It’s been two & a half years since I’ve seen my eighty-eight-year-old grandmother. When I went to see her, I wasn’t even sure she would know me. She’s at a nursing facility, wheel chair bound. It is impossible to talk on the phone as her hearing is too impaired.
To my surprise, the sweet little soul did know me. Bound in her chair, she was rolled outside to sit with my family in a small garden area. It was the first time she met my son, who’s almost two, (born only one day after her birthday) and the second time she met my four-and-a-half-year-old daughter and my husband. Between kids and distance, visits have been no easy task.
My grandmother has accepted this facility is now her home, whether she likes it or not (those are her words). She sits all day like a “doof” (again, her words). She has horrible insomnia, which is common in older adults. She has never fully recovered from her knee surgery. Apparently, the therapists at the facility only work on hands, so she does not get any healing touch at all. This makes me wonder whether keeping patients like her in wheelchairs make them easier to care for, but I hate to assume the worst. Not being able to walk has taken great joy and autonomy from my grandmother. She also can’t see well, thanks to her macular degeneration.
This story is a sad story of declining health, with no improvement in sight. The facility stinks (literally). Since she has no mobility, they insist she wear adult diapers, another indignity and hardship. She doesn’t get changed on a regular basis, which breaks my heart. For the first time in two years, she had the pleasure of a hot shower, in contrast to the daily sponge baths that she hates. I’m sure it’s not the kind of life my grandmother imagined for herself.
There are a few bright spots. My aunt visits three times a week and grocery shops for her. Out of her four children, only my aunt lives close to her. She does love her popcorn, chips, and lobster.
My grandfather killed himself a couple years ago (he’d been divorced from my grandmother for decades). Apparently he didn’t want to be anyone’s burden physically or financially. His action was drastic, but getting old can definitely be sad, overwhelming, and lonely. No one really wants to be shoved away. There are so many people with no family or visitors in the many nursing homes across the country. My kids made so many people smile on our visit–the residents were happy to be acknowledged, to be seen if only for a moment. After all, they used to be fully functioning people before they found themselves in aging bodies that they no longer recognize. There are wonderful facilities that combine older folks and college students to stimulate both groups. As the saying goes “use it or lose it.” All facilities contain so many untold stories, so many lonely hearts, and so many stagnating minds. Taking time to recognize these older people can have a tremendous impact.
If there’s a nursing facility near you, you could be surprised at all the treasures and riches in the people sitting around waiting for a bit of attention, a kind ear to tell their stories, or just some acknowledgement that they exist and that they still matter. Life is precious, we all are!
Contributor
Acupuncturist, herbalist, Maya abdominal practitioner, and reflexologist Christina Morris is the founder of Element Natural Healing Arts. Writing about health and wellness gives her an outlet to express her care and concern for her beloved community. She believes everyone can achieve better health and happiness–emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually.