After my husband broke his shoulder, we were pretty much home bound for about two months. Frequent visits to the orthopedic surgeon were about the extent of our excitement. Feeling a little better, he suggested he would like to take a trip to the store. It was November and the hustle and bustle of the holiday shopping did not seem like a jolly time to get out in those crowds.
After the first of the year turned out to be a good time for an outing. A grocery store was close by, and a good place to see how he would fare. He managed to use the affected hand to push the cart, and get into the store. Not being sure he could manipulate the controls on the motorized cart, it was worth a try. After positioning himself in the cart, we reviewed the forward and backward levers for his use. He was no more in the cart, we turned our heads, he was off, and disappeared around a corner. Fortunately, I had a caregiver with me that was able to keep up with his pace.
The affected hand that could hardly manipulate a utensil, or a toothbrush, was now able to push the levers to freedom. After his fall, he was not able to drive the car. Now he was in control. He was in control of the steering, the brakes, and where he was going to go. Fortunately, he kept his speed where no one was harmed, and no displays were toppled over.
As the caregiver frantically watched my husband disappear corner after corner, I was able to do my grocery shopping. When I finished, I had difficulty locating either one of them. When I finally approached my husband I told him I was through shopping, and asked if he was ready to go home. The answer was an emphatic No. Twice I had to return the frozen vegetables to the freezer lest they begin to thaw even before we checked out.
Never underestimate the power of the simple things in life. A motorized cart, in a local store, gave an 84 year old man freedom after suffering a wicked fall. and a broken shoulder.
Thursday, February 26, 2015
Monday, February 23, 2015
This really BUGS me!
This really BUGS me! This numbers game with your age.
Every time you go to the doctor, urgent care, or emergency room, one of the first things you are asked is your date of birth. They want the reply to be in numbers, like maybe 9-2-35. When you answer it, they say, "Great, you remember your age."
But, do you? We have repeated those numbers for decades. But do people remember what they mean?
Take time out of your busy day and ask several elderly persons what those numbers mean. I did, and I was shocked at what I learned. "What does the 9 mean?" Reply, "I don't know." "What does the 2 mean?" "I don't know." What does the 35 mean?" "I don't know." "Do you have any idea how old you are?" "No".
So I need your help. Is it just me that finds a problem with this? If it is, I can live with it. If there is a bigger problem with this, maybe we need to take a second look.
Thanks.
Every time you go to the doctor, urgent care, or emergency room, one of the first things you are asked is your date of birth. They want the reply to be in numbers, like maybe 9-2-35. When you answer it, they say, "Great, you remember your age."
But, do you? We have repeated those numbers for decades. But do people remember what they mean?
Take time out of your busy day and ask several elderly persons what those numbers mean. I did, and I was shocked at what I learned. "What does the 9 mean?" Reply, "I don't know." "What does the 2 mean?" "I don't know." What does the 35 mean?" "I don't know." "Do you have any idea how old you are?" "No".
So I need your help. Is it just me that finds a problem with this? If it is, I can live with it. If there is a bigger problem with this, maybe we need to take a second look.
Thanks.
"There's no place like home, there's no place like home."
"There's no place like home, there's no place like home." How many times have we heard that, and picture Dorothy clicking the heels of her red shoes. There is truth to that statement until your home is no longer compatible. Every effort should be made to enable elderly people to remain in their homes. More research needs to be done to make changes so they can remain there.
However, the time comes when the home is no longer compatible. At this point, especially when one of the spouses is left by themselves, some changes may have to be made.
Unfortunately, the connotation of a nursing home, or assisted living facility has been anything but delightful. Seniors today recall visiting their parents in small, dark, undecorated rooms. But that has changed.
If you are facing the dilemma of a loving parent not wanting to give up their home, there is one option that seems to be successful. Take them to visit one of the homes in your area. Facilities built for the elderly today are usually beautiful, airy, spacious, offer delightful entertainment, and many other amenities.
A man who in his 90's was emphatic that he did not want to leave his home. Family members convinced him to visit one of the homes in their area. He fell in love with the place immediately, moved within four days, is happy, and says it is like living on a cruise ship, not to mention the fact that all the attention he is getting from the nurses is making him feel younger. An elderly lady, not wanting to leave her home, after moving, said it was like living in a dorm. Another comment I heard from both of them was "I wish I had moved here sooner."
Even though persons do not want to leave their homes, sometimes they don't know what they are missing out on. Finances are often a problem, but there are many programs out there that offer assistance. One needs to consider when a facility would be more compatible than their home.
However, the time comes when the home is no longer compatible. At this point, especially when one of the spouses is left by themselves, some changes may have to be made.
