I am a certified nursing assistant, CNA for short. I have been attending the needs of the elderly for over five years now and I have seen some of the strangest behavior from the near dying. There is one instance that I can never truly explain. I felt like some of you might be able to shed some light on the matter, so I took the time to write down my experience. If you have any idea of what I might be dealing with, please let me know. I am currently unable to find an answer and I am unsure if I should keep this creepy bird.
Madeline Wright was ninety-two years old. I can honestly say that she was the sweetest old lady I had ever met. She rarely had visitors but every Tuesday she would receive a package full of peanut butter cookies. The package had no return address and Madeline would claim they came from her grandson. Most of our patients would gladly consume any baked goods that were sent but Madeline saved these particular treats for her pet. We had a policy about small pets, that as long as they could be contained within the room they were allowed. Madeline had a Macaw named Pete.
Almost everyday when I would make my rounds Madeline would be sitting by the window, sliding small pieces of cookie through the cage. Pete would nibble them and squawk in appreciation. I would check the room for anything that needed immediate attention, speak with Madeline to make sure she did not need anything and exit soon after. She would watch with her little smile as I left and as soon as I passed through the door she would begin to whisper to Pete. The routine was so comforting but I always wondered what the two of them talked about.
Christmas came and most of our residents were congregating in the common room. They played games and exchanged gifts. We passed out Christmas cookies and non-alcoholic egg nog. It was the best party we could provide, complete with cheesy Christmas music. I stood among the elderly, admiring the freshly decorated tree and I realized that Madeline had not attended our little get together. I made it a point to check on her everyday, even if it was not my duty for the day. So, I decided to take a trip down the second hall and made my way to her room.
Madeline sat in the dimly lit room by Pete’s cage. She was speaking to the bird but quickly fell quiet when I entered. She gave me that same sweet smile and asked how I was doing. I assured her I was fine and I asked why she was not participating in the festivities. I learned that her late husband had passed during the Christmas season and the celebration only reminded her of that fact. I felt so horrible at the thought and decided to spend the rest of my night keeping her company. That was the first night I was introduced to Pete formally.
This little lady had developed a true friendship with her bird. They knew everything about each other and Pete had a personality that shined when you engaged him. I could ask him anything about Madeline and learn exactly what I needed to know. I listened to full stories about Madeline’s history, including an embarrassing memory that involved Madeline losing her trousers on a trip to the river. Madeline blushed as Pete retold the story and I tried to hold back my laughter. It was the most enjoyable night of my career and I wish I could have had more of those.
Madeline passed shortly after New Years. I know I should not have watched her being wheeled out by the paramedics but since she had no family I felt she needed someone. I would be lying if I said I did not cry. It was the hardest part of my job. I hated seeing our patients die and each time it became a little harder. When the room was empty it was my job to clean it and remove any personal items that remained. My eyes immediately fell on Pete’s cage. He stood perched on his swing and stared at me. His eyes seemed cloudy and full of remorse. I could tell he felt the loss even more than I did.
Pete took residence in our faculty lounge. My fellow nurses took turns speaking with him and feeding him. All of them enjoyed the constant reminder of Madeline’s life but some of them made comments about strange stories the bird would tell. I chalked it up to idle rumors and gossip until I heard one of them myself. I was grabbing a cup of coffee while on a late shift and Pete turned to me to tell me that I should check room 204. I found it odd that he even knew how to say those words and dismissed it as something he might have picked up from Madeline.
I began my rounds and an announcement played through our intercom system asking for emergency medical attention to none other than room 204. The coincidence piqued my curiosity, so I made my way to that room. Mr. Perkins had always been of the jovial nature and most of our staff had enjoyed his company. He was a jokester and I was sure it was some new prank he had come up with. When I entered the doorway I realized that this was far more than that. Mr. Perkins was seizing and his body shook violently. Several of the nursing staff attempted to stabilize but within minutes his body fell still. Mr. Perkins was pronounced dead five minutes later.
