The Process

It has been extremely cold here in Virginia over the past few weeks, which is abnormal for us. Snow and ice pelted the area over the weekend, leaving us to slip and slide on highways and sidewalks. I fell victim to a patch of black ice Tuesday night which landed me in a knee brace. I was over visiting my neighbor who lives on a slight hill. As I was leaving, I gracefully landed on my knee and proceeded to slide on my ” behind” down the driveway. The neighbors were concerned, yelling from the doorway, asking if I was “hurt”. My pride kicked in, and of course I laughed it off, stumbling home to discover a quickly bruising and swelling knee. By the time I got into bed, the pain was unbearable; movement was my worst enemy. The next morning, I could not bear weight at all.

Here is the problem. All of my life, I have been athletic,independent,and more than self sustaining. Asking for help or assistance is out of the question for me. If I can not do it myself, it will not be done. Hmmm, this posed a real problem for me as I sat on the edge of my bed, wondering how to get to the bathroom, or how to even get out of the bed. Hmmm. I tried the bunny hop, the kangaroo hop, and the lame- leg-drag. I was not making progress quickly enough for my ever demanding, over-forty bladder. I was in a situation. 

Aging is not a happy place for me. I miss being able to do so many things that use to be a cake walk. There was a time that I could slam a tennis ball across the court at a startling 100 mph, placing it directly at my opponents feet. I could scurry across the court faster than the blink of an eye, rushing the net at the speed of lightning. I could hike mountain slopes with ease. I could swim like a fish for hours. I skied the diamond level slopes; 1100 ft. vertical drops were a breeze.  Those days are long gone, faint memories.    Standing there in my bedroom, leaning against the wall, staring at the bathroom door which presented itself like an oasis in the desert, I knew I had to make a phone call. I needed help. I needed someone to come over and help me. 

You know, I think it must be so difficult for our residents in long-term care facilities to accept their current situation. In my facility, I have men and women who have accomplished so much in their lives. One decorated former Marine was at Iwo Jima on February 23, 1945, watching the US flag as it was raised. Another resident was a skilled helicopter pilot during WW 11. Another was a high powered executive for a globally known retailer. Another served for the NBC network as a producer. Mrs. B. was a runway model for Chanel. Mr.K. was a dairy farmer for 52 years. Mrs. L. was a horse trainer…..Mrs.L. was the mother of four children, yet took in 31 foster children over the course of her time as a foster parent. Dr M. was the town’s only OB/GYN, delivering 8500 babies….. Each life tells a story, filled with dreams chased and fulfilled. Now, each resident sits in the dining room, waiting for the meal to come out of the kitchen. Some can no longer remember how to use the utensils, others can not understand what is happening around them. For the higher functioning residents, some realize their current state of mind, and know they are slowing declining as each day passes. Aging is a process. I personally do not find it a kind process at all. But I have also learned that regardless of the where we are in the aging process, life continues on, despite our attitude about it. As we age and body becomes more demanding and less forgiving, we must still remember that we can make a difference in the lives of others.

I’m sure you are wondering how my story ended, with my injured knee and bursting bladder. Well, I called my best friend, who raced over and helped me to the bathroom, helped me get dressed, packed my lunch, gave me a knee brace and drove me to work and provided me with a CANE to help me get about. My staff teased me unmercifully about the cane, calling me well-meaning-joking names, such as “old lady” and making AARP jokes. They had no idea of how much of a struggle my morning had been. They did not know how humbling it was to ask, and to accept it.

But you know what? I learned something from all of this. Aging is okay. I am okay. I still have much to offer society and contributions to make to the world. I may never be as quick on the tennis court, or swim the English Channel, but I can find joy and happiness in other things. I think I will adopt the thinking of Satchel Paige (1906-1982). He asked….
“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you was?” Age is a number…..living each day to its fullest is a priority. What we contribute to this world…..is ageles.

