Vortex: The Journey of a Nursing Home Survivor

Contents

DEDICATION:

PROLOGUE:

INTRODUCTION:

5-2007

1-12-08

1-16-08

1-17-08

1-23-08

1-27-08

2-04-08

2-07-08

2-08-08

2-09-08

2-10-08

2-13-08

2-14-08

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3-01-08

3-03-08

3-04-08

3-05-08

3-06-08

3-07-08

3-08-08

3-10-08

3-11-08

3-12-08

3-13-08

3-14-08

3-15-08

3-16-08

3-17-08

3-22-08

3-24-08

3-26-08

3-27-08

3-28-08

3-29-08

3-30-08

3-31-08

4-01-08

4-02-08

4-02-08

4-03-08

4-05-08

4-06-08

4-07-08

4-08-08

4-11-08

4-12-08

4-14-08

4-15-08

4-16-08

4-17-08

4-18-08

4-19-08

4-20-08

4-21-08

4-22-08

4-23-08

4-24-08

4-25-08

4-26-08

4-27-08

4-28-08

4-29-08

4-30-08

4-31-08

5-01-08

5-02-08

5-03-08

5-04-08

5-06-08

5-07-08

5-08-08

5-08-08

5-09-08

5-10-08

5-11-08

5-12-08

5-14-08

5-17-08

5-19-08

5-21-08

5-22-08

5-23-08

5-24-08

5-25-08

5-26-08

5-27-08

5-28-08

5-28-08

5-29-08

5-30-08

5-31-08

6-01-08

6-02-08

6-03-08

6-04-08

6-06-08

6-09-08

6-13-08

6-14-08

6-16-08

6-17-08

6-18-08

6-19-08

6-20-08

6-21-08

6-24-08

6-25-08

6-26-08

6-27-08

7-23-08

7-29-08

7-30-08

8-13-08

9-07-08

10-14-08

10-24-08

12-22-08

12-23-08

12-24-08

12-25-08

1-01-09

MORE STATISTICS AND WEB SITES:

THESE ARE THE PROFIT MARGINS IN THE FOLLOWING CATAGORIES

NURSING HOME STATISTICS, U.S.

WHAT CAN BE DONE?

HFCA is Medicare’s operational arm:

DOCTORS:

THE FOLLOWING IS SOME OF THE COMMON CAUSES OF FILING A COMPLAINT AGAINST A PHYSICIAN:

WHEN TO FILE A COMPLAINT:

OBTAINING INFORMATION ABOUT PHYSICIANS FROM THE BOARD:

MEDICAL TESTS

MEDICATIONS

STRESS AND THE NEED FOR EXERCISE

SOURCE: AS PRINTED IN ARTHRITIS TODAY FROM THE BRITISH MEDICAL JOURNAL, FEB. 13, 2009

PRIOR TO ENTERING A NURSING FACILITY AND UPON ENTRY THINGS THAT CAN BE DONE TO AVOID THE PITFALLS:

WHERE TO LOOK FOR INFORMATION ON CHOOSING A NURSING FACILITY:SEE PAGE 389 AND THE FOLLOWING:

Nursing Homes At A Glance

WHY YOU NEED TO KNOW WHO OWNS THE FACILITY:

WHAT TO LOOK FOR WHEN CHOOSING A FACILITY AND QUESTIONS TO ASK.

QUESTIONS TO ASK THE ADMINISTRATOR, DIRECTOR OF NURSES, ETC. BEFORE/AFTER

THE HOW TO INFORMATION ON VISITING A RESIDENT IN A NURSING FACILITY:

INFORMATION ON NURSING HOMES AND SERVICES FOR SENIORS:

DRUG DISCOUNTS:

ABUSE:

ADDITIONAL CHECKING:

ADDENDUM TO VORTEX

10-09

11/02/09

REFERENCES:

Acknowledgements:

LANGUAGE:

CREATIVITY! ALWAYS KEEP IN MIND CREATIVITY DOES NOT DIMINISH WITH AGE.

DEDICATION:

I dedicate this book to all the residents living in a nursing facility, those that will enter one and those who have the strength to leave. May God be always with you.