My emotions ran wild and I needed to compose myself. I found my way back to the break room and took a seat with my cup of coffee. My hands trembled as I took a sip and tried to push back my tears. I sat thinking of how terrible it must be to grow old and be forgotten in a place like this. All of this swam in my head as I heard Pete squawk from the corner of the room and I remembered what he had said to me. I stood slowly, leaving my coffee on the table. I approached his cage and asked if he knew that Mr. Perkins was going to die. I received a simple “Yes”, as a reply.
I stared at the bright blues and yellows of his feathers and stared into his dark beady eyes. His tongue licked at his beak as if hungry, so I dug through our bag of bird seed to feed him. The pebbles plopped to the bottom of the cage but Pete seemed uninterested in them. He simply stared at me and I could only wonder what he wanted. I thought to question further but I was afraid of the answer I might receive. I dug through Madeline’s uncollected belongings to find a few remaining peanut butter cookies. I returned to the cage, crumbled them into tiny pieces and passed them through the bars. Pete gobbled the crumbs up and gave me an excited, “Thank you.”
The following day a letter was presented to me by my employer. There was no return address or any identifying information. She simply told me that the letter had been left at the front desk and had been asked to be delivered to me personally. I found my way back to the break room and carefully opened the letter. Inside I found the scribblings of the late Madeline Wright. Apparently she had written the letter after our Christmas together. She had been so moved by my kindness that she wanted to gift me her favorite possession, her bird Pete. I read over the letter multiple times and looked back at the tiny cage. The bird fluttered its wings and I stood to great him. I pulled out another cookie and fed it to him.
That night I brought Pete home. If he was legally mine I wanted to personally take care of him. I cleared off a space on an end table within my sitting room. The cage fit nicely and it would be the first thing I saw when I entered in the evening. I knew it would be the perfect place for Pete and I found myself sitting by him and carrying on a conversation. It was interesting having a bird ask me questions about my life and commenting on the events. I found myself laughing at the quirky comments that Pete would come up with. When the hour became late I bid the bird goodnight and headed for my bedroom. A squawk caused me to pause and turn back to the cage, Pete stared straight at me and said, “Room 103.”
When I arrived at work the next day I immediately visited room 103. Deloris Wilson sat on her bed talking with her daughter. The daughter turned to me and asked if her mother had been receiving her daily medication. I stammered as I explained that I was not her regular nurse but promised I would have her attendant come by to speak to her. The two of them were very confused but I had seen that Mrs. Wilson was fine. I left the room and stepped back to the nurses' station and relayed the message that Mrs. Wilson’s daughter had questions for her attending nurse. I started my rounds and let the eerie feeling of what Pete had said the night before fade away.
My shift was almost over when the announcement came for emergency assistance. I did not need to know the number before I started running to 103. When I arrived the attending nurse stopped me before I entered, she had tears in her eyes. I knew the result but I asked anyway. Mrs. Wilson had experienced a massive heart attack and they were unable to resuscitate. I instinctively wrapped my arms around the woman, rubbing her back and trying to console her. The entire time my mind went back to Pete and the last thing he said to me.
When I arrived home I went straight to my kitchen. Pete watched as I passed but made no comment. I grabbed the ingredients from the cupboard and began baking. I was tired and ready for bed but I wanted to get these cookies done before I found rest. An hour and a half later I pulled a tray of freshly baked peanut butter cookies from my oven. I let them cool and broke them in tiny pieces. I returned to my sitting room and fed Pete. He took two cookies down quickly and I could swear he smiled at me, if birds can smile. I made my way to bed, still thinking of the events of the day.
The main reason I am writing this is I think the bird living in my house can tell when someone will die. That fact is enough to scare anyway and I am not sure how to handle it. I woke this morning and prepared for work. I made my cup of coffee and I made my way to Pete’s cage. I had made a routine of giving him a cookie before leaving for work. He quickly ate the crumbs I offered and when I went to exit my front door he gave a loud squawk again. It caused me to turn and look to him, as usual. He stared at me for a moment, my hand still resting on the doorknob. His words have caused me to return to my room and write this all down. I don’t know how long I need to wait but Pete’s exact words were, “Don’t leave the house.”