Her Name Was Veronica

                Today I was watching a movie that had a character named Veronica in it.  Afterwards the song ‘Veronica’ by Elvis Costello popped into my head.  I started singing it as I walked around the house aimlessly, while doing laundry.  It was stuck in my brain, so I decided I needed to listen to it.  I opened my laptop and went to youtube.com, this being the quickest way I could immediately listen to that specific song.  On YouTube’s homepage there was a featured video of Seth Rogen on C-span talking to a senate appropriations committee.  When I saw his face I thought of his guttural annoying laugh and the secret jealousy I have about his fame sprung up in the back of my mind.  Of course I had to watch this video first.  I began to watch and it turned out that Mr. Rogen was there to speak to the senate about Alzheimer’s disease.  He told a personal story about his mother in law.  And gave some nice factual information about the cost, the ugliness, and the overall crapy’ness of the disease.  He spliced in his own brand of self-deprecating humor.  It was at this point that I said whoah this is weird, ‘Veronica’ is a song about an old woman with dementia.  I glossed this over as an interesting coincidence and not the internet’s subtle way of controlling and or knowing my thought process, and kept listening to Mr. Rogen’s testament.  He apparently helped start a charity. 

                This all made me think of Mr. W, at work.  Mr. W is an employee of mine that has in my opinion a good amount of the symptoms normally attributed with the very early stages of this disease.  When I first met him I assumed he was very slow.  Through conversations I have learned that he is a veteran and was an electrician for 30 years before retiring.  He works for me now doing menial work.  No matter how hard I try I cannot teach him and have him retain the knowledge that is required for these menial tasks.  One day I will “correct a behavior” as they call it where I work, and the next day he will do the same wrong thing again.  When confronted he says with a surprised somewhat vacant look in his eyes, “oh nobody ever told me that, thanks.”.  Others at my workplace sometimes think it is an act, because he can be so cognitive at times, but then he will just fall apart.  He bums me out daily.  I am frustrated not just because he slows me down, but also because I can’t imagine not being in complete control of my brain. 

                On Christmas Eve, one of the few days we don’t work, I got a call from a colleague of mine.  I ignored the call figuring that they were trying to get me to come in and do some last minute work.  He left a message, when I listened to it I found out that my co-worker had found Mr. W in the building on Christmas Eve.  He had been sitting there since noon and it was now six pm.  My co-worker asked him what he was doing there, and his only response was he was there to work.  I had told Mr. W our holiday schedule before he left the day before, but in my haste to get home and be with my family, I forgot to write it down for him.  Rather than make an embarrassed call to find out if we were working on Christmas Eve, he had just showed up around the time that we normally work.  I sat down to eat with my family trying to fight back tears as we began to eat.  Feeling how sad it was.  How he just sat there all day when he could’ve been with his family, and this was all my fault.  He had to just sit there all alone in an empty warehouse with only his thoughts for company. 

                I have gotten over my guilt but still every day I want to do something to help.  Maybe I do by asking the same questions daily.  By the repetitive tasks I get him to do.  It still doesn’t make me feel any less helpless.