PROLOGUE:

The age of our population is increasing with people living longer. Some of the laws, which may have been written years ago that are meant to protect seniors and others who reside in nursing facilities, for various reasons protect the facilities in which they reside. I am not saying only the people living in them need protection. I am saying it has become a downhill slide and it needs to be stopped. I believe this can be done through people’s awareness and new laws. When the need is known and great enough this will cause change.

Let us not put blinders on and permit those needing help and our valued elderly to live their last years any other way but in a state of grace.

INTRODUCTION:

In 1994 at the age of 56 I decided to become a peer counselor, activity director and get training in exercise and the use of weights for people over 50. Having done that, I volunteered at a care facility. It wasn’t long before I was hired as an activities director. I worked there until the family of a resident with Alzheimer’s asked me to be her 24 hour care giver. I left my job at the facility and provided around the clock care for her until she passed on. After her death I continued my work with seniors.

This experience allowed me to document the pros and cons of care facilities and the vitality in the aging of those I cared for.

I was diagnosed with a seizure disorder after the birth of my oldest son in 1963. I had been tested by neurologists, medical doctors, psychiatrists and psychologists. Some said it was epilepsy and some said it was stress induced.

I had been placed on a variety of medications. I would go for long periods of time without having a seizure, on medication or not. Approximately 40 years later, after an accident and dealing with the stress of it for more than 5 years my son and six dogs came to live with me. My seizure disorder flared up.

I was unaware that my son arrived dealing with his own disability. My house became disorganized, my seizures unresolved. I became seizure prone, falling and constantly injuring myself. I repeatedly ended up in emergency rooms. No one seemed to know what to do. The last time, because my prognosis was poor, I was sent from the E.R. to a skilled nursing facility. The following is my experience of living there for 13 months. It is a view of facilities, staff, and conditions where seniors are placed to end their lives.

I tell this account because of my experience of working with seniors both in and out of facilities and what I and other residents had to face daily. I believe there is a great need for change because it is a horror story not to believe.

Some of the names have been changed or deleted to maintain confidentiality and protect personal privacy.

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole, part or any form. Permission to be granted solely by author.

Copyright Pending 2009

Library of Congress

ISBN 978-1-4507-2811-9

ISBN 978-1-4507-2812-6

Bar code issued by Bar Code Graphics

Edited by: Meyer Wolfe

Art Work provided by author, Sandra GilA

5-2007

DOCUMENTING: I found the facility to be a noisy place, where everyone had some kind of problem from brain surgery to strokes. I was 68 years old, a fish out of water.

As the days became a torment for me, I could no longer lie quiet, saying nothing about what I was experiencing and observing. I cared and spoke to all who would listen. It was then someone said to me, Sandra, keep a journal it helped my mother. My friend had brought me books to read and a composition book to document them in, so my account began.

Medications are not given when needed or when prescribed. And some are not necessary. People are left wet in their beds uncovered and cold, some naked. Showers are not given twice weekly as they say, sometimes not for weeks. The showers are flooded and the sinks and toilets back up to over flowing. It is very difficult to get clean and remain clean.

The food is bad and they gave me tuna fish and cottage cheese for over a month because I told the dietician I was close to being a vegetarian.

The people, who work here, not enough and too stressed out, don’t speak English well and will do things their way indifferent to the needs of the residents.

My doctor is either too old or not very bright. He has caused me to be taken to the hospital (my cost of over $6,000.00) after I asked him to slowly be taken off a Fentynal patch. I had been on it for a couple of years and was not having pain. I had asked if it should be done slowly. I was told not to worry that he would take care of it and give me some pills to take. At the end of the patch life-a nurse removed it. I questioned her about just removing it and was told doctors orders. I was given nothing and went in to a horrible withdrawal. I was taken to the hospital where they had to give me intravenous morphine and other drugs to alleviate the withdrawal. I was told they never should have taken me off the patch the way they did. I was sent back to the facility with instructions on the type, strength and duration of medication needed to come off the patch without withdrawal. On Christmas day at my sister’s house I went into withdrawal again. The facility had given me the wrong medication.

