MORE Pajama Drama?

One of the nurse aides in Erik's wing is B.  She's a joyful, fun person.   She saw me this morning as I was heading to his room.  She smiled and told me that Erik has been "pushing her buttons."  She will get him ready for bed, dressing him in the hospital gown they regularly use and wouldn't you know, Erik really doesn't seem to appreciate this bedtime attire.   B walks by his room and sees him sitting up, signaling with his index finger "come here!" She'll go in, find that he's taken off his hospital gown and rolled it up into a ball.  She puts it back on him, talking to him nicely about how he needs to leave it on.  But I ask you, does he?

I have Erik's old, threadbare blue pj's folded in my laundry room right now.  Sometimes I see them and remember what a power struggle we had with them.  And I think, "Well, I guess he's forgotten all about these pj's."   Well, now I wonder.   

Did I ever tell you what Erik would do with pj's when he was little?  He loved his pj's so much he would roll them up and stuff them under his pillow when he got dressed in the morning.  Then at night, he'd get them out and wear them to bed.  My mom never caught on that they weren't showing up in the wash.   Until one day a horrible smell permeated his room and they were discovered under the pillow.   Erik was upset to see them promptly going in the wash because they had become so soft and he liked them just as they were.

You may remember how particular Erik is about pajamas.  (If not, visit this post or this one) 

Another nurse told me today how she found Erik sitting up Indian style in his bed.  He's not tried to get out of bed by himself, thank goodness - I don't think he'd make it on his own.  When he's awake and alone in his room he clearly makes his presence known.   Sometimes he lets out a strange wail or yell "Hey!" as someone walks by.  The other women in the hall tell me they've gotten used to it and it doesn't bother them.  I sure hope it doesn't.   Another nurse aide walked by Erik today as we were sitting in the hall.  She leaned down close to him, curled her finger around his finger, kissed his head and sang, "Erik, my Erik, my Erik and me!"  She said that's their little song. I love that. I love it that Erik is receiving such sweet care in spite of his little protests.