The Face of Dignity and other meaningless ramblingThere is none. Not after you reach certain age and health conditions. We can all pretend with merry smiles and fake words plastered on our lips, but... That won't change the face of reality. The reality of an old lady who undergone colectomy* whose bag for collecting bodily waste burst. So she was forced to l in her own bodily waste. That pungent smell was unbearable. The brown stains were covering her pink night gown she loved so much. Her bed was wet with urine. And she had to endure that for hours. Hours. As she rang the alarm bell, but nobody responded, because it was too much of a bother. Because going for a smoke was more important. Because drinking coffee was more important. Because everything was more important. Because the old lady was being sort of annoying before. What a wonderful excuse! Someone is annoying, so we let them be in their own shit for hours. Unable to help themselves. And the thing that perhaps hit me the hardest? As I finally got into the room, she wasn'