They have mixed up the medications and can be confused as to the residents who are to receive them and their times to be taken.

At least two of the staff heads were originally maintenance people and or activity directors who are unfit for the positions they are now in. The want to be administrator has failed the state exam three times.

Things are not handled in a timely manner if at all. The laundry does not return socks but rather puts them in three large cardboard boxes left on the floor, to be gone through by residents and C.N.A.’s. When I got tired of my socks not being returned, I safety pinned a pair together. I got them back three months later.

All the clothes must have the residents name on them with permanent marker. Sometimes the laundry will print names on the clothes. (It can be anywhere on the article of clothing.) Front, back, side, leg, arm and the size of the printing is anywhere from miniscule to four inches.

When I complained about my missing clothes I was told the facility was purchasing a few mesh bags for some residents to put their laundry in so it wouldn’t get lost or stolen. It took over three weeks for me to get one and when I finally did they either lost or stole the bag and all my clothes that were in it.

They go through the closets and drawers taking money, clothes or whatever they want. I have lost a new pair of pajamas, a new Chanel purse, underwear, slacks and money. The items may or may not be returned, if they are returned, it could be months later, and then they are shop worn and dirty. It takes a good deal of complaining to get anything back. If the items are never found or returned, you are told to bring in a receipt for them and then you don’t get reimbursed anyway. I was told by the administrator that I should go shop with my sister and bring in the receipts to give the owner and then maybe they would see about reimbursing me.

Money has been stolen from other residents and the activity department, lock box and all. I gave the administrator $50.00 to hold. When I asked for it I was told they had used it for my transportation to the doctor. I was very upset because I knew the cost to go and return from that doctor was $8.00 by cab. I never saw the rest of the $50.00 dollars.

They came to fix the showers after a week and the noise is so loud you can’t hear a T.V. with the door closed. The soap dispensers are always out of soap. They finally filled mine, now it’s not closed and not working.

The house cleaners come to clean using detergents that cause runny noses and watering eyes. On occasion they do what they call a complete room cleaning. Unannounced they put a sign on your door C.N.A.’s have residents out by 10:00 A.M. When the cleaners are done, dust is still everywhere. Everything has been moved, so the resident has to put their things back the way they were, including the bed.

All the people working in the facility have a fear of losing their jobs. Many come from different countries and converse with each other in their own languages often in front of the residents. Some have come here to make money to send back to their relatives or with the idea that they will eventually earn enough here to retire, go back to their country of origin and live well.

The C.N.A.’s will often come in at night or 5: A.M. loudly talking, laughing, singing and arguing. They will turn on the lights and open the doors. This awakens the residents. As if that isn’t enough, they will turn on the televisions and or change channels to watch what they want hoping that they will not be seen or found. The workers all seem to be tired and stressed out so they are constantly looking to go on break, eat or go home.

Well, Roto-Rooter has been here for most of the day; the sinks still leak and the toilets are not working.

Now the lights and electricity have gone off. They say there is no backup. What is their solution? To leave your door open so they can see if the residents are still alive. I’m wondering about the poor residents on oxygen-are they alright?

I had decided to help care for a senior resident because I saw he was being neglected. His name was Rinaldo. He was born in Switzerland and lived in Italy until the age of twelve. He came to the United States by himself, having traveled through three countries to get to New York City and his father. He spoke four languages and was full of wit and wisdom, was very charming and intelligent, a kind, gentle, strong willed man who knew about life and how to live it.

As our relationship expanded he asked me if I would become his responsible party or marry him. His niece, Linda, who was his responsible party, said I could discuss his well being with the doctors and nurses. There was a lot to discuss and it was ongoing. Not because he was ill but, to their treatment of him. I kept trying to make life as good for him as I could. I got him interested in Bingo. Winning so many times we were told we should lose so others could win. I was accused of taking Rinaldos prizes and keeping them for myself. He was experienced in Yoga, meditation and exercise, practices he started as a youth. I took him to the chair exercise program, twice a week, where he said he knew what to do by watching me. I checked with a French man working in the facility, he was a chiropractor and physical therapist. Rinaldo happily began to do weight lifting, even though he was in a wheel chair. He was exercising with me and wanted to walk again. I found out he had been walking and doing Yoga when he entered the facility just about a year before. I saw a dated picture of him to prove it.