Unfortunately, the connotation of a nursing home, or assisted living facility has been anything but delightful. Seniors today recall visiting their parents in small, dark, undecorated rooms. But that has changed.
If you are facing the dilemma of a loving parent not wanting to give up their home, there is one option that seems to be successful. Take them to visit one of the homes in your area. Facilities built for the elderly today are usually beautiful, airy, spacious, offer delightful entertainment, and many other amenities.
A man who in his 90's was emphatic that he did not want to leave his home. Family members convinced him to visit one of the homes in their area. He fell in love with the place immediately, moved within four days, is happy, and says it is like living on a cruise ship, not to mention the fact that all the attention he is getting from the nurses is making him feel younger. An elderly lady, not wanting to leave her home, after moving, said it was like living in a dorm. Another comment I heard from both of them was "I wish I had moved here sooner."
Even though persons do not want to leave their homes, sometimes they don't know what they are missing out on. Finances are often a problem, but there are many programs out there that offer assistance. One needs to consider when a facility would be more compatible than their home.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
What To Do?
Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be married to one person, and engaged to another at the same time?
Along with the aging process, and accumulated health problems, there is the possibility of suffering a stroke, an interruption of the blood supply to the brain. I had the unique opportunity of being a co-founder, and then served as administrator of a facility that provided recreational therapy to stroke survivors. Often left to fend for themselves with family members at work, it was a place where they could feel comfortable with others in the same situation, and help them in their efforts to regain independence, through various speech, and learning programs.
The question was often asked, "Is there life after stroke?" In the thirteen years as administrator I witnessed this every day, that there is, and can be life after stroke. One of my favorite stories to come out of my experiences is the story of Rita and Mike. Rita was left to live with her mom after her husband divorced her after the stroke. She also lost her ability to speak. She enjoyed coming to the facility daily, and her favorite activity was playing rummytile. Shortly after her arrival, and after much coaxing from his wife, a fellow by the name of Mike began attending. It was difficult for Mike to make the adjustment from being his own boss, to attending a rehabilitation facility. He soon learned to adjust to the fact that he needed rehabilitation. While playing rummytile Rita and Mike formed an attachment, being able to communicate in spite of her speech loss. Having lost the use of his right arm prohibited Mike from returning to his work, a truck driver. Little by little they became better acquainted, eventually becoming romantically involved.
To complicate matters, they were not of the same social standing, which was an irritation to Rita's highly sophisticated mom. Then to everyone's surprise, Mike presented Rita with a diamond ring. About six months later, Mike suffered a more debilitating stroke. As he lay in his hospital bed, his question to me was, "What am I going to do, I am married to one, and engaged to another?" Unfortunately, his condition worsened which caused him to have to return home to his wife. Rita continued her days playing rummytile with other stroke survivors. So, yes, there is life after stroke. And where there is life, there is hope.
The question was often asked, "Is there life after stroke?" In the thirteen years as administrator I witnessed this every day, that there is, and can be life after stroke. One of my favorite stories to come out of my experiences is the story of Rita and Mike. Rita was left to live with her mom after her husband divorced her after the stroke. She also lost her ability to speak. She enjoyed coming to the facility daily, and her favorite activity was playing rummytile. Shortly after her arrival, and after much coaxing from his wife, a fellow by the name of Mike began attending. It was difficult for Mike to make the adjustment from being his own boss, to attending a rehabilitation facility. He soon learned to adjust to the fact that he needed rehabilitation. While playing rummytile Rita and Mike formed an attachment, being able to communicate in spite of her speech loss. Having lost the use of his right arm prohibited Mike from returning to his work, a truck driver. Little by little they became better acquainted, eventually becoming romantically involved.
To complicate matters, they were not of the same social standing, which was an irritation to Rita's highly sophisticated mom. Then to everyone's surprise, Mike presented Rita with a diamond ring. About six months later, Mike suffered a more debilitating stroke. As he lay in his hospital bed, his question to me was, "What am I going to do, I am married to one, and engaged to another?" Unfortunately, his condition worsened which caused him to have to return home to his wife. Rita continued her days playing rummytile with other stroke survivors. So, yes, there is life after stroke. And where there is life, there is hope.
Friday, February 6, 2015
Three months ago my husband fell and broke his shoulder. After spending a week in a nursing home, we were given one day's notice that medicare would not pay for any more days because they felt he was not getting enough therapy there. Having little time to make any decisions, we put our trust in a representative from our Health Group. Opting for 24/7 care in our home, he put us in touch with a Board and Care facility that could provide the service we needed.
