When trust takes a turn
Survival’s upper echelon includes the category “caregiver.”
Savvy creatures.
They often start small, but — like the lowly caterpillar that grows and spreads its butterfly wings — they can osmose into a form that flits, grows and takes over.
Dr. Ruth just had a minor stroke. The hospital’s running tests.
Affected was the left side of her brain which controls the right side, like the arm’s movement.
Medics seem confident with therapy treatment, which starts soon.
She’ll regain most strength. She hasn’t her hearing aids, so don’t call.
Awake, she is alert but does not know how to text.
A caregiver’s first rung is lower level — driver, butler, valet, housekeeper, maid, nurse, assistant. We speak big-time. Employers often have big wallets.
Billionaire heiress Doris Duke — Duke University, Duke tobacco — passed away at 80. Homes everywhere — Hawaii, Newport, Beverly Hills, New York. Companion? A butler who trickled into a confidante, keeper of the flame, the phone, the friends — the caregiver.
Bernard Lafferty, Irish, 51. Out of rehab. Broke.
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