One day I was told by one of the staff not to work with him anymore, as I was a resident and they were trying to help me. This upset Rinaldo who said he knew what was good for him. I agreed with Rinaldo. I never did figure out how my not helping Rinaldo would help me.

I noticed his nose running and he began coughing. I watched him and saw that his sputum was turning yellow. I told the charge nurse twice but, nothing was done. He got worse. One day the doctor was there and I told him about Rinaldo’s problems. The doctor wasn’t able to communicate with him and asked me to help. I translated, although we all spoke English and Rinaldo did not have an accent. The doctor ordered a chest x ray and put him on antibiotics. It cleared up and the next time the doctor was in he said Rinaldo looked better and he thought he had had an infection. A charge nurse told me it was pneumonia. If I had not spoken to the doctor, who knows what might have happened.

I worked with Rinaldo for 15 months giving him a variety of food, taking him to activities and getting him to participate seeing to his every need. He said he loved me and that he couldn’t believe at his age he was in love, but he was also concerned about me and didn’t want me to do too much and wear myself out. When I was ill and unavailable, he would wheel himself into my room and tell me sometimes a person feels better if they have a visitor. He trusted me and knew I was the one who cared for him. He and another resident who sang opera would sing to me outside my room, beautiful Italian arias. It moved me.

My sister Janice began to come once a week. She would take me grocery shopping. Janice got me a small refrigerator. I would buy food I thought Rinaldo could eat, healthy food, fresh fruits and vegetables. He enjoyed what I bought and ate with relish, he loved every bite. He had no problem eating what I fed him.

The person who had told me not to work with Rinaldo had said she didn’t want any trouble and did I want her to lose her job and her license because he was on a pureed diet, because he might choke.

In the over 15 months I fed Rinaldo, he never choked or aspirated anything I gave him. According to the doctor and nurses he had been evaluated by a speech therapist who had diagnosed him with a swallowing problem. His niece said she didn’t know if he had ever been evaluated in a hospital. The speech therapist is no longer here, but when she was she would talk to me in private about her unhappy life. One day Rinaldo overheard her complaining to me and he said She’s going to have many problems and so it seems.

The people who work here exaggerate the miniscule and the big things are either not recognized or minimized, if seen at all.

One day I was the only capable person in the activity room. A resident fell over pulling her wheel chair with her on to the floor. She had been improperly secured. When I ran for help they came in and took her blood pressure as she lay on the floor with the wheel chair on top of her.

The doctor who is supposed to be taking care of me has done the following: My son got me a Neurologist who put me on a new seizure medication, Keppra. I was to take one pill a day for two weeks and then increase it to two pills a day, night and morning. It was a day shy of the two weeks. I had been under a lot of stress from the facility. I was feeling seizure prone. I explained all of this to the charge nurse. She phoned the facility doctor. His nurse practitioner came. I explained it again. She said I had a thyroid condition.

I had never been told any tests had been taken. She said, She would start me on thyroid medication immediately, Synthroid. No medication was given. Four days later the medication had come in and they wanted to give it to me. By then I had time to think about it and to find out if any tests had been taken. I was told none had. I refused the medication. However, a lab technician had been taking blood tests at 2:30 in the morning for months. I was never told what for and when I asked she said she didn’t know.

I had stayed in bed for two days to prevent a seizure because they did not give me the second pill (Keppra). They could have called the neurologist to find out if it would be alright to do so. They didn’t.

When I next saw the facility doctor he never mentioned a thyroid problem. The blood tests continued at 2:30 in the morning further stressing me out. A few weeks later I saw the facility doctor at the nurse’s station. I told him what had happened. He said, Your thyroid is high, then said, it is low. He stated a thyroid condition can cause seizures. I was aware of this and explained to him not one of the specialists, I had gone to in my lifetime, had ever said the seizures were caused by a thyroid condition. Nothing more was said.

