The sun was starting to go down when another CNA came running to the nurse’s station and informed me that “The crazy lady down in 3B has become confused and combative again.” I told her that she was not crazy, she was sick with Alzheimer’s and her name was Amber. I went to Amber’s room and she was flailing on the bed; I walked over to her bed and asked her what was wrong. She said she wanted Peter. I explained to her that Peter was in heaven and that she would have to wait to see him, that it wasn’t her time yet. I went over to the dresser and picked up Peter’s picture and the jewelry box and took it over to her. While I put them on the bedside table, I asked her to think about long ago when they were first married and starting a family. She calmed right down, looked at me with tears in her eyes and said “Thank you for always being there for me”. I straightened up her bed, filled her water pitcher, left the light on in the bathroom so she could see Peter’s face if she woke up scared, put the signal light by her side and told her if there was anything that she needed to press the button and I would be there. She smiled at me and went to sleep.

 

When I arrived at work after a few days off, I was informed that none of the other CNA’s could keep Amber happy. She would scream for me whenever someone else walked into her room to care for her. They kept calling her “the crazy lady in 3B”. I informed my coworkers that, when I cared for Amber, I refused to rush her; instead, I slowly explained to her what I was going to do and treated her with respect.  I reminded them that Amber was not a monster or crazy, she was sick. Every time I went into her room her face lit up and she smiled. 

 

Several days later, we were all sitting at the nurse’s station getting caught up on all the charts while the residents were sleeping. Suddenly, the door alarm went off and all you could hear was a loud beeping. Then, one of the nurses came running up to me and said, “Your crazy woman is out wandering in the parking lot!” Somehow Amber had gotten herself into her wheelchair by herself.  I turned off the door alarm and went outside to find her. She was at the end of the driveway, just about to the highway. I asked her where she was going; she said that she had to get home to make Peter and the boys some supper. I took the handles on her wheelchair and told her that I would help her get home so she wouldn’t get lost. I walked her back to her room, gave her Peter’s picture and the jewelry box, and she settled down and drifted off to sleep.