Over the weekend, I went to visit a friend. She’s in her late 90s and has lived on her own since her husband died about 15 years ago. In recent years, as she’s grown more frail and gradually lost her eyesight, she’s needed extra help, with carers calling in four times a day to help her get up, feed her and make sure she takes her medication. She’s said it herself, but I’ve heard others repeat it: it’s no fun getting old.
Clearly the alternative doesn’t offer a lot to look forward to either, but you can sympathise with the sentiment.
Largely due to Covid, my direct contact with her has been limited over the last couple of years. Also, as her hearing deteriorated, it became increasingly difficult to speak to her on the phone. Thankfully, towards the end of last year, I was able to see her a few times. It was telling that, from the moment I sat down next to her, she gripped and held my hand, not letting go until it was time for me to leave.
Shortly after Christmas, an incident occurred at my friend’s flat. I don’t know all the details, but I can read between the lines. She managed to flood it, and the flat below. The outcome was that she was moved to a care home.
I’m not 100% sure what the rules are under the Covid regime, but I know they have been very restrictive for nursing and care homes. The current position with my friend’s care home is that residents can only have three visitors, and they must be registered in advance. I don’t mean three at a time. I mean three in total. Which meant my friend’s daughter had to make difficult decisions. Ultimately, I was included as one of the three, for the simple reason that, because I lived closer, I was more likely to be able to pop in and see her than her other daughter and grandchildren, who all live too far away to visit regularly.
So, all should’ve been set for visits. But Covid struck. Twice. Among the staff, I believe, but the result was that no visits were allowed for the best part of a month.
I should say here, that I don’t blame the staff or the management at the home. Theirs is a difficult job made even harder by the restrictions as a consequence of Covid. The fact that support wasn’t properly provided for care homes at the outset of the pandemic has, perhaps predictably, led to over-reactions to any subsequent developments. Still, with homes even more short-staffed thanks to Covid, the time cannot be there for them to give the residents the attention they deserve. At the same time, a lack of visitors must mean the residents aren’t getting much in the way of human interaction. And we all need that.
When I went to visit my friend at the weekend, having taken a lateral flow test and filled in a questionnaire that proved very little, but ticked the boxes required by the Care Quality Commission, I was led to her room and waited for her to be wheeled in. She didn’t need wheeling anywhere when I last saw her. We’d also been able to share a joke and some memories, although not as readily as we might’ve done pre-Covid. Not now. At times she was barely responsive. To have a proper conversation, you need to ask questions, but that doesn’t work if you can’t get an answer. I think she knew who I was, but it took a while. In the end, we settled largely for holding hands.
Life is busy for me at the moment. My partner is recovering from surgery, and there are other health issues within the family; there are always other family commitments – especially now there are grandchildren – and we’re also planning building work. The only reason I’ve had time to write this has been because my son and his partner were ill and had to cancel me visiting them. But I booked to visit my friend next week anyway. I doubt my visit will turn things around for her, but every little helps.
And, one day, that could – probably will – be me. So here’s hoping someone will take time out to visit when that time comes.
Hope things improve all round Graeme x
Thanks, Jill. I hope so too – for my friend. That said, I am concerned that she may be past the point of bouncing back. Sadly, I’ve seen this before with other people I know. As for my own issues, they’re only the same as a lot of people have. Time becomes an increasingly important commodity, doesn’t it?
the deterioration that Covid has caused is excruciating. Linda’s mum has been in supported living for three years but even though Linda was considered (and registered as) her carer during the pandemic so she could visit daily the lack of interaction from others, the lack of stimulus outside her flat has led to her going downhill rapidly. Physically she moves little and while she still communicates dementia is taking hold in increasingly egregious and debilitating ways. Even though there are more opportunities for her now, its probably too late to make any significant improvements. She’s 82 and probably had a good ten years before this. It doesn’t feel likely now. So well done for what you’re doing. It’s basically a shitty situation, but what else can you do?
It is horrendous, Geoff. Unfortunately, if Linda’s mum has to go into a care home, I suspect her deterioration will accelerate – whether we have Covid to contend with or not. It’s something I’ve seen before, and it’s not the fault of the care homes or the staff. I wish I could offer more hope for her – for both of them, really. Sadly, for one reason or another, I’ve had experience of what happens when the elderly start to go downhill, and it can turn quite rapidly. All we can do is try a little bit here and there. I’m not looking for plaudits here. It’s just a situation that is being played out all over right now and, as the population continues to age, it’s only going to get worse. Where are the young European workers when we need them? Not only as carers, but taxpayers who’ll add to the coffers to pay for the care that’s needed. (Sorry. Rant over!)
Witnessing how things have been developing is hard to swallow. I understand that it is difficult for her to deal with all that happened and the isolation has not been helping either. Hope everything will be better soon again for her.
I’m not overly hopeful, Erika, but we’ll see how things go. Hope all is well with you
I hope for the best. But however, you are a candle that gives warmth and light to your friend. Even though she may not react consciously, somthing in her recognizes that clearly. What a blessing to have a friend like you, Graeme!
That’s very kind of you to say, Erika. Really, though, I’m just trying to bank some brownie points so I’ll get visitors when it’s my turn!
I know what you mean. Karma will also act in blessing ways.
I’m ever hopeful… 😉
… absolutely justified!
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So true, Graeme, we all need someone to be there for us. Aging is a part of life but not a welcome one. I’ve noticed a big difference in my parents since this pandemic. Looking forward to spending some time with them soon. It always cheers them up when I visit. Sorry about your friend. My dad is 93 come his birthday. He’s lucky to have a younger wife! Mum’s 80 come her birthday!
Enjoy your time with them, Marje. For reasons too complicated to go into, I haven’t seen my mum since Christmas. My birthday’s coming up and Ess asked me what I wanted to do for it. Initially, I said I didn’t have anything I really wanted to do but, after thinking about it, I realised I wanted to see my mum! We do have to make the most of the time both we and they have.
Oh, I’m sorry to hear that Graeme. But that’s good, I hope you get to see your mum on, or around your birthday 🙂
Nothing to be sorry about – just life! Thanks, though. Hope life is treating you well
Yes fine. No more day job which has to be a plus! 🙂
I won’t deny it – there are advantages! 😉
Absolutely! 🙂
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