The Good, The Bad & The Ugly

I often joke that living in a nursing home is like being at a resort.... the last resort!  It's probably safe to say that most people never expect to end up in a nursing home, and most of the residents don't want to be here.  I came here because I couldn't live by myself anymore.  When I fell in my apartment and couldn't reach the phone, I knew it was time.  Now, I get all the help I need, and I feel safe here. 

But along with the good comes the bad.  Nursing homes have plenty of both. 

Someone once told me nursing home care is a lot like herding cattle.  The aides have to rush around to get everyone up and dressed, prod them down to the dining room for breakfast, poke food and meds down everybody, then corral everyone back to their rooms.  The cycle is repeated at lunchtime and again at supper.  It sounds so impersonal, but that's the system.

Then, there's the heartwarming moments when you see a staff member walking hand-in-hand with one of the residents in the hall.  It takes a special kind of person to do this kind of work, and the nurses and aides are a caring, hard-working bunch.  They've become like a second family to me.  The aides each have their own nickname for me.  I'll answer to "Eli," "Elijah," "'Topher" (short for Christopher) and "Buttercup."   I have names for them, too, but I better not print them.
 
The biggest problem is there's not enough staff.  There's usually one nurse and two aides (if you're lucky) for each shift.  That means I sometimes have to wait 30 to 45 minutes for the aides to transfer me.  The aides do the best they can, but they're just spread too thin.

Things were pretty rough at first, but it has gotten better over time as I learn their routine, and they learn mine.  I've learned you have to pick your fights.  While I was in rehab, I was used to sleeping until 8 or 8:30.    When I came here, they insisted that I get up with everyone else.  They literally had to drag me out of bed at 6:30 a.m. for breakfast at 7.   Now, I enjoy getting up early.  Breakfast is usually the best meal of the day (How hard is it to mess up eggs and bacon?).  After breakfast, we sit around the tables while our activities director reads the newspaper to us, and we talk about the news of the day.  I'm glad they made me get up for breakfast.

But I stood my ground when they said I couldn't ride my scooter to church by myself.  I protested.  My old apartment is just down the street from the nursing home.  I've been riding my scooter to church for a long time, and I wasn't about to stop now!  I can see the church from the nursing home parking lot, so it's less than a mile.  I told them they could follow me if they wanted, but I WAS going to ride.  They finally agreed.  Now, I not only ride to church but I ride everywhere.  I enjoy my rides to the park or to a nearby shopping center.

All in all, I have the best of both worlds.  I have all the help I need, plus I have the freedom to still get out on my own to take a ride if I want.  I'm so blessed!  It may not be the ideal situation, but I'm thankful I have this place.  I'm happy.  I'm settled.  I'm home.