A PSW (Personal Support Worker) of our very own

A PSW (Personal Support Worker) of our very own

Until very recently, I was quite unsure as to how and for how long I could look after Anne here in our home. Anne is afflicted with stage 4 glioblastoma, a particularly aggressive form of brain cancer.

Until Latifa, our assigned PSW, arrived at the door.

“I’m here for Anne…uh Schl…”

She muttered Shankar or Schindler, as so many folks do, Anglos and Francos alike.

“What kind of a name is that anyway?” Latifa asked, meaning Anne’s family name “Schlenker.”

“I know all about having my name massacred,” Latifa added, flashing her identity badge.

Latifa asked me if I was the primary caregiver. When I responded in the affirmative, she opined that elderly caregivers with female offspring are usually better off, as they do rotating care.

She was nonplussed to learn that our sons were expert caregivers, but were simply taken by work responsibilities or too far away to provide immediate assistance.

She insisted that girls were the preferred option.

(Anne and I were reminded of the scene in The Descendants (novel and film), when the beleaguered father, played by George Clooney, asks a friend of his older daughter, Sid, how he should deal with female offspring. “Have boys, I guess,” said Sid helpfully.)

Be that as it may, Latifa is an expert in patient hygiene and in symptom management whose palliative care credentials are impeccable. Her supervisor informed me that she was the most sought-after PSW in the entire west end of Ottawa.

Latifa will spell me off four times per week and she will transform our lives.

Your friend,

Robert

https://robertmcbrydeauthor.com/