Hmmm

On the afternoon before the book club party, just after I start in on a project with a tight deadline at work, and just before the bosses drop by unexpectedly to negotiate next year’s contract with me, the phone rings and it’s Noi, the new kid. She wants me to know that she has quit the caregiver agency.

It turns out that Jip was her first and last placement. According to the rules of the agency, because Noi didn’t complete a full month on the job, she gets nothing. Can I help? she asks. I tell her to hang on while I go find somebody who can translate for us on the phone. I want to make sure I understand this right.

A woman I don’t know especially well is standing in the hall, and she says she can try. Her English isn’t the best in the office, but it’s lots better than my Thai. She talks to Noi for a minute and confirms the agency policy. I ask her to tell Noi that I’ll call the agency and explain that her work was fine but that she just wasn’t a perfect match for Jip.

After the woman hangs up, she asks about why I decided not to keep Noi. I tell her about a few of my worries. She asks if Jip gets frustrated with other people too. I say yes, sure. I don’t go into great detail. She says, “John, I think you should also examine yourself.”

I look puzzled. For one thing, I’m not sure if her words came out the way she meant, given that her English isn’t perfect. For another thing, this kind of advice is not very Thai. Being blunt here is rare. But she continues and I know I’ve heard her exactly the way she intended. She says, “John, I’ve been watching the email. You are involved in more and more of the work around here. I think you are thinking about other things when you are at home and not thinking about your wife.”

Whoa. I say, “Could be.”

I’ve got a book club party to go home and cook for.

She says, “Not ‘could be,’ John. Sure.”

We talk for a few more minutes, but we don’t really need to say any more.

Hosting

Meanwhile, I was getting ready to host the monthly meeting of the embassy book club. During the eight or nine months I’ve been attending this group, I’ve found most of the dozen or so regulars to be vocal, serious about finishing the books, and very generous with their hospitality. Finally it was my turn to put on the pre-discussion dinner and tidy up the apartment and find enough chairs and that sort of thing.

Keep in mind that with few exceptions, Jip and I don’t entertain. For about the past five years, it’s been overwhelming for Jip to be around lots of people at once. She can’t always tell who is speaking. She doesn’t pick up on the body language. If too many voices bounce around a room at the same time, she has been known to get a little freaked out.

So here in Bangkok we don’t own many plates, glasses, or spoons. Put it this way: if we let dishes pile up in the sink after breakfast, there aren’t enough clean ones left for lunch. Before this club meeting, I loaded up on plasticware from the local supermarket. Then I tried to prepare Jip for the event by talking about the guests (she knew nobody) and the menu (spaghetti). Pretty soon it was clear that I was more nervous about it than she was. A friend suggested that we both might relax if one or two folks from the group met Jip ahead of time, so at least some people would be familiar at the party.

That idea worked slick. Sam and Lesley, who hosted a few months back and live nearby, came over for ten minutes on a Sunday afternoon. A few days later, when the doorbell started to ring, Jip asked, “Is that Sam? Where’s Lesley?” She did her exercise routine as usual, on the rug in the middle of the living room, surrounded by people who paused, mid-appetizer, to admire her yoga abilities. When I asked her if the crowd was bugging her, she grinned and said, “Crowd? What crowd?”

And Then There Were Two

Last week started out with me telling the new kid she didn’t need to come back. She wasn’t working out, and even though things could have been lots worse, my gut told me they weren’t likely to get better quickly. I decided to nip it in the bud rather than bring about change by wishing, which I find never works.

So we’re back to two caregivers. One, Puang, has worked about a month with Jip, but it feels like we’ve known her for life. She’s funny and wise and knows just when to push and when to joke. The other, Ya, has been with Jip since the beginning, about fifteen months already. The recent staff turnover has brought her out of her shell a little bit. It seems like she enjoys being the experienced elder.

Until we find a replacement for Noi, the new kid, I’m not as free as I’d hoped to be. Still, letting her go was the right thing for the long term. Jip never said she was unhappy with her, but Jip’s words are no longer always a reliable gauge of how she’s feeling. She’s likely to criticize and praise the same caregiver on the same day.

Her actions usually tell a clearer story. Sometimes recently, Jip has done what we all do when under stress—resorted to strategies that we tried in earlier stages of life. She’ll plug her ears rather than discuss an unpleasant situation, or she’ll bang her fists in frustration if things aren’t going the way she’s used to. I noticed her doing things like that after the new kid’s shift was over. Since the kid has been gone, that stuff has been rarer.

Fewer Blues

This week we didn’t have another Stormy Monday. Tuesday wasn’t just as bad, Wednesday wasn’t even worse, and Thursday wasn’t awful sad. Since the time last week when Jip threatened to take a vow of silence, we haven’t had to welcome and train a new caregiver. Maybe the fifth try was the charm.

It comes back to me now that when we first came to town, we also had a period of revolving door hiring. So I shouldn’t complain too much this time … except that I no longer can devote all day to finding and coaching people like I could then. And the candidates who bailed out a year ago did so after their first day. This round, they’ve gone through three or four days of tutoring before vanishing.

The newest member of our three-person team shows up 45 minutes early every day and seems eager to learn. Jip described her at first as “a good kid.” Time will tell if she or the other newcomer will ever be as good as the woman who decided, after a year of working with Jip, to go back to school. It takes a while to figure out all the tricks of the trade.

Last Saturday I went out to play. Maybe this Sunday I’ll kneel down and pray.

How Was Your Monday?

• Had a few false starts in our quest to expand staff and create seamless care for Jip, but by the weekend I figured the new group had come together nicely,
• got my hopes up during my usual 24-hour solo Sunday shift, thinking it was the last one I’d do for a while,
• then Jip was awake more than usual during the night,
• the new caregiver showed up half an hour late in the morning, sounding like the routine was still a little fuzzy in her mind,
• no problem, I said, because the other newcomer should be here any minute, you two can help each other fill in what you don’t recall,
• except that the other newcomer didn’t come, sounding a little sheepish on the phone when I reached her,
• perhaps because she remembered my telling her that if she saw any problems with the job that I wanted to know as soon as she knew so that I could plan,
• but in fact she had tried to let me know early, in the classic indirect way, by phoning experienced caregiver number one to say she was worried about back pain,
• unfortunately caregiver number one figured she’d wait until the morning to phone me, but then slept in, since she’s not working until Monday evening,
• so I got the message direct from the source,
• leaving me two choices,
• take the day off to help out around the edges,
• or come home to find her and Jip both raving,
• the boss was OK with my proposal to telecommute today
• which would have worked fine
• if only the construction noise hadn’t started on the floor below us
• or if only the monsoon hadn’t arrived the moment I hung out the laundry to dry
• or if only the agency hadn’t called to say they were sending over the fifth new person in ten days for training because the back pain was looking like a permanent concern,
• at which point Jip screamed that she didn’t want to talk to anyone except me from now on because she was sick of having to be nice to all these unfamiliar voices…