As A Man Sows…

My dad used to preach about how a man will always reap what he sows. Throughout my adulthood, I have often reflected on this, and found great solace in knowing that we all will reap, as we have sown. However, today, I am questioning the justice of such thoughts. Here’s why. Last year I had an employee who I will call Jane Smith. Jane was a fairly decent caregiver, meeting the needs of the residents in the facility. She seemed kind, patient and understanding. I found her to be an above average employee.Boy was I wrong about her in more ways than one.

On January 9th last year, I received a phone call from a Mrs. Perry’s daughter who was livid. Her mother had called her, accusing her of stealing money, writing checks on her account and using her credit cards for online shopping sprees. The daughter was calling to vent her frustrations about her mother’s accusations. Jane had been diagnosed with mild dementia a year or so back and you could tell their relationship was adrift.  I listened sympathetically, offering an understanding ear. I explained how this is a very common accusation among dementia patients.

The next day, I received another call from the daughter. ” Hey, do you have anybody that works there by the name of Jane Smith?”, she asked. Not only is it my duty to protect the residents of the facility but also the privacy of the employees. Before I could explain to her my legal obligations of who  works in the facility, she blurted out “She has written a lot of checks on my mother’s account.”

Theft in long term health care facilities is a daily occurrence that can rarely be proven. Residents misplace watches, rings, dentures, glasses, money, purses…on and on the list goes.How would we ever know if a watch has been flushed down the toilet, or pawned at the local pawn shop? But writing checks ….now that should be a slam dunk, easy to prove, easy to prosecute, easy to have her nursing assistant certification revoked type of case. Ummmmm, NO.

I thought I did everything right. I contacted the police who in turn, arrested her. She spent one night in jail and then was released pending her court date.I contacted all of the government agencies and boards, hoping to prevent her from being able to prey on others while she waited for her trial.

” Jessi, we don’t treat people like criminals until they are convicted.Until she is proven guilty of something, she has the right to continue to work in health care, the right to maintain her certifications and the right to not disclose her arrest on future employment applications.”   That’s what they told me.  Accusation is not conviction. In Virginia, an applicant must be ‘convicted” of a crime to be defined as ineligible for employment.       So to be clear, Jane Smith can prey on people until the justice system catches up with her.

In late March, we had a court case. I was ready to testify on behalf of the Commonwealth. Guess what? The case is postponed. May rolls around, same story, postponed due to Jane hiring another lawyer. July….postponed…..September…postponed……November….postponed again…..  By now, I have tossed her file in my desk drawer, resolved that she will get off the hook and there is nothing I can do about it.  The new hearing date is February 2014. Oh goody, another day I will sit in the courtroom, wait patiently for her turn, only for her to get another delay. 

Last week, on the front page of the local newspaper….would you believe what made the headlines? “Health Care Worker Arrested”.

There was Jane’s mug shot, big as day. She had stolen another elderly person’s credit cards, even using the credit card to pay her lawyers fees for

According to the article, she evidently made a living preying on the elderly and was pretty good at doing so.

How did this happen? Why? Why did there have to be more than one victim in this story? Why was she allowed to continue to work in a field where trust is so essential? Why was she allowed to go behind closed doors with helpless, defenseless people, when we know she can’t be trusted? How did the justice system fail all the elderly involved?

I don’t know how this will turn out, but I am going work for change. I am going to lobby for changes as to how we go about gathering information for criminal background checks and what information health care facilities are allowed to know about a potential employee before their set foot in a facility. It may a waste of my time, effort and energy, but all I can do is try.

It was interesting to read the comments in the newspaper about Jane. Many of the readers blamed the facilities for not digging deeper into her background. They defined our industry as a “horror”. They just don’t know how hard we try to prevent things like this from happening. I feel responsible enough for hiring Jane in the first place. I feel even worse about the rest of her victims.
My dad was right, we do reap what we sow…..but sometimes I prefer his sermon, “Vengeance is mine,saith the Lord”. Whether justice is served in this lifetime or not…..one day……..one day, we will all reap what we have sown.

