilarious by all evil teens and pre-teens, and a pain-in-the-ass to all middle aged development homeowners who had to clean it up, not to mention the WASTE OF TOILET PAPER. Oh the waste!!!

So you’re probably wondering how this could possibly relate to caregiving. No, I’m not cleaning up my yard from some over-achieving juvenile delinquent who started the season early. My 90 year-old Aunt just LOVES toilet paper. It meets all her needs.

Aunt J uses TP for just about everything, tissues substitute, cleaning rag substitute, hold-it-in-my-hand-in-case-I-need-it substitute. Next to a pocketbook, tissues may be the second coming of the Savior.

But the scariest use for TP has become, pads and Depends substitute. She just absolutely INSISTS that she must fill every area of her granny panties with extra toilet paper. So she puts on her panties (or rather I put them over her feet and pull them up halfway), we put TWO pads in the crotch to line them against all accidents, AND THEN SHE ATTACKS. She unwinds that toilet paper like Christmas lights until the strand is long enough to circumvent the globe….and that’s ONE section for the front. Then she does the same for a section for the back.

Now I am certainly all for cleanliness, fresh smelling people, lovely scented perfumes, and armpits dusted with powdery smells ( I direct you to Cleanliness is Next to Godliness)but it seems to me that two or three pads, or Depends plus pads is really sufficient to meet her needs. And since I have become intimately aware of her needs, I can assure you the use of two or three strategically placed pads in those cocoon size panties are plenty.

But it’s the waste. I am going through 25 to 28 rolls of toilet paper every two weeks. And it’s the good stuff, Mr. Whipple would nominate me for an award or at least give me stock in Procter and Gamble. I don’t have time to squeeze the Charmin’, it flies off the roll like blowing a dandelion to the wind.

So finally, I entrust this dilemma to my Mom. A contemporary of Aunt J. She tells her , “NO more toilet paper, these Depends are fine.” And that’s enough. Waste is over. One Depression baby to another…..”stop wasting”…..problem solved.

You just have to laugh…….

Cathy Sikorski

Trick or Treat…Mother Nature’s Halloween joke.

One beautiful crimson and golden day in October, and I mean beautiful, I was required to go on a ‘shopping spree’ for a rehab center for my brother-in-law, “L.”  He was recently hospitalized and needed a few weeks or months to get his strength back, so he could return home. The first place they sent him was too challenging, and they basically kicked him out for not trying hard enough to get better. Who am I to judge? The guy has MS, and he knows what it means to exercise or not exercise, the choice is his. But they said, “nope, you’re not trying hard enough and it ruins our success rate.” Well, ok they didn’t say the last part, but we all know that’s what’s going on.

So I had to find a new place and quickly, because he would be booted in a day or two at the most. My Mom and I spent a very long day looking at five different facilities, trying hard to stay with in a 10 to 20 mile radius, so that I could be there on a regular basis to check on him and make sure he was not being neglected.

O my God, what horrific nightmares are out there. The first place was in this absolutely gorgeous, wooded, bucolic setting. And every resident was passed out, drooling, and not engaged in anyway. AND THAT WAS IN THE LOBBY!  The staff was setting up for a Halloween party, and the decorations were as shabby and pathetic as the lobby. The next place, it smelled….and not good.  The next two places were over-crowded, had teeny, tiny therapy rooms and were dirty. O mon Dieu! Je ne sais quoi! Yes, I was thinking in French because I couldn’t even process this in my native tongue.  Finally, we get to the fifth place, and it is okay. And I really mean just okay. I would like it to be cleaner. I would like to hear less commotion in the hallways, with residents who are clearly distressed. I would like there to be more visible staff. But the therapy facility is enormous, the therapists seem very knowledgeable and have specific tools for dealing with MS patients. And there are some younger men here. L gets a private room because there are so few men in rehab. So all in all, we’ll take it. I’m running out of time, I’m exhausted, and I have seen the worst so “okay” will suffice for now. If I need to keep looking, I will, but it’s just temporary and even though it’s the furthest from home, I will come every day in the beginning, to make sure he is properly cared for.

We take hours to complete all the paperwork to get him in there tomorrow. Ugh….me and my Mom are pooped. This is how I thank  her:

“Don’t you dare go to the hospital tonight. I don’t care that you are perfectly healthy.  If anything happens to you, don’t call me. Call your brother, call all of your other five children or any of their offspring, But I cannot deal with one more hospital, medical team, or medical issue for at least three days.”

Mom just laughs at me. She’s perfectly fine and there’s no reason to think otherwise.

The next day, Saturday, I go out to run a few errands, and it begins to snow. ON OCTOBER 29th, WE HAVE A FULL BLOWN BLIZZARD. Now normally, that wouldn’t be so crazy to have snow in October. But we have so much snow and the trees have not yet lost all their leaves. Trees begin to bough and cover everything, and break power lines and hearts with their cruel, beautiful snow-covered, orange and gold autumnal CRAP. I live in the woods. I can’t get down my driveway, until I call my husband who says: “Shake the trees, Cath, the snow will fall off.” (he’s like a genius)

AND THEN, AND THEN, AND THEN, the phone rings.

“Hi, this is Grandma’s assisted living place.” (of course they don’t say that, but you get the idea)

No big deal, I think, they always call me for Depends, or toothpaste, or nicely scented body wash. HA! Nice try.

“Um, your mother fell and is being ambulanced to the hospital 20 miles away (in a blizzard) because she may have hit her head and that’s the only head trauma unit.”

“Ok,” I say weakly, because I forgot to tell my 93 year-old mother-in-law not to dare go to the hospital today.

My husband comes home, and off we go, in the blizzard to the hospital. She did indeed break her hip and will have surgery(and then I will have to find a rehab for her).  Five hours later, we slowly drive home on snow-covered roads, reach our driveway, which now has broken snow-covered trees all over the place. We park in the street, walk gingerly through the snowy trees, and least you think this is some Robert Frost romantic moment,we find out we have no electricity and no heat.

You just have to laugh…..

Cathy Sikorski