The doctor told me I had been taking Synthroid when I entered the facility. When I informed him I had not he said maybe another doctor had called here and confused me with another patient. The nurses kept trying to give me Synthroid, day and night. They continued the blood tests because they had been ordered. I finally got the blood tests at 2:30 A.M. stopped but, it wasn’t long before the lab technician was once again in my room at 2:30 A.M. asking to draw blood for a thyroid test.

The next time I saw the doctor he asked me how my shoulder and neck was. I told him I wasn’t having any problems with my shoulder or neck but, my ankle had been swollen.

My sister had cured that with a pair of supportive shoes and an elastic bandage. Prior to talking to the doctor I had told a nurse about my swollen ankle. She said to elevate it. I tried for three weeks to get a pillow by then it was cured. I had asked to be put back on Lasix and potassium which I had been taking before entering the facility. No response.

I finally got the Lasix and potassium per my request, PRN, after triple the dosage, 60mg instead of the 20 mg I had been on was given to me. When they gave me (unknown to me) the much larger dose I became weak and shaking.

Some of the C.N.A.’s have been coming in to tell me they love me and not to be stressed out. These workers (few and far between) are gentle kind and caring but, it is very hard not to be stressed out here.

I was told the charges to be in this facility are $5,000.00 per resident a month or based on a sliding scale to the facilities advantage. I do not know what each resident is charged or how much they actually pay. I’ve been told some residents paid up front to get in. Is this legal? I do know Medicare and Medical work hand in hand. If you have any money or anything of value it must be spent down to $2,000.00 before Medical begins to pay. Then Medical can collect what they pay for you, while you are alive, from your estate after your death. So they take it either while you are in a facility or after you die. As Rinaldo and other residents have said you had better keep your money in a bank account you control because you’ll never see a penny of it once the facility get’s a hold of it. The anti goes up the more you have.

When I first came to this facility I had a roommate who was 99 years old. She had lived at home and took care of herself until she fell and broke her leg. We soon became close, caring friends. She hated the cast on her leg, which was huge. She told me if she had a pair of scissors she would cut it off and I believed she would have. She hated living in the facility. She wanted to go home. There were times when help wasn’t forth coming so she would crawl out of her bed onto the floor, trying to get the help she needed. The solution the staff came up with was to place her mattress on the floor. She continued to crawl off it. I would call for assistance. They either got tired of me doing that or wanted her bed for a higher paying person and so removed her from my room a two bedroom to a room with 3 beds, at the other end of the facility. She is still sleeping on the floor. The cast was changed and finally removed. Nothing was done to help her to walk again. Now she wheels herself down the hall cold and crying asking for help. When I see her I always hug her talk to her and try to find out what she wants. If it is something I can get for her I do. Her new shoes and clothes have been lost or stolen. I noticed her eyes were bright red and tearing. I told the nurse who said she was going to phone the doctor. A sore toe she had since she was my roommate hurt her because she had no socks or shoes on to protect it. When I asked where her shoes were I was told by the staff they didn’t know and didn’t have the time to look for them.

I was given a new roommate an 88 year old woman who had asthma. She was on a variety of medications including an atomizer which she used three times a day starting at 5:00 A.M. It was loud and she would make continuous grunting noises to the sound of the machine. She would pray out loud in the middle of the night, go to the bathroom and leave the door open, the light on, and go into her drawers banging them shut. This resident (as others) liked to see what I was doing and hear what I was saying. She would leave her hearing aid out when she wanted to have a conversation with me-some people do this because the noise a hearing aid can make prevents them from hearing clearly- but, this does not allow them to hear any better. I found out she had been in three other rooms before coming to mine. When I gave her my T. V. control so she could watch television she refused to give it back insisting it belonged to the facility because it was in our room. My son had bought the television for me.

At 5:00 A.M. every morning she would use the atomizer awakening me. I found out she could use it at 6 or 7 o’clock but, she was very frightened that she would have an asthma attack. She didn’t want the patio door opened at any time. I saw her walking many times but, she had and used a wheel chair. She accused me of leaving a bar of soap in the bathroom and made out a complaint to that effect which got written up against me. After a time I thought it funny because I did not use bar soap and the staff had suggested I get a soap container. I already had a soap container I had won playing bingo. I couldn’t seem to get through to them that I didn’t use bar soap.