This link below….well it’s an interesting read.

http://news.fredericksburg.com/newsdesk/2014/01/14/woman-investigated-in-scam-cases/

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My new book will be released soon!

Uh huh!!!!

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Song Within My Heart

Today was a rough day at the facility. I’m not sure if the weather being overcast and cloudy has caused the worst behaviors to manifest, or if it’s just a bad day for dementia patients everywhere. Mrs B. is screaming at the top of her lungs, Ï brought you into this world and I will….”(she forgot the rest of the cliche). Mrs. M. is yelling, “Help me, help me”, Mr. K. is determined to fall from his wheelchair onto the floor and Mrs. S. is demanding to know when the turkey will be done.

“Where is the turkey?” she asks.

“In the oven,” I reply.

“You are a liar. You are too lazy to put it in the over.You are a liar.”

Five minutes later, she reappears in my office.

“Where is the  turkey?”

“In the oven.”

“Okay, thank you.”

With that, she walks away, content and satisfied. A few minutes later I hear loud yelling from the sitting room. Mrs. S. is yelling at Mrs. B. over the location of, and who is watching the turkey. 

Some days working in long term health care with dementia patients can be confusing. For a moment, I too, am unsure about the turkey, the location of said turkey and when t will be done. But it is my job to insure that no fights or riots break out, and everyone remains safe.

“Okay ladies,”, the turkey is out of the oven, it’s cooling, so it’s ok. Why don’t we listen to some music while we wait for it to cool down?”      I found Patsy Cline’s greatest hymns, shuffled with a little Elvis,….within minutes the sitting room echoed the sounds of their voices singing along to the music. Mrs. S. leaned over to Mrs. W. and said, “That’s Betty Cline, I think her name is Betty Cline. She was killed in a car wreck.”  Mrs. M. overhearing her quickly corrected her.

“Patsy Cline, not Betty. Pasty. She died in a airplane wreck not a car wreck.”  No one seemed to notice Mrs. M.’s correction, for they were all too busy singing Amazing Grace.

Isn’t it amazing at the power of music? There is something about it, that calms the soul and warms the heart, creating a sense of peace. The turkey was forgotten, the yelling stopped and the debates ended. For a few minutes, all was calm.  

I can’t explain how music works, or how it affects any of us, but I do know it is effective. When teenagers are having relationship issues, they play the saddest songs…..when they are happy, the play loud…loud.. ummm..not sure what kind of, or if it’s even music…but it sounds bouncy and high spirited. When we dine in fine resturants ( I define “fine” as being anything that does not come in a paper bag with a big M on the side of it)…we listen to soft classical or upbeat jazz. Babies have lullabys and cute songs about spiders….why we would sing a spider song to a baby I will never know, but it proves my point of the power of music. “Itsy Bitsy Spider”  will be a childs favorite song…until they KNOW what a spider is.        If you get into my jeep. 11 of the 12 preset buttons are on some form of religious music. The 12th one is set to easy listening just in case I have  not-so religious riders in the car. Music…an inanimate sound that can create emotion. It has the power to soothe, calm and offend. It is one the most powerful forces in the world.

Many years ago when I was a youth director in my church, I used a series of videos (VHS….tells my age)  titled “Hells Bells” for a Wednesday night youth series. The video showed how music impacted our youth, causing bad things to happen to to them…….It showed that by listening to the music, it would lead them to use drugs, kill puppies and become the next Manson.   Needless to say, it was a very controversial  series. Parents argued both sides of the fence….those who were former Woodstock fans saw no harm in any music….while those wo home schooled their kids praised the idea.   I never formed my own opinion on the subject, and never really though about it again until now….20 years later.

I know music plays a role in everyone’s life.  I know that all of us have a song in our heart and I know it works for dementia patients……and ya know….I simply hope that when I am old, someone will play the song in my heart, even long after I have forgotten the words…….. Just turn on Casting Crowns or Mercy Me…Phillips Craig and Dean…….oh, an put the turkey in the oven for me…..

