Ethyl Reflects: Nursing Home Visit.

My father in law's wife is in a nursing home.  She was not placed there because no one cared.  In her case it was just a matter of the ones who could still care for themselves being able to survive.  Sometimes the care of a person who is disabled is more than one person can handle, and in his case, her care fell primarily to him.  He did it as long as he was able, but ultimately the lack of sleep and the stress of coping with her disabilities was more than he could handle, so he had to make the painful decision to place her where someone who was qualified could help care for her.
My husband and I went with him last week to visit her, and that lead to coming face to face with scores of people in the process of reaching the end of their lives.  I walked down the hallway to the cafeteria to get her some extra milk and a little carton of ice cream to go with her chocolate cake they served her for lunch and my heart literally hurt.  I saw an old black woman in a wheel chair sitting in her door way,  head bent, rubbing her forehead as if she was in pain.  If the truth be known, she probably was.  And I wondered what she was thinking as she sat there looking so sad and forlorn, perhaps forgotten by family and friends who were just too busy taking care of their mates and children, going to their jobs each day,  pushing back thoughts of responsibility toward those who no longer were able to give them anything,  who could no longer  be an active part of their every day existence.  And I could not help thinking how our present day society  honors and glorified youth and beauty, and to a huge degree, has thrown away the old and helpless like so much refuse that has no further use except to be placed on the rubbish heap.
When I reached the cafeteria there were several older ones sitting around the tables having lunch, and one elderly gentleman was yelling for the nurses  to bring him another piece of chocolate cake.  The lady that waited on me laughed and made the comment that Charlie liked his sweets.  I chucked to myself at the fact that no matter how old some of us get, we can still find pleasure in the taste buds.  Even if the highlight of his day might be no more than enjoying his cake, at least he would have that.
 And it occurred to me that old age just might be the time when humans get rid of all the fluff and feathers we tend to surround ourselves with each day and just get down to basics.  To feel thankful when we can go to bed at night and sleep through the night, without waking up in pain or having our sleep disturbed by having to make a middle of the night trip to the bathroom. To be able to eat a piece of our favorite cake and appreciate the sweet taste on our tongues, and thank God that our taste buds still work and we have enough of a digestive system left to take care of what we put into it.  To be able to walk from one point to the next, even if we have to have the use of a cane or a walker to do it.  It occurred to me that perhaps at this stage of human existence, we might tend to be much more thankful for the small things in life.  Things we tend to expect and take for granted when we are full of youth and energy.  I think maybe there is a lot of truth to the old saying that we never miss our water until the well runs dry.
When I left the cafeteria and walked back up the hall way to my mother in law's room, a volunteer aid walked with me to help me find my way back.  The building was like a maze, so many different corridors going in so many directions, I would have had trouble finding my way by myself.  My father in law told me that one day he heard an old fellow in the hall way screaming for someone to help him find his way to the cafeteria.  I could perfectly understand why.  She and I passed an old gentleman with a walker making his way back from lunch, and he was pushing that walker ninety to nothing.  She chucked and told me they called him Speedy.  He may not have had anywhere to go that day, but he sure was in a big hurry to get there.
And so ended that visit to the nursing home.  I came away with a sense of sadness for all the hopelessness I saw there, but also with a renewed determination to try and do a little bit to lessen it if I possibly can.