the golden years, can't wait for them

i was doing a new patient assessment. it went like this:

myself and the company marketer walk into this old little apt. This 97 year old man, and probably about 97 lbs, was sitting alone on a moldy sofa.

me "Hello Fred (name changed), my name is Shanna, how are you doing?"

fred "I know what you're thinking (yelling in an old crackly voice). And NO I don't have dementia."

Great introduction. And he was just getting started.....

We did a short assessment, and out of the blue he turned his head towards me and locked his gaze.

fred "Why?" "WHY??"he shouted (the marketer asked "why what?") "Why?" he said again. He didn't take his foggy cataract eyes off me for a second. The war was on.

me Staring right back at him, in a firm voice, "Because" he blinked, processing my response. Then his lips raised to show a toothless smile and he started laughing.

fred: "Have you ever heard the Golden years poem?"

me "no"

fred: not waiting for an invitation started in, by memory,

(some words have been changed.. so if it doesn't make sense sorry...)

" The Golden Years, my golden years have come at last, I cannot see, I cannot pee, I cannot chew, Oh My what can I do? My memory shrinks My hearing stinks No sense of smell I look like heck! My mood is bad - can you tell? My body's drooping, Have trouble pooping The Golden Years has come at last ,The Golden Years can kiss my but."

i LOVE my job.