 

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Changing Tides

Growing up near the beach, I developed a deep love for the ocean. The ever-changing tides, the smell of the morning salt water and the gentle ebb and flow of the ocean always brought an overwhelming comfort and peace to my soul. If one thing was certain about the ocean, is change.I recall standing on the beach as Hurricane Hugo began to move into the Carolina’s in the early 90’s and watched in amazement at the anger of the waves. They slammed into the shore loudly,eroding and destroying anything in its path. The dark, black sky darkened the waters as a sign of its rage. Other days, standing on the beach, watching the sun blissfully  peeking over the rippling, calm waters, the captivating beauty would be overwhelming.  Change.

Recently, a teenager asked if she could interview me for her sociology class. The questions were about change, and how my era was different from her’s today. I suddenly old hearing the words, “your era”. Ummm…ERA? Really? I am not an ancient dinosaur!

“What were the biggest challenges when you were growing up? What social issues did you face?What advice would you give teenagers today based on what you experienced?” The questions seemed endless about my experiences in “my era”. I explained to her, that my generation was one of turmoil and change.Racial wars, segregation, Sit ins, flag burnings ,KKK marches, cross burnings and hippies were just the tip of the ice-burg in the 60’s and 70’s. Elvis was on the radio, TV was a new concept, that only the rich or fortunate had. Tye-dye and bell bottoms were in style. As I shared my experiences with her, I thought about the residents at the facility, wondering how they would answer those questions.I imagine their stories would be filled with excitement about Al Capone,the completion of the Empire State Building, the invention of air conditioning, Amelia Earhart’s first solo flight,wild tales of Bonnie and Clyde,the unveiling of th Golden Gate Bridge, the end of prohibition, and the completion of the Hoover Dam. They would also share the challenges of the attempted assassination of FDR, the rise of Hitler in Germany, the beginning of World War 2, the recovery from Black Friday in 1929 and the hard labor they endured to survive.They would describe their simple way of life, focused on God, family and Country. Divorce was unheard of, churches were packed every Sunday, and they believed in hard work. Latest fashion trends did not exist. Keeping up with the Jones was a thing of the future. Overall, life was good because they made it good, taking each challenge as it came, and never backing down because of fear of failure.
I would say that we could learn a lot from this generation. Look at all they endured. Look at the inventions and buildings they designed and created. They were a people of vison.
So to answer the question, “what advice would you give to teenagers today?”
Well, I think we should be like those before us….have a vision, and be fearless and hardworking……and who knows? Maybe you will build the next Golden Gate or the next Empire State Building.
Change. Ebb and Flow. The same raging tide that leaves a path of destruction is a surfers delight…..the same quiet crashing waves that softly ease us into a restful sleep will change in a few hours….as the moon changes it’s position, so will the ocean waves…..such is life….ebb and flow…..ebb and flow.

God Made a Dog

Are Prisons Better than Nursing Homes for the Poor & Elderly?

by Orion Jones

May 25, 2012, 6:30 PM

What’s the Latest Development?

For individuals with no assets and no family, the possibility of being committed to a Federal prison may be more promising than landing in a government-funded nursing home. Prison, after all, is not without certain benefits: “Prison is cheap (if not free), provides a steady supply of food, a relatively high level of healthcare, and some social interaction. In the best situations, you could take classes for college credit, learn a new trade, or spend your days catching up on television.” Becoming an inmate at a Federal prison located on a military base may be the best option, where one could work in clerical positions or even go the cinema.

What’s the Big Idea?

Unlike nursing homes, prisons must follow strict government regulations where inmates’ rights and standards of care are meticulously outlined. “Prisoners have access to personal or public defenders, and, in some cases, fully stocked law libraries. The government is required to maintain a proper level of care for inmates, with prisoners free to make due process arguments concerning quality of life in an established manner.” The quality of nursing homes, however, varies widely depending on the home, and because of steep costs, the elderly can lose all their assets just to pay for their last years of care.

Photo credit: Shutterstock.com              Article by Orion JOnes