Make Mine Fried, Please

An older lady with dementia had been parked in one of my rooms for the entire day when I took over her care.  Because she had a habit of reporting that her care givers beat her, which turned out to be the dementia talking, she had pretty much burned bridges everywhere and now she had no place to go.  Her estranged elderly husband was willing to take her, but there was a small matter of a restraining order to be dealt with first, which was some big misunderstanding according to the many parties involved.  Somehow the restraining order was vacated by a judge in record time.  Gotta love small town America.

The poor wandering lady had been fed, watered, toileted, walked, sung to, chatted with and entertained.   She was kind of entertaining herself as she kept up a steady stream of consciousness.  Every few minutes she asked where her husband was, and that she was tired of waiting.  Mostly she talked nonsense, but once in awhile she seemed to make sense, even if momentarily.

"Have you seen my bird?"
"No, I have not.  Where did you see it last?"
"I had it here, it was in the bag when I came here"
"What kind of bird, can you describe it?"
"It was a green bird, with blue feathers and small red feet,  I fed it some birdseed.  Do you have any chocolate?"
"I have some Lorna Doones.  Your bird sounds pretty, was it a big bird or a small bird?"

She indicated the size with her hands.

"Oh, about the size of a chicken?"

"Yes, like a chicken".  She fiddled with her bracelet, folded a washcloth, and placed the kleenex box on the center of the table.  She sighed loudly.  "I've been waiting hours and hours! Is my husband coming?"

"He said in about a half hour.  It shouldn't be long now"

Another big sigh.  "He should come now!  He is taking too long, if he doesn't come soon……
I will kill him like a chicken"

Me: "I didn't hear that"

The social worker in the next room actually giggled.
But props to her for getting the wheels of justice turning to get the lady a safe place to go.