We were very fortunate to receive good health care with professional caregivers. But this is the frightening thing. The first caregiver we had made the remark that this was his first assignment where there was a mate in the house. And I soon learned that even though we were in good hands, some of the things would have been passed by had I not been there to supervise. As things progressed we no longer needed 24/7, so we hired a caregiver to spend 8 hours a night.
The facility assured me that the caregiver would stay awake all night, and in the morning would be able to administer my husband's insulin shot. Feeling assured, and confident, I went and had a good night's sleep. In the morning my husband relayed to me that when he went out to get a drink of water in the middle of the night the caregiver was sprawled out on the couch, sound asleep. In the morning when I asked her to administer the insulin shot, she said she did not know how. She had to call someone to tell her how to test his blood sugar. Then when I called the owner of the facility and told him what had happened, he said he was not aware that she could not do the insulin, and that she would sleep on the job. Yet, the morning before he sat at our dining room table and assured us she could do the job.
What can we do? We entrust our loved ones to complete strangers. And, invariably, as the caregiver mentioned, there is no mate around to supervise. We need to be aware that these things happen. And we need to speak up. Once we are aware that these things happen we can be more vocal, and perhaps facilities will be held more responsible. So, SENIORS BEWARE
We were very fortunate to receive good health care with professional caregivers. But this is the frightening thing. The first caregiver we had made the remark that this was his first assignment where there was a mate in the house. And I soon learned that even though we were in good hands, some of the things would have been passed by had I not been there to supervise. As things progressed we no longer needed 24/7, so we hired a caregiver to spend 8 hours a night.
The facility assured me that the caregiver would stay awake all night, and in the morning would be able to administer my husband's insulin shot. Feeling assured, and confident, I went and had a good night's sleep. In the morning my husband relayed to me that when he went out to get a drink of water in the middle of the night the caregiver was sprawled out on the couch, sound asleep. In the morning when I asked her to administer the insulin shot, she said she did not know how. She had to call someone to tell her how to test his blood sugar. Then when I called the owner of the facility and told him what had happened, he said he was not aware that she could not do the insulin, and that she would sleep on the job. Yet, the morning before he sat at our dining room table and assured us she could do the job.
What can we do? We entrust our loved ones to complete strangers. And, invariably, as the caregiver mentioned, there is no mate around to supervise. We need to be aware that these things happen. And we need to speak up. Once we are aware that these things happen we can be more vocal, and perhaps facilities will be held more responsible. So, SENIORS BEWARE
Thursday, February 5, 2015
The Game of Aging.
Aging spelled backwards is Ginga. Ginga is a funny word, but there is nothing funny about aging. In fact the game of aging is much like the game Jenga, a table game that consists of many rectangular blocks. Generally played with two players, you can also go it alone. The object of the game is to stack as many blocks as you can without allowing the stack to topple over. As you place the blocks in the tower you do so with such precision, not allowing yourself to touch the other blocks lest the entire tower falls.
When you become aged, you think back about all the blocks that you placed in a tower to keep your tower from falling over, and ending the game. You spend your entire life deciding where to place the blocks in your life so the result will be a stable structure. Sometimes it takes a while to decide where to place the next block, or in what order to place the block. As you get older, and your tower gets taller, you pride yourself on having gone so far without a mishap. Then all of a sudden one day you aim to place that last block, it hits another one, and your tower is in shambles.
What has happened? All of a sudden you have reached the age where you are aged, aging, or elderly. All of the blocks that had been so precisely placed, are in a heap. It is hard to determine if the tower began to fall from the top or the bottom.
At this point, you need to depend on someone to take your hand, and lead you through the pile of wooden blocks, and guide you so you will not fall. That someone is not there to help rebuild your tower, because it is too late, but to help you make sense of what made you what you once were.
Fortunately, there are people who devote their lives to helping you make sense of what has happened, and what is happening. Part of the tower construction will remain with you forever, but parts will be lost forever, and that is the part that is difficult to deal with. Life is pretty much a game anyway, sometimes you win, and sometimes you lose, but as long as we have CAREGIVERS, people who really CARE, and GIVE what they can to help us pick up the pieces, and make life more comfortable, this should give us comfort. And whether we wish to accept the fact or not, the fact remains that our towers will collapse.
And there is comfort in knowing that you do not have to build another tower, why not settle for a sandbox, and do not give up hope. Every day an elderly man passes by our house pushing his rollator (the fancy walker with a seat). He will park the rollator for about 10 minutes, rest on the seat, and then continue to proceed slowly up the hill pushing the rollator. There is comfort in knowing that aging people do not give up.
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