Day 51 - Bingo

image by Catherine V, via Flickr

We played Bingo today at Dad's nursing home. Wednesday is Bingo day every week, so it was no surprise. But since I am only in town occasionally, I always enjoy Bingo day because it is an objective way to measure Dad's involvement with the environment.
The last time I was in town was shortly after Dad's short-term memory took a trip without him. When we started playing Bingo that day, Dad just ignored his card. I kept my eye on both his and mine and pulled the red windows over the numbers as they were called. About half way through the first game, he started looking at his card, eventually pulling it over to be closer to him and shifting his glasses at an odd angle to get a better view of the numbers on the card. Then he started reaching forward to pull the red windows himself, but his hand-eye coordination wasn't quite under control. His hand was either too high or too far to the right to pull the window.  After a few tries, he pushed the card away and said it was too hard. So I took over for him until his interest was piqued again and he began paying closer attention and trying again.

The following week his vision interfered a little less. His fingers aimed a little high, but not over to the right. He didn't push the card away or stop paying attention. I only had to direct his eyes to one of the numbers infrequently.

It has been six weeks since that Wednesday. And Dad's memory hasn't gotten better. So that means each conversation will reoccur a minute or so later. I answer each of Dad's questions as if it were the first time I have heard it. So I was looking forward to Bingo even more today. It would be a break from the repeated questions.

I watched Dad, of course, but I also watched the others at the table. Alice was sitting next to Dad and she was paying very close attention to the numbers being called. She nearly always pulled a red window over a number, but rarely because it was the right number. Occasionally she would reverse the action and lift the window to expose the number again. It didn't matter to Alice whether she was playing according to the rules or even if she Bingo'ed. She was enjoying the time, she was engaged, and she was smiling.

Next to Alice was her daughter-in-law who visits Alice every day. She doesn't obsess about whether Alice is following the rules or paying attention. She just smiles at Alice and Alice smiles back and that is as good as it gets, and probably better than many other mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationships.

Next to Alice's daughter-in-law was another resident I'll call Mary. Mary had two Bingo cards, but she seemed to have difficulty hearing. She would look up at me and shake her head with a question in her eyes after about every other number. I repeated the number and she turned back to her cards to cover the number with the red window. And the final person at the table was another resident I'll call Betty. Betty had only one card, but she preferred to use it in reverse: instead of pulling the red windows over the numbers when called, she started out with all the windows covering the numbers and she uncovered them when a number was called. At least that's how she started out the game. About half way through, she got confused and started looking at the uncovered numbers instead of the covered ones.

Dad got Bingo once. But he didn't notice it so I raised his card for the Bingo caller to see. I'm a little competitive. I admit it. But as the games continued, I realized that the examples of Alice and her daughter-in-law were pretty significant, so I decided that continuing to play was more important than calling out Bingo to win. Luck seemed to be with me and my card on the next game. I think I had the first five numbers called, putting me in a good position to Bingo quickly. But I decided to keep playing my card regardless of the pattern of the red windows. It was the final game of the afternoon, the one where three Bingo winners get their dime prizes but the game continues as a blackout round. By this time, Dad was getting more involved. Now, when he saw five red windows in a row, he shouted "Bingo" not once but twice. I reminded him it was blackout Bingo now, but inside I celebrated a little bit because he was alert and attentive to something outside of himself.

I've never enjoyed playing Bingo more.