Attitude Adjustments At Assisted Living

 

 

 

                                                                         
Looks fade, weight shifts, aches and pains come and go, but most elderly people are able to get away with saying whatever is on their minds. This freedom is cast aside, as the training wheels are being snapped back onto their walkers. They're entering new territory now, and must learn how to survive in the jungle of assisted living.

It's like high school for senior citizens, only with a lot less jocks. The cheerleaders do most of their cheering on the benches, and as resident "mean girls" they still rule the school. They decide who has the honor of joining them at the cool table, and most of the drama takes place in the dining room.

When a new arrival moves in, the head cheerleader and her co-captains invite her to dinner for a thorough inspection. The cheerleaders aren't necessarily the prettiest, but they're the most powerful. They still take pride in their appearance, and only offer a second invitation to those who fit in without threatening the chain of command. The same theories hold true in sororities and prisons; though their walkers are too cumbersome for shower activities.

There's a whole new meaning to girls who are "easy." This applies to women without visual or hearing impairments. If you're able to eat off of your own plate, and don't constantly ask them to repeat themselves you're invited to the next round.

As for the small group of men, one gentleman had to loudly blow his nose at the dinner table after each course, and he was in high demand. Rumor has it that the women even took turns winning him at Canasta.

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Today begins the  Blogging From A to Z April Challenge,  and I would like to thank   Arlee Bird  for making this all possible. He created the challenge four years ago, and it continues to grow stronger. Be sure to visit the list of over 1600 creative participants  here.

Keeping Up With The Geriadashians

(The Abbey Delray Tappers from The Palm Beach Post)

Now that the networks are showing previews of  the upcoming fall lineup, I thought it would be fun to create a new reality show for seniors. It's centered around three women who struggle to maintain their independence in an assisted living community. The series begins when the newest member is dropped off kicking and screaming, as her children drive off. 

After the new kid on the block calms down, she is escorted to dinner by the eyes and the ears of the joint directly to The Warden's table. Peeps is The Warden's right hand woman who scouts out the new girls who have the potential to be in their powerful inner circle. The Warden has been in charge for a few years now, and is sharp as a tack at ninety-two. Her eighty-nine year old sidekick Peeps aims to please, drives within a five mile radius in the daylight, and has excellent hearing and vision skills. The newcomer quickly realizes that ninety is the new sixty at this residence.

The Warden nicknames her "The Kid," because she is the youngest at seventy-seven, and she shines as bright as her red hair.  She's savvy enough to nibble at her dessert, leaving an extra bite or two. This puts her in The Warden's good graces, so that she'll be invited to another dinner at the "cool table."

Like other reality shows, they'll be plenty of backstabbing, and catchy lingo. Instead of "GTL" standing for "Gym, Tan, and Laundry" on Jersey Shore, our stars will create a whole new meaning. In conversations with their children "GTL" will stand for Guilt, Taunt and Lie To.

Another craze that I'm hoping to inspire is a new drinking game. Each time one of the character's proclaims to her family, "I don't want to be a burden," will be an opportunity to drink a shot. Hence, the kids and the ratings will soar together.

In keeping with the competition, part of the initiation into the seniorority will be special lightning rounds. For example, when a resident's daughter calls to ask if she needs anything the first response is, "Oh, no thank you. I don't want to be any trouble." After the daughter insists, the clock starts, and the resident has exactly one minute to rattle off as many items from various out of the way locations as possible. The winner will receive unlimited bathing assistance, and walker tune-ups for a month.

Viewers will also venture to exotic locations when a new character, The Faller is sent to different nursing homes for rehab. She charms the handsome paramedics into believing that she is steady on her feet, until they are summoned to pick her up again the next day. When she falls again in the nursing home, they outfit her with an alarm for her protection. This alerts the nurses every time she tries to stand up, or grab something that is not within reach. After her protests to be freed from "living like a caged animal" are not met, she finds a way to disconnect the alarm herself. Word travels to The Warden, and she is immediately promoted to an executive board position in the seniorority.
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© 2012 Julie Kemp Pick

Moving Mom

with her grandsons in 2004 

                                                                     

Our retirement community visits were like an outing with Goldilocks:
"Nobody colors their hair at this place."
 "Who needs a rainforest in the atrium when it's much too humid?"  And my mom's top complaint was, "There are too many old people here." Finally, my mom agreed to narrow it down to one place, but our journey was only beginning.

My mother lived in the same house for more than forty six years. She raised her family in that house, and stayed until her grandsons carried her out. She had a spinal fusion about three years ago, and moved back home after living with us for about ten months during her recovery. The problem was that her home has several levels, and it was just too much for her to navigate the stairs with a walker. I pleaded with her to move into an apartment, but she kept saying that she was doing just fine.

Last September she suffered a fall. Fortunately, she fell on her nose and didn't have any serious injuries. Then I suggested visiting some assisted living residences, so that she could be in a safe environment and not have to worry about cooking.  After much cajoling, she agreed to move into a lovely place on beautiful grounds that was close to home.

The plan was to have a trial run during a "respite stay" for the month of December, and to officially move in at the beginning of January. We were leaving on a family vacation on December 16, so I felt relieved that she would be in a safe place while we were gone. She kept putting it off, and a few days before we left, she fell again. This happened on the day that my son and I were originally going to move her in, but she decided to postpone it until after we came back. My mother also didn't tell me about her fall until the day before our flight, because she didn't want to "ruin our trip." My brother, and my dearest friend said that they would check in on my mom, so we went as scheduled.

A few days after Christmas when my mom was finally set to move in, I got a call from Life Alert. My mom had fallen again, and this time she couldn't get up. They offered to send the fire department over, but she wouldn't hear of it. Fortunately, our boys were home for winter break so they drove over with me.

En route Life Alert called again to tell us that my mom managed to pull herself up, only to fall a second time. Now she wasn't objecting to having the fire department come out. In the meantime, we called my mom's doctor who agreed that my mom should head over to the ER.

When we arrived at her house the firefighters were just leaving. I asked why they weren't taking her to the hospital, and they told me that she didn't want to go. I pointed out that she clearly needed to go, but they said that they could not take anyone against their will. After I convinced the firefighters to take her, my mom said that she wasn't ready to leave. Since I had my two musclemen with me, I thanked them and said that we would drive her. I didn't want them to have to wait around while I tried to reason with her. BIG mistake.

My mom wanted to pack, change clothes, and freshen up before we left, but there were two problems; she couldn't move, and she was on the second level of the house. She was acting as though she were getting ready for a weekend in the country, instead of going to the hospital. The boys carried her down the stairs, and helped her into her wheelchair. In the rush, I had forgotten to bring the foot rests for the wheelchair, so the boys were holding onto her at one end, while I was walking backwards and holding onto her feet. We finally got her up into my SUV, but the staff at the ER still had a hard time getting her out. Although she's light as a feather, she has the ability to turn herself into a dead weight.

Miraculously, she didn't break anything but was severely dehydrated, which caused concern about her kidneys. My mom went from the hospital, to a nursing home, and eventually made it to the assisted living community in February. I was grateful that our sons were so helpful when we needed them the most, but I should've insisted that the firefighters had taken her instead.

If you asked my mom about her new home she would tell you that the delicious variety of food is only fair, but she would light up if you asked her about the location. Nestled in between her two favorite shopping centers, she's practically down the street from where she used to live, or as she puts it, "I'm just five minutes away from everything I love."  I live about twenty minutes away in case you were wondering.