Alzheimer Bowling

Last night for my service environment, I didn't end up playing Bingo--or Jingo, as it was dubbed for the night--as the nursing home leaders told Kelli, Tiffany (my mentor) and I to help with the bowling.

It was like the mission trip all over again! In Canada, we (my friend Ruthie and I) went bowling with Alzheimer-patients, and that is exactly what we did last night, except, obviously, it was Kelli with me, not Ruthie.

So we set up the bowling pins. Tiffany, Kelli and I were the runners--there were only two runners needed, so Kelli and I would switch every once in a while, one sitting down and talking with the elderly, one helping Tiffany. There was this one woman--Mary Anne, her name was--who refused to throw the ball (not a real bowling ball, but made of hard, fairly-light plastic) at the pins. She would pretend to aim at the pins, but then whirl around and hurl the balls at an innocent bystander. Talk about dangerous. Kelli was nearly pulverized, as was Tiffany. (I was spared, thank goodness)

Then there was this other, Maxine, who was--according to our church leader--a "complete hoot". When Maxine was introduced to me, she was like "Hey, beautiful!" and then to Kelli, she said, "Ooh, you are so pretty!" Then she said to Tiffany, "We really need to get some more men in here; this beauty shouldn't be wasted." Old people's compliments are like no-one else's. I asked her about her kids, and she told me she had three triplets who could talk in complete sentences five minutes after they were born. Kelli asked her the same question a little later, and Maxine promptly replied, "Oh, I have five kids, three boys and two girls. They're about this long"--holds her hands about two feet apart--"and like to say 'No, Mama'." Then Tiffany asked her the same question a little later, and the elderly woman said, "I have four kids, three boys, one girl. The girl I gave birth to three days ago. She went away."

I had this big hole in my jeans, and Maxine was like patting me on the leg, saying, "I love you, beauty, you and your little..." she squinted at my bare knee "you and your little...naked...thing." All of the people who came with my church glanced sharply at us (Maxine talks really loud), and I hurriedly said, "Oh, yeah, the hole in my jean, yeah, I like it too." (I said that pretty loud, I wanted everyone to know she was talking about my jean hole.) I had a whole bunch of little holes too, over my back pockets, front pockets, and legs, and such, and she poked all of them gently, saying fondly, "Love all of your little ones too..." So funny. :)

Overall, I had a ton of fun. :)