Imagine visiting your dad in a nursing home. The woman in a nearby room is alone and unable to fend for herself. Get past the sights and smells of the place and into what she might be feeling. Here’s one woman’s experience, in her own words:
PLEASE…I’M HERE…SOMEBODY…. I know you’re visiting your father in the next room, but I’ve called out a dozen times for a blanket. You must have heard. Please get someone for me. Last week I was so thirsty, but nobody would answer my call button, and the woman visiting her friend in the other bed became irritated with me and closed the curtain between us. This morning I heard the laughing—again—one aide mimicking my slurred speech, the other calling out my daughter’s name like I do when I really get feeling down. I’m old, but I’m not deaf or stupid. I’ve been in this place for so many months, I’m less than a piece of furniture. If you tell someone in charge and wait to be sure something is done, then I’d be so grateful. No, it won’t get you in trouble, but, chances are, nobody will even think about treating your dad the way they’re treating me. Please… somebody…please.
Then, take a minute to give her a smile or ask if she’d like you to get someone to help her. You may be the only bright spot in her week. And watching out for other people’s parents shows honor and respect for our own.
I don’t visit nursing homes very often, but I remember when my mom was in one before her death in 2003; I didn’t really visit other people, but still I understand the loneliness of the elderly. Thank you for posting this; I hope when my time comes I will still be visited by my kids and grandkids.
Be careful what you wish for. It could be frequent visits from a grandkid’s spouse–a person you can’t stand. (You know me. I always look on the bright side.)