One Bad Random

Studies in User Interface Design

My mom was checked into the rehab center on Friday. Since it was basically the weekend they didn't do much of anything. They did a general assessment on Friday and took her for a couple of walks on Saturday and Sunday. In addition to that they occasionally stuck her leg into a machine that would alternately straighten and bend her leg. She had the same thing in the hospital. It seems like a great option for people that just want to lay there and let a machine do all the work.

With all that action the parents tended to get quite bored. I guess after 50+ years of marriage you kind of run out of things to talk about. My dad was miserable at the rehab place until he found out there was a TV he could watch. Unfortunately the buttons on the front confused both of my parents.

Mom: Why don't you see if the golf is on.
Dad: Well I hate to do that. I should be talking to you. Ain't I?
Mom: Well–
Dad: How do you turn this damn thing on?
Mom: Isn't there an "on" button?
Dad: What the hell are these arrows?
Lisa: That symbol there means "power." Try that one.
Dad: Okay. That's different. Okay. I can't change the channel. There's no sound. Oh. I can only change the channels one direction.
Lisa: You're using one volume button and one channel button. The channels are the two on the left. The volume are the two on the right.
Dad: There's ol' Tiger. Heh. Wait. Why's it in Spanish?
Mom: What's that mute button do?
Lisa: It mutes it. Here, let me try. There. Back in English.
Dad: I probably shouldn't watch it. I mean I'm here to visit you, ain't I?
Mom: It's fine.

I hand my mom my phone and show her how to play Freecell on it. Suddenly, everybody's happy.

The Genetics of Baldheadedism

Since everyone is happily occupied I turn my attention to the book I brought along. After a few minutes my dad snaps out of his fascination with golf on TV and starts talking to me.

Dad: When did you get bald headed?
Me: What?
Dad: I'm not bald headed. Your brothers ain't bald headed. No one in my family is bald headed.
Me: I don't know. It's thin. I don't think I'm technically–
Lisa: They say it comes from the mother's side.
Me: Oh, god. That's a myth. There are several–
Dad: No one in your mother's family is bald headed. Virginia, do you have any bald headed people in your family?
Mom: No! Nobody is bald in my family.
Dad: Well you got one now. Your boy is bald headed.
Me: Can we say "bald headed" less? Maybe I'm adopted.
Lisa: Bald headed.
Dad: Adopted? Sure. Maybe you're the milkman's. He wasn't bald headed either, though.

Three Little Indians

One of the great things about semi-private rooms is that you get to be close to your fellow humans. In this case my mom's room had three other patients in it. I'll now refer to them by race for two reasons: 1) you are aware of who raised me, right? and 2) it's easier than making up fake names for them.

A black woman was in there after knee replacement surgery. In this case it was a replacement of a previous replacement. She seemed to be able to get around pretty well. Another Hispanic woman was in there after some sort of car accident. The third woman was an older white lady that had fallen three times in the last week at home.

The Hispanic lady and the white lady were both on "fall watch." They put a strap across your bed that will sound an alarm if you try to get up (or roll around too much apparently). The Hispanic lady was also having some diarrhea issues. While reading my book I overhear her hit the call button.

Intercom: Yes?
Hispanic Lady: I have to poop.
Intercom: Okay. Just a minute.

At this point it sounds like she starts to try and get up from the bed (there's a curtain between us) and the fall alarm starts going off to let the nurses know she's making a break for it.

Intercom: Is everything okay, ma'am?
Hispanic Lady: Ugn!!! I'm going to poop!
Intercom: We're sending someone now. Just a minute.
Nurse: Ma'am, please get back into bed.
Hispanic Lady: I'm going to poop!
Nurse: Ma'am just wait. Don't!
Hispanic Lady: It's too late. It's out already!
Nurse: Oh, god! Wait! Just wait!
Hispanic Lady: Aaaahhhhh!!!

At this point the whole room goes quiet (except for the sounds of my stifled laughter). Suddenly the room is filled with the smell of shit. Lisa hurriedly shuffles out of the room. My parents seem baffled at why I'm turning beet red and clutching my sides. Am I wrong to laugh?

Wrap It Up

My mom finally gets a little rehab on Monday. It consists of walking her around a bit and making sure she can walk up a couple of steps. They determine that she's ready to be released. Tuesday morning we head to the rehab center and wait around about an hour for them to do the final paper work. From there we hit Jim's Restaurant for some fine cuisine and equally stimulating conversation (mostly about my dad's opinion that Obama is the devil and that it ain't racial profiling if they're Mexicans).

After that we get her home and watch her get around a bit during some routine tasks. Everything looks pretty good and we head to dinner. Lisa and I continue to watch rather than help so we can determine how well she can handle things. Overall she looks good and assures us she can handle things. With that in mind we decide it's time to head back home to enjoy TVs at normal volume and beds that don't cause us physical pain.

If my update history on this blog is any indication please be sure to check back here a year from now for the next exciting episode.

This entry was posted on Monday, May 10th, 2010 at 10:38 pm and is filed under Humor. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.