Meet Cora. Cora is a gourmet cook and spent time as a travel agent. Cora traveled. She hosted dinner parties difficult to execute. Her food, not easily replicated, ignited the palate. Cora has beautiful taste in decorating and is one to give attention to details. Her home was always adorned in surprising and pleasant ways. She has one child who was always welcome there. Her family is from up north and she was a cheer leader which meant high school was fun. She engaged in sports most of her adult life. She played bridge and spent a lot of time with close friends. Then, something happened to Cora.
Cora is still the person she is. What happened to her is not who she is. What happened to Cora can happen to anyone but that does not make any of those people the same as each other. Each person is different in spite of a medical event. Cora’s medical event began just over five years ago with a small stroke. She must have then had others and they probably leaked blood. The body does not take that well, or I should say, the brain does not.
It caused Cora to seem to be looking just past the person talking with her which is what her family first noticed one Christmas. It caused her to have difficulty keeping her place in a conversation. It must have been scary. And embarrassing. Cora was still Cora yet those medical events and consequences were making her appear to be somebody else. She is not.
Over time and slowly, the strokes created progressively more symptoms. Cora was and remains aware of her lack of ability to effectively communicate, her lack of balance and feelings of unrest, and over time, heightened agitation. She quickly became unable to cook and preferred not to be around people who would notice her difficulties engaging in conversation. Others had to do more and more of what she could do and she still knew it. Over time, Cora appeared to grow young in her manner of speaking and interacting with others; a seeming ten-year old, maybe laughing inappropriately, later a five-year old, getting upset too easily, and then more a three-year old, insisting on her way in all things small as the stroke over time wore on her brain, and continues to.
She is still Cora. She is not a child though she may seem difficult in child-like ways. Cora remembers that she is a good cook. She remembers hosting dinner parties, remembers good times with her friends, still feels love for her child. She had to say good-bye to her well-appointed kitchen and dining room fit for a dinner party not many people could accomplish and Cora could. She knows. You should know, too, because that’s the Cora you are taking care of.
All her life experiences are still there. What happened to her has cause them to be unnoticeable and has given her the disadvantage of not being able to share them with you. When you go into her room, know that she cried when she had to leave her home. You would, too. She knew those strokes and brain bleeds caused her to have to say good-bye to the life she had. There was a lot of life to say good-bye to and now Cora is in this situation.
It is not a situation any of us would want to be in but could be some day. We need to remember that. And some day, we might not even have had close to the life Cora has had. Not everybody does. She finds herself in a place where she can be taken care of, where she can be safe, and should be enjoyed. Do not forget to enjoy Cora. Be patient with what happened to her and remember what happened to her is not her.
With all of this in mind, your days with Cora, and her days, will go more smoothly. Life for her will be less sad, by even a small bit. You can go home remembering this is not her but what happened to her, go home having helped Cora in this difficult situation she did not create and does not want. Your day at work was well spent, you can be sure. You were needed. Remember that. Our gifts come back to us. Blessings do flow. And taking care of Cora, the Cora you should remember and not forget, that is a blessing, too.