THE CONVALESCENT EXPERIENCE

 

          My grandmother was just a little bit of a drama queen.  Since I was ten, I would have to listen to her talking about how she thought she did not have long on this earth.  She reported on aches and pains but never followed that up with hospital or doctor visits.  That is why I learned to tune it out.  Fast forward 30 years; the complaints become daily topics of conversation and she eventually began promising that it would be ok if we put her in a convalescent home.  It was her way of getting us to say what she wanted to hear: We’d never do that to you; we want you here with us; we’ll take care of you.
 

It got to a point when my grandfather, who is six years older than my grandmother, began to show signs of fatigue.  He would help her every morning to get out of the bed and into the bathroom.  They had the same routine at the end of the day when it was time for bed.  I moved in to help him.  Unfortunately, her health declined and my help made little difference.  I was determined to take care of her though.  My feelings was that she did not have much time so I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible.  I did not want to put her away somewhere we she wouldn’t be comfortable and we would not have access to her.
 

My grandmother and grandfather conspired behind my back to put her in a convalescent.  They did the research and one day they told me to make the call.  With an extremely heavy heart I made the call.  She was a trooper about it, but I know she was scared.  All those wolf tickets she sold were being cashed and there was no turning back.  My grandfather was relieved.
 

The place her doctor sent her was dirty and smelly.  I wanted to cry the moment I set foot in the facility, but I channeled that energy into making her comfortable.  To describe it as smelly is not an understatement.  The faint smell of feces was everywhere, especially when her roommate's colostomy bag leaked.  I bought air fresheners that did not help much.  I tried so hard to make her dark room pleasant and comfortable, but what I immediately noticed was that she could not be satisfied.  The nurses were not my allies as I had wished they would be.

 

The first week she was there, the nurses were very attentive and kind. After that we had to do a great deal of the work that the paid staff was supposed to do.  After two months and no change, we checked her out.  I really think they counted on her dying before the end of her Medical-subsidized stay, but she did not.  It was heartbreaking to get her home and discover she couldn’t do ANY of the things she could before she went into the convalescent home. 

Unfortunately, we had to send her to another convalescent facility.  Even though it was cleaner, it was more depressing.  The staff was oppressive and unaccommodating.  Thankfully, I was aware of my rights.  If I wasn’t prepared to assert our family’s desires, we would not have received the respect we experienced.  I’m sure my daily visits--and I mean EVERYDAY--had an impact on the staff’s perception of me.
 

They saw me everyday and were aware of my dedication to my grandmother.  It took at least three weeks for them to know that I was not there just for show.  They were more inclined to help me or get me what I needed when I asked, but that did not mean they wanted to.
 

The bed sore my grandmother developed in the other convalescent did not get any better.  She never got any results on the urine tests they took or the blood work they did.  What happened is that they gave her a catheter and did everything to make their jobs easier while my grandmother developed a urinary tract infection to the point it entered her blood and circulatory system.  She began passing blood and she had to be taken to ER from which she never returned.
 

This is not to indict the elder care system--although they very well deserve such an investigation and proclamation. The purpose of this expository is to raise the question of the kind of people who are hired to care for our most vulnerable and the motivation of the people who seek out such employment.  
 

As an educator, I am aware of the claims by employers and corporations that there are not enough qualified workers in this country.  From my experience, what I have noticed is that employers tend to hire individuals who they feel will not challenge their authority and mirror the personality traits of the interviewer.  This is not a healthy selection process, and it certainly has nothing to do with serving the needs of the customer in the facility.  The directors and managers and head nurses all blame each other, small budgets and incompetent workers.  No one wants to look at themselves and the values they hold--not the ones they post in the hall or the website.
 

The kind of people who seek these jobs seem to be the type who need the work, not the type who want to work.  These people are in my classes.  They want a job.  Yes, they want to help people and there is always a need and job openings in facilities, but an understanding of the demands of the job is not considered.  Nobody wants to tell our prospective CNAs or NAs about the cranky old people, the fluids that come out of all orifices of their bodies, the smells, the depressing sickness and the death.  Very few of them are prepared to truly give what they truly need to give--compassion--because they are well trained in their duties and tasks, but not in the human quality that makes all of their trained skill meaningful.

 

This experience made me realize why my mother and grandmother were so adamant about teaching me not to consider putting elders into care facilities as an option.  Putting them in such facilities is the beginning of their end.  Without the love and care of family, we die.  We cannot expect people who get paid little more than minimum wage to give our family members the love and compassion they need to have hope enough to flourish and thrive in their old age.  Unless the culture of this industry changes and the values of this nation evolve, elder care facilities will continue to be nothing more than assisted death facilities.
 

          There are those who will read this and argue that some people have to work, some people have families to take care of, and some people have bills to pay.  Where there is a will, there is a way.  I sacrificed a great deal.  I am happy I did.  In the process of shutting down my life for my grandparents, I have rediscovered the life I set aside in pursuit of insubstantial things.  Sometimes we have to look at the blessings in the setbacks.