The Power of Hats

I’ve been doing escorts (sounds like I’m a hooker) for local residents at retirement homes. Just like my father, they don’t have family nearby or easy ways to get to medical appointments. The twist is that these folks tend to have a touch of dementia, which makes every encounter an adventure. The upside is that they often don’t remember discomfort, and enjoy meeting me (even when we’ve been together before). The downside is that they don’t always know their history, their doctors rely on inadequate records, and we are all at the mercy of a fragmented healthcare system. I’ve witnessed some amazing physicians, like the one who bear hugs patients, understanding that touch is just as healing as drugs. There are also doctors who push meds without listening or caring.

Then there are people like 90-year-old Ruby, who is combative, anxious and suspicious of others taking advantage of her. Ruby worked as an ob-gyn nurse for decades before retiring 30 years ago. Now she’s a patient at the same facility where the providers are mostly young. She has memory tracking issues, however she is, in her own words, “feisty.” I’ve been with Ruby for 3 visits - each time begins with her saying she doesn’t like me and how everyone is trying to kill her. She knows a lot about Seattle history and points out all the places she used to go as the shuttle winds around town. I mostly listen. Ruby is a proud woman, I realize it’s not personal; she simply wants some control.

I tried a new tactic with Ruby yesterday. I told her that she was the boss and that doctors were her staff, and that she could score them on their competence. With each provider, she explained why she was there and at the conclusion she graded them. Most got As. The doctors were amused at first by this eccentric little old lady but they respected her. And that, in turn, gave her confidence.

While we were waiting for the shuttle to take her home, I saw silly hats at the hospital gift shop and ducked in to get one for upcoming summer festivities. As soon as Ruby saw my hat, she said “I want one too!” She handed me $2; I selected a pink and purple masterpiece that matched her outfit. We talked about not caring what was appropriate.

The director at the assisted living unit emailed me last night that Ruby wore her hat all day, bragged about being special, and lifted everyone’s spirits. I’m honored – and also aware that at our next visit, she probably won’t remember me. That’s okay. She has a great hat.