Ada the Cheeky

The other morning Aunt-Ada was sitting in her chair, and I could hear her nurse saying ‘No – Ada don’t swallow. You gotta spit it out!’ Ada hates the weekend nurse, and becomes stubborn and rebellious around her.

It was then I saw that the nurse was holding a cup of chilling green mouth-wash and a bucket to spit in.
Again, she gave Ada a swig of of mouthwash.
Again Ada stared defiantly, swallowing slowly and on purpose.
(I was half laughing half dry-heaving in the kitchen)

The nurse spoke even louder ‘You gotta spit it! Spit it out Ada! Don’t swallow!’

Ada stared with even more malice. A third try was issued.

Ada swallowed.

The nurse shook her head.

Ada had won that battle, (thanks aging taste buds), but the war had just begun.

Naf

Today I feel homeless. Juice spilt in my bag. I made a bad lunch decision. I have no purpose and no where to go. No where I’ve gotta be, which should be the greatest feeling in the world, but for some reason it’s not.

Ada the Movie Star!

After two hours of persuasion, we convinced Ada she must pay her carers, and therefore make a trip to the bank. So we dressed her like a movie star, to make her feel better. It was fun! Like playing dolls, only this one is life sized and can speak Polish. They should make ‘granny’ dolls for Barbie. You can dress them in their amazing vintage wardrobes, they have collected over their life-time, back when clothes were made to last.

We chose black tights, little red shoes, a black and white check jacket - that I would totally wear! We fixed a broach to it, gave her a silk scarf and a huge fur coat – that some poor animal gave their life for. To top the outfit off: a cream and black beret, shocking red lipstick, and a huge set of circular round sunglasses. It was soo cool! But you have to admit, she looked a little ridiculous. Especially being wheeled around the streets. She certainly turned heads.

It was the first time she’s left the apartment in over a month.

Fears?

My worst fears in general are
- being eaten by a shark
- getting cancer from the years of eating potato crisps …. (so apparently they have cancer causing caseinogens)
- having regrets

Other more pressing fears are:
- that I will have to get a job thanks to how much I’m spending on food alone
- that I will sabotage my career through procrastination and endless blogging

Fears in the back of my mind:
- that if I don’t have kids, I will regret it, and if I do have the little buggers, I might resent them if I have to give up my freedom

What are your worst fears?

Bathing Ada

Asking Ada to take a bath is kind of like trying to lick your elbow. It’s tricky … and seemingly impossible, and you feel like a bit of a knob. “Don’t be stupid! You must think I’m an idot!” she will yell.

But the other morning we were able to trick her into the bathroom to take a bath, and before I knew it she was stark naked, and I was helping get her nappy off her ankles (something I thought I’d never do!)

Fact: When you get old, you become a little kid again. You don’t care who sees you naked.

Her body was white, hairless, soft and full, draped with thin wrinkly skin, like that of an albino scrotum.
And her boobs - although fallen, were round and full like two water balloons inside a thin seamless case. Her nipples seemed to have disappeared completely.

Looking at her body was like looking at a little kids body. It’s kind of alien, and you don’t think of it with any kind of emotion - just mild curiosity.

Usually she weeps like a baby when being forced to bath, but today she is solem, and sits. Ada’s carers grab her tits and tell her that her girls were in good shape!

It’s time for her to wash her bits… and I’m out of there. That’s enough for me to handle in one day.

Things that go aye! in the night

Lot’s has happened at home lately. Ada’s new drugs have had some strange side effects. For the last four nights, I’ve been woken up and had to help the nurse lift poor Ada off the floor. (Not easy.. and some times quiet funny, because we’d accidentally end up throwing her face down on the bed). I know it doesn’t sound funny, but when you see two pyjama clad women, trying to manoeuvre an old Jewish lady who is making dramatic grunts while sporting bed-hair that rivals Amy Whinehouse or an angry Muppet, it must look a funny sight.

Persistence pays

Today I almost gave up, and contemplated committing suicide by ice-cream at Ben and Jerries… but thankfully a healthy dose of persistence meant I’ve lived through a day of Jeans Shopping.

I tried on over 30 pairs of jeans, with a try : fits : looks_ok ratio of 30 : 3 : 1.

BTW, it has dawned on me a truth, that I suspected last time I was here, but can now confirm…Australia is ahead of fashion in NY (by about a year). And to be completely honest… Melbourne has better shopping. There. I said it. I can’t believe it’s true. It takes a lot of guts to admit this. Jeez!!