My friend is 91-years-old and she needed to have an X-ray taken before she saw the surgeon.
We went over to the appropriate office where a funereal x-ray tech said to me,"Have her move over there, please.
" My 91-year-old friend exchanged glances with me.
"Have her remove her cardigan," said Mr Joypix.
"Um, excuse me," I said, "She speaks, she understands.
Please talk to the lady directly.
" "How long have people not been speaking directly to you?" I asked her later.
"Since my hair turned silver," she said and added, "If you have silver hair and someone is with you who doesn't, people speak to the one without the silver.
" So, just to stop all the rest of you from being horribly rude by accident, let me give a tiny etiquette lesson.
It goes like this.
Always address your remarks to the person whom the subject concerns.
So, if a silver-haired, or indeed completely bald, old person is going to be the source of your revenue, talk to that person.
Preferably in a pleasant manner.
Ah, you say, supposing that person is actually totally demented and won't remember a thing? That's okay, friends, because you can count upon it that the accompanying person will be listening very carefully.
There is no caregiver of an elder with dementia who doesn't listen carefully to what a doctor, a technician or a therapist has to say.
On the other hand, if an elder without dementia is going to be treated by you as if they were indeed incompetent, then you won't have that client or patient very long.
I know lots of elders and they tell each other who is a fabulous doctor or who has an efficient and friendly office AND who doesn't.
To be fair, it is not just elders who get the rude treatment by those who should know better.
I have a friend whose husband was stricken very young by a stroke.
When they went out, he was in a wheelchair.
When they ate out, which was often, servers frequently said to her, "What would he like?" "He's there, he speaks, ask him yourself," she'd say, mentally cutting the prospective tip by half.
I had a friend who was 84.
He didn't look it, that wild White Russian from Siberia.
He drove a red truck, wrote a great sentence and told great tales of Peter-the-Not-So-Great who exiled his rebellious family 300 years before.
We met for lunch one day and he was fit to be tied.
When he could finally speak, he said he'd just been to his doctor's office for a check-up.
After his appointment, the young woman at reception said, "Who's taking you home?" "Me," he said.
"I'm taking me home.
" "No, no," she said in that super patient voice all elders hate to hear, "I mean, how did you get here today.
" "Today I drove myself here in my truck," he said in no doubt the same tone.
"And now I'm driving myself home.
Then I'm going to sit down with my telephone book and find myself another doctor.
" And he did.
I thought he was right then and I still do.
Consumers rule.
Don't ever forget that - or your manners.