Assisted Living...
Today I visited an Assisted Living facility. I won't go into the reasons for my visit, but it had a pretty big impact.
Assisted Living is different than a nursing home; the residents are more independent, yet when I walked through the front door, the distinction was lost on me. It looked like a nursing home. But yet wasn't classified as one. I guess the levels of care are more minimal; the assumption is the residents are much more self sufficient, but yet not enough so to be able to continue living in their home.
A very, very clear and incredibly forceful thought went through my mind as I entered the facility and looked at the residents sitting in the reception area.
My mother will never be one of those people. For as long as I possibly can, if she needs care, I will take care of her in my home.
I have no doubt that the residents are well taken care of. But they are not at home; they are not with a family member. At least at this level, where independence is still presumed (and necessary) isn't there a family member who could care for them? I know that probably in some cases the answer is "no", but I suspect in other cases there may be an option, but for various reasons it is not pursued.
I wondered about their stories...what had life dealt them? How long had they been there? How much of the decision to move in was theirs? What about the elderly woman who had shared a room with her husband, but he needed to go to a more involved nursing facility and now she didn't know if he would return or not? What about visitors? Wouldn't family time be more meaningful than bingo in the rec room?
There were far more questions that swirled through my head than there were answers. But one answer that was evident was that if and when the time comes that my mom needs to transition out of the apartment in New York City, (whether my dad is at the same stage or not) she will come to live with us and we will do whatever we need to to support her and take care of her.
Assisted Living is different than a nursing home; the residents are more independent, yet when I walked through the front door, the distinction was lost on me. It looked like a nursing home. But yet wasn't classified as one. I guess the levels of care are more minimal; the assumption is the residents are much more self sufficient, but yet not enough so to be able to continue living in their home.
A very, very clear and incredibly forceful thought went through my mind as I entered the facility and looked at the residents sitting in the reception area.
My mother will never be one of those people. For as long as I possibly can, if she needs care, I will take care of her in my home.
I have no doubt that the residents are well taken care of. But they are not at home; they are not with a family member. At least at this level, where independence is still presumed (and necessary) isn't there a family member who could care for them? I know that probably in some cases the answer is "no", but I suspect in other cases there may be an option, but for various reasons it is not pursued.
I wondered about their stories...what had life dealt them? How long had they been there? How much of the decision to move in was theirs? What about the elderly woman who had shared a room with her husband, but he needed to go to a more involved nursing facility and now she didn't know if he would return or not? What about visitors? Wouldn't family time be more meaningful than bingo in the rec room?
There were far more questions that swirled through my head than there were answers. But one answer that was evident was that if and when the time comes that my mom needs to transition out of the apartment in New York City, (whether my dad is at the same stage or not) she will come to live with us and we will do whatever we need to to support her and take care of her.
Labels: Assisted Living, independence
posted by www.kathypride.com at
10:26 PM
2 Comments:
Here's a different perspective. Both my grandmothers lived the last 5 years of their lives in an excellent facility near my parents' home, and in the same town both of them had lived until that point. That point, for both of them, was nearly setting the house on fire because they forgot that they had something on the stove. Both were scared of the possibilities of such forgetfulness and both knew it was time for assisted living.
The facility where the lived had a spectrum of care from apartments to the end-of-life care for the completely bed-ridden. They both had many friends at the same facility and my folks visited every day. They were still included in every family event; it just meant that someone had to go get them, help them in and out of the car (nurses available, if needed) and then into our house, and return them. My parents often dined with them when visiting and it was very social with all my grandmothers' friends.
I always found it a cheery place (yes, there were plenty of drooling farting people parked in wheel chairs, but they were in areas where they had people around them. The people, strangers or family, would stop and talk to them). The nurses were wonderful. My mother played hymns on the piano every Sunday for whoever wanted to listen, and sometimes sing. The world came to them, whereas they used to go to it. There were Sunday services held there, beauty parlor/barbershop facilities, nature walks (or rides).
Each room was allowed to put up birdfeeders or whatever outside the window. The residents had their own furniture and paintings and photos and afgans and clothes and books (an option, not a requirement -- inotherwords, the home had furniture if the resident had none). There was respect, privacy, and most of all, love.
Both my parents wanted to end their days there if it ever came to that. For my father, it didn't, but it may for my mother.
Maybe you should visit a couple more before deciding anything permanent. Having your mom in good facility wouldn't mean she had no family to love her. It would mean her family wouldn't have to worry about her.
gotta go,
love,
Katy
Thanks, Katy for your comment. I think I just had a close encounter of the uncomfortable kind with my parent's mortality and I wasn't quite ready for it. One of the reasons I don't think my mom would do well in an assisted living situation is she doesn't have any friends, (well, maybe one) except for me and I'm her daughter, and my dad, and we all drive each other nuts, but love eachother all the same. I don't see her engaging in any of the typical activities, either. I must say, though, that she does talk about how much she enjoys visiting the senior center in NYC for her reduced cost lunch. It gets her out, she enjoys the meal, has met one friend there and it is something to do. But I just can't picture her in an AL situation.
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