Bingo Hits and Misses

Friday, January 28, 2011

Another Friday night, another Bingo grab bag …  

• I stopped in Mike’s room first. He looked tired and excited all at once. Earlier he’d had a “passionate” talk with a staffer about moving into a single room, but now his son and granddaughter were coming for the weekend. Together, that makes for a lot of tension, so I kind of tried to distract him from both. We talked about his CDs and his new thief-proof drawer, and when I left for Bingo he decided to stay in his room and wait for his family.
• At Bingo, Ann Lawson told me Ray McDade has been sick and confined to his room—apparently the cold he had last week turned into something more sinister. I feel kind of bad that I didn’t go see him, but once she said “flu,” I scared myself out of that option. Instead I sent him an email to see how he is and whether he needs anything, and to wish him a speedy recovery.
• Billy called me over to ask my name. When I told him, he said, “The only way I can remember ‘Sandy’ is through John Travolta.” It took me a second, but finally I got it: “Grease!” I said. He smiled. “My nickname in high school was Sandra Dee!” I’m eager to see whether that association sticks for him.
• David Fox and Leo Burton tied for the first Blackout game, which meant they had to draw cards to determine the ultimate winner. Leo drew a queen; David drew a 3. I gave David a sympathetic pat on the shoulders, and he said, in his sweetly outside voice, “You can’t win ’em all!”
• Ari was back to call the numbers. In a flashback to last week and Ray’s germy hug, I had been talking to Ari all night. After Bingo, as we were tidying up, he told me, “Wow. I’ve got really bad bronchitis. I can hardly breathe.” Sigh. I go through a lot of hand sanitizer at the Soldiers Home.
• Bill Crowell didn’t come to Bingo, but he did wave me over to the door to talk. Unfortunately, people kept calling “Bingo,” and I had to give him the “just a second” signal four or five times. Finally I made it over, but all he said was, “I talked to the minister again; I’ll call you tomorrow.” Hmm.
• A man I’d never met came in toward the end of Bingo in his robe and slippers. It struck me that no one else had ever taken casual Friday quite so casually, and I wondered why not: Seems natural, in a sense, to walk down the hallway from your bedroom to your dining room for a night of games and prizes. But I quickly had my answser: The man’s robe did not have a belt, and once he sat down, “casual” turned into “uncomfortable”—at least for the prize-cart pusher coming right at him. Yikes.
• I was in Bingo when Mike’s family arrived, and they all stopped by for hugs and hellos. They also came back at the end of Bingo to say goodnight. His son and granddaughter went to their guest room, and Mike told me he’s thinking of working on walking in the physical-therapy room so we can dance at the Valentines dinner. I told him a) I am not much of a dancer myself, and b) I probably wouldn’t come back this weekend, but I felt good leaving him in the company of his family. He’s going to have a full weekend—but it’ll make for a good kind of tired.