Not exactly standup fodder, but...

Spent a long weekend in Wisconsin tending to a dying aunt and dementia-ridden uncle, which will never be a lead-in to a successful joke. Thing is, despite the gravity of the situation, my aunt found humor in much of what was going on, and while she couldn't laugh (her remaining lung is what's failing her), she was causing mirth among her family, friends and health care workers while I was there. For example:

When the hospice nurse told that she was about to get a nebulizer treatment, she responded, "Oh, goody!" Her next-door neighbor (and dear friend) who was in the room said, "Really? You like these treatments?" To this, my aunt replied with an eye roll and what could only be called a growl. The neighbor laughed and said, "Oh, you're being sarcastic. You'd think after all of these years I would have known that!"

Sarcasm has long been a forte of this aunt, but her sharp wit has also long been tempered by incredible sweetness. She was always very generous to friends and family, and with all of the helpful people in her home this weekend, I have a lot more faith in the concept of karma. She also spent a lot of what little breath she had left on instructions as to the health and well-being of other people. She asked visitors more than once if they were cold--not because she was, but because she was worried that they were. She also worried about her husband, and gave me the unenviable task of asking him if he'd been tending to his business. (You haven't lived until you've approached your 80-something uncle and said, "Uncle, I hope you don't mind, but Auntie was wondering if you've been to the bathroom....")

Of course, this hasn't all been a Hallmark movie for my aunt. She went without oxygen at home for a very long time because of some ridiculous Medicare requirements that required her to go the ER on a regular basis for oxygen until she was practically blue. Where is the sense in that? It has to be cheaper to have an oxygen tank at home than to use the ER to breathe, doesn't it?

And then there was the "Angel" recommended by the hospice who was going to spend the night at their house until the end. Well, this gal not only smoked on a regular basis (great for someone working with a lung patient, don't you think?), but she didn't just smoke cigarettes and--this is the clincher--she was a born-again recovering alcoholic who cautioned my aunt of the damnation that awaits her if she doesn't [fill-in-the-blank]. Yes, the hospice hooked my aunt up with a pothead preacher.....

My aunt was never one to suffer fools or fundamentalists gladly, so this person presented a unique challenge, shall we say. I wasn't at their house during this episode, but the "Angel" only spent one night at the house, and relatives and friends have been filling in for the rest of the time.

Another funny (to me, I'm not well in the noggin', you know) episode was what she said on occasion. After a long silence, she woke up and told my cousin she had to use the commode before they came to pick her up. Who "they" were was unclear, but where she was going was fairly plain, and my cousin and I were both amused that they suggested she approach the Hereafter with an empty bladder. How very tidy of them!

She also woke with a start and started feeling her head--apparently, "they" were trying to take her hair. Why, I don't know, but "they" were much with her over the weekend, and I think she was being eased over to whatever or wherever is next by these people, even if they had a slightly bizarre set of priorities....

There's not much more to report, but I am very, very glad I made this trip. I have not spent this much time with my aunt and uncle in recent memory, and I felt honored--privileged, even--to be able to spend a portion of my aunt's last days with her. (She's still alive, but not expected to make it through the night.)

On other fronts, it dawned on me this weekend that while the Northeast has the f-bomb, the Midwest drops the "crap" bomb when circumstances warrant. Good thing for me, for "crap" is a workplace-approved term at Big Company--and at my aunt and uncle's house, it turns out.