My parents have been married 66 years and still reside in the same community east of the Cascades where I was raised. They have chosen to remain in their one level condominium without the benefits a continuing care retirement community (CCRC) would offer. The reassurance provided adult children when their parents live in a CCRC has never been as glaring as it is now as my two siblings and I take turns navigating between the condo where my Father stays and the skilled nursing rehabilitation center where my Mother currently has been admitted. It is emotionally draining on everyone. My mother is the love of my father’s life and this has been most difficult for him. My mother’s first night in rehab was spent in pain – the first uncomfortable night since she left the hospital following a four day stay. This first night she lay in pain and called out for assistance. Her call light went unanswered. In desperation she called my father who after several attempts was finally able to get through to a real person at the facility. Understandably, he was not a happy man when the aide finally answered the phone. Fortunately, for my mother, he was present to advocate on her behalf making me wonder how people manage who have no one. Do they suffer in silence? Post-surgical with a lazy gastro-intestinal track my mother has been given food that is difficult for a healthy individual to digest, such as, cole slaw, fried fish burgers, french fries and bologna sandwiches. I am stunned, sad and overwhelmed. It will be necessary to augment her meals as well as cooking for my father. Schlepping food back and forth becomes our new ritual. My mother asks me “how difficult would it be for this place to serve a nice baked potato?” her comfort food. I reassure her I will bring one a bit later with all the condiments on the side – she sighs with satisfaction. An orange/vanilla Popsicle I brought her momentarily hits the spot and inspires her to go down memory lane sharing her recollection of the sherbet cups served one time per year in school. At this point the reader may be asking why we don’t spring her from this place – options are not plentiful where my parents live and it is not possible. We find ourselves between a rock and hard place. Meanwhile, my mother endures angry fluorescent lighting, tired hospital beds, stiff/crunchy linens and salty/fatty high-carbohydrate food. She is a trooper. The Administrator of this facility listens and nods when we express our concerns– he seems to understand or at least gives the impression. We do not want to alienate him or the team. There are some fine providers within this facility and they genuinely care about my mother’s progress – they enable us to be hopeful and we are grateful for their compassion. It is a balancing act. There will be a care conference and all will be resolved or at least this is what he hopes we will believe. We know better than this and realize it will take a village to revolt and demand better before there is a facility offering superb and compassionate care. My sweet little hometown does not have the infrastructure in place for older adults or any individual requiring rehabilitation – a sad yet true reality. I see residents who look to be about my age and who are most likely rehabbing from an orthopedic injury. I close my eyes and try to imagine myself as a patient and my stomach sinks. As a single woman who lives on the west side of the mountains with very little family I am well aware that it could be me in one of these beds. I cringe at the thought and force my mind to drift elsewhere. There are many components which contribute to healing; some of the obvious ones are of course: controlled pain, rest, healthy food, a clean environment and competent therapies. However, equally important are: spiritual & compassionate care, aesthetically pleasing surroundings, private rooms which include a shower, communal places which inspire engagement, optimism and hope. I am fortunate my mother is resilient with a wry sense of humor – she subscribes to the philosophy that life is like a pie and this is merely a diminutive slice – poof and it will be over. She laughs as she describes her tray of food to me over the phone and refuses to be a victim. She is made of tough stuff and has weathered many a storm – this too shall pass. The residents of Wesley Homes Des Moines and our local community are so fortunate to have a superb skilled nursing and rehabilitation center. Additionally, the residents of Wesley Homes Lea Hill and the South Sound will soon be the recipients of a much needed new skilled nursing and rehabilitation center. Trust me, it is an integral component in the continuum of care and a gift one gives oneself and one’s children. I know our society can do better, and my eyes, although previously open to this deficit in our health care system, are now fully open – bulging open. It is time to call my mother and listen as she tries to buoy her family over the latest debacle. Deep breath…
