Portal de Periódicos da CAPES

Thursdays with Caroline

2004; Wiley; Volume: 52; Issue: 8 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1111/j.1532-5415.2004.52378.x

1532-5415

Ritabelle Fernandes,

Nursing Education, Practice, and Leadership

We met a few years ago through the Waikiki Friendly Neighbors Program;1 I was an ex-piano teacher from Bombay matched with Caroline, an ex-second violinist of the Honolulu Philharmonic Orchestra (Figure 1). Having recently moved to Hawaii, I longed for an extended family or ohana, so I volunteered for the program. Caroline was just entering the “feeble minded” stage (as she would put it) of her life at 94; I was learning about it at the Geriatric Medicine fellowship program. My weekly friendly visits were Thursdays, and off to the Safeway supermarket we would go. Caroline at the grocery store. Eddie and the rest of the gang at the store soon got to know Caroline by name. She loves to say hello to everyone—her favorite checkout lady is Katsue, whom she often addresses as “Chick-a-sue.” Helloing the little children and babies whose legs hang out of the shopping carts, Caroline often informs other shoppers who stop to talk with her that she is helping me shop—helping to push the cart! I always let her pick out the papayas; she knows instinctively which ones are good (there is a definite science to that). Bananas are her favorite; she insists on picking a big bunch and claims to eat two or three every day even though the refrigerator tells another tale. Last week when the toothbrushes were on sale, Erica, her paid caregiver, wrote 12 on the shopping list. While I turned my back to select a nice multicolored assortment of toothbrushes, Caroline wandered off. Freaking out, I searched the store only to find her in the produce section joking with the store employee that she would not live long enough to use 12 toothbrushes! Caroline loves the drive to the store and draws my attention to the present moment: admiring the pretty clouds and rainbows, the beautiful sunset, and the canoes along the Ala Wai canal and laughing with amusement at one of the local's dog, McDuff, all dressed up for his evening walk in a T-shirt and sunglasses. On the way home, I ask how her week has been and if someone took her to church on Sunday. Caroline is embarrassed that she cannot remember and then asks me with an anxious look “Do you think I have Alzheimer's?” I reply, “No, it's just old age catching up with you,” even though she has been taking Aricept for the previous 2 years—she is my friend not my patient. Caroline especially loves the male species, and it is a wonder how she managed to remain single all her life. On the way back to her apartment she makes small talk with any and every man riding the elevator then winks at me. When we return home, my friend insists that I play the piano. She has a soft spot for Chopin and is my captive audience. Due to a previous right shoulder injury and a broken A string, she stopped practicing the violin and has turned to the piano. Like Professor Morris Schwartz, for Caroline there is no such thing as “too late” in life.2 We often play duets, singing aloud popular tunes as well as hymns. Caroline watches the televangelists with great passion—she is the daughter of a Baptist minister. Who Wants to Be a Millionaire is her favorite show, next to the Golden Girls. She is of the opinion that Regis Philbin is the most handsome man ever, with the best ties. We still go shopping every Thursday. My friend will turn 99 in February 2005 and plans to live till 101. She is in the process of writing a song that begins like this—”My name is Caroline, I live in 1009, won't you come and see me sometime, I'll even offer you a glass of wine.” She continues to serenade me goodbye with Aloha Oe and reiterates—“Thursday is the highlight of my week.” My happiness lies in knowing that.