Role Playing on the Alzheimer's Ward

"Now George, are you ready to play first string tomorrow?" questioned Coach Janblowski.

"Yeah Coach, I'm ready to go," I assured him.

"Good because Stevens is out and you're in as the new quarterback. And this Ohio team we're playing is a bone crushing bunch. So, I need you at your best tomorrow," spoke Mr. Janblowski. "Now, no tomfoolery tonight George, you hear me!" he continued.

"Yes sir," I assured.

"You get some sleep tonight, you hear!" urged Coach Don. "I'll be around to see if you guys are in your beds later and if I find that you're not in your bed and that you've been out carousing around, I'll bump you down to C- string, you hear! And we don't even have a C- string George. You got that!" emphasized Coach Don.

"I read you loud and clear Coach Janblowski," I smiled.

Coach Don was one of the most winning coaches to ever coach football for Iowa State. In fact in his den I had heard it said that there were over 30 trophies, some over three-feet high.

So, it was with great appreciation that I accepted the position as starting quarterback. The only thing was, my name is Ron, not George. And I'm fifty-years-old, a few years past my prime, especially to be going out for college football.

I interrupted Coach Don's flashback and offered him his pajamas. "Coach, are you about ready for bed?" I asked.

Don took his pj's and began undressing himself for bed. I then excused myself and went on to another resident on the lock-in dementia unit of our nursing home.

Years before Don had gotten into coaching he, himself, had been a quarterback for the Iowa team. He had set several record highs, including four-hundred and forty-seven yards gained during the year because he could pass the pigskin so accurately. Now, those same fingers that cradled the ball so long ago were twisted and arthritic. I would come back later to make sure he was able to button his pajamas.

Six years before this, Don had begun experiencing some signs of dementia. It had developed to the point that two years ago his wife finally decided that our Alzheimer's Ward was probably the best idea to keep Don from becoming lost wandering about in his own neighborhood.

He'd gotten disoriented several times already and his wife had actually had to call the police a couple times to locate him.

The dialogue coach and I had just had was a rerun of several others we'd had before. Sometimes, he thought I was his assistant coach and he'd send me to check that

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