The Chronicles of the Night Wing: The Great Sink Scene Ep2

Night shifts in a nursing facility are like being the quiet guardian of a secret world.

The halls were dim, the large, round clock hanging on the wall just ticked a little louder than it does during the daytime, and the residents' rooms breathed quietly except for the occasional snoring of Mr. A in room 216. 

As usual, I was sitting in front of the computer writing night shift reports silently praying for the night to pass peacefully. And when I say peacefully, I mean no drama, no episodes of Tom and Jerry just pure peace. I looked at the clock above the toilet, it was exactly 2 in the morning. Time for a round in both units. I'm stationed on the 2nd floor of our facility, with the floor separated by 2 units. The units are divided by the laundry area, general closet, and storage area. 

This particular night began innocently enough. During my round, I quietly opened each of the residents' rooms to check. During my rounds, one obaasan (grandmother) had me in shock because as I opened the door, our eyes met. She wasn't sleeping. She was just staring at the door. I asked what the matter was. She gave me no reply. I just fixed her blanket and checked her air conditioner's temperature. Staying awake at night is one of the common things for people with dementia. For patients who still maintain physical ability, they tend to loiter around and lose their consciousness of their surroundings. They call it "haikai" in Japanese. That's why there are some cases where elderly people with dementia get lost or like run away because this is one of the symptoms of this disease. Another Ojisan (grandfather) was mumbling in his sleep, perhaps scolding someone in his past. 

However, that night, my wish for a peaceful shift was shattered not by a nurse call or alarm but by a faint trickle of water. I stopped, looked around, and listened intently, "Someone must have left the faucet running." But the sound of the water was steady and oddly confident. I grew suspicious. Confident is never a good word when you work in a nursing care facility for dementia patients. Confident sound means there is something beyond that. 

I walked towards room 214. The sound grew louder. I slowly opened the door and right there in front of the room sink was Mr. T, standing tall in his powder blue pajamas with printed little white clouds. His face shows a determination similar to that of a samurai warrior on a mission. Except his mission is to relieve himself in the sink.

It was a surreal sight. He stood firmly in front of his sink and was happily relieving himself as if it were the most natural thing to in the world. His face was calm, his shoulders were relaxed. The steady "psssssshhhh" harmonized with the gurgle of the sink.

I didn't rush him. I just stood there waited for him to finish while having an internal monologue. "Oh no, not the sink. That's gonna stink." When he's done, I couldnt help but gave him a round of applause. I said, "Wow Mr. T, you've got a good aim." He looked at me and grin mischievously. " Practice makes perfect." I was shocked because it means this is not the first time he's ever did this. 

I guided him back to his bed while explaining that sink and the toilet have entirely different functions. He just nodded lazily and dismissed me by saying "wakattayo" (I know). Judging from his annoyed response, this scene will likely occur again in the not so very far future. Say, tomorrow, same time, same place. I finally put him to bed and said "Oyasuminasai" (Goodnight). 

Cleaning the sink wasn't exactly the highlight of my shift but as I pour bleach into the sink and scrub it with a sponge and soap, I couldn't help but laugh and sigh. 

As I spend more time in my night shifts, I am slowly learning things and understanding different perspectives about old age and dementia. I have learned that having dementia doesn’t mean losing one's dignity. It just that dementia sometimes bends the lines between what is proper and what is practical. And maybe that’s not so different from life itself. We all have moments when we “miss the toilet” of expectation, when we don’t quite do things the way others think we should. But does that make us wrong? Or just human?