When I complained to the administrator and P.R. person about my lack of sleep I was told to move out of the room. I explained to them that I had been in this room since I first came to the facility and didn’t want to move. Eventually they moved her out but shortly after that they asked me to move again saying they needed the room for male residents. I knew this was not true because they had empty beds in male rooms, I had seen them. They wanted to move me to a three bed room. More stress.

Dinner was half of a sloppy tuna fish sandwich on white bread a few potato chips and a scoop of cottage cheese (which I also had for lunch) along with a few pieces of watermelon. This was served with a soup they continuously give the residents. It is a watery base with a lot of overcooked celery. Sometimes it might have an over cooked vegetable, a bit of barley or meat and lots of pepper. It’s mostly salted water. Along with that I got two unsalted crackers.

Yesterdays dinner was not recognizable as fish or fowl, sweetened as was the under cooked white rice. Some crushed pineapple (canned) and a half slice of soggy white bread. The bread is always soggy because it is placed on top of the food and absorbs moisture. Desert was a cross between a biscuit and a cookie with watery icing drizzled over the top and how could I forget the milk which might be regular, low fat or skim and at times partly frozen.

They gave me a salad at lunch. It consisted of old brown dirty lettuce, one pea and four slivers of carrots.

They don’t pick up the food trays in a timely manner, especially in the evening. Many times the C.N.A. who works that shift is too busy watching television. So I carry my tray, when I can, and sometimes other trays to the cart, because the only place to write is this one rolling tea wagon in your room which is also used to eat on.

I had the option of eating in the activity room or my room. I chose my room because the noise caused by the staff, unhappy residents and big screen TV make the activity room stressful.

My dear Rinaldo is going up and down the hall calling me. They asked him why he’s doing that. I will go to him.

When I had a tonic clonic seizure in September (before I saw the Neurologist) I went down hitting a tea cart, cut my head, requiring stitches, broke a tooth and my glasses, I asked to see an eye doctor. My glasses were cracked, one lens was out and the frame bent.

In January someone came to examine the resident’s eyes. The doctor had me read an eye chart. I was told I had 20-20 vision but, I needed glasses. My glasses are progressive lenses. I wanted the same kind, as bifocals bothered me when I walked and I was walking for exercise. I was told I could have a prescription or bifocals because Medicare didn’t pay for progressive lenses. They said they would fill the prescription for $300.00. I didn’t have the money so I took the prescription for later use.

Janice had taken me twice to someone who had adjusted my frames and inserted the lens. I was told the crack in the lens would eventually run across it.

I explained all of this to Social Services and was told he would take care of it but it might be a while as he had five other people who wanted glasses. Needless to say, some people got glasses. I did not. After I left the facility, I found the prescription was incorrect and I have Glaucoma. I know it can be inherited but, I was told it could also be caused by a blow to the head. I am sure the doctor got paid for the wonderful service rendered me.

I have yet to see a dentist. I have a tooth that is turning black and several cavities plus the broken tooth caused by the fall when I had the tonic clonic seizure. I don’t want to lose my teeth.

A dental technician came to the facility and cleaned a few of the resident’s teeth, not mine.

The C.N.A.’s came to talk to me (not about eye glasses or teeth) but, I can’t respond. I’m very upset and that’s putting it mildly.

Two C.N.A.’s brought in my lunch they asked me what was wrong. When I told them they said You should move to another facility. Then they said another resident had gotten in touch with the state and they were coming and for me to talk to that resident and to talk to the state and tell them everything that’s going on here. I tried but it didn’t work. The C.N.A.’s said I shouldn’t worry about them losing their jobs. One of these C.N.A.’s is kind and caring. She is very upset about the treatment of the residents and runs herself ragged trying to help and she does help but, she can’t do every ones job.

She told me that Rinaldo’s family was very happy he had me and that Rinaldo needed a friend.

The following are some of the things I do for Rinaldo: See he gets help to go to the bathroom. If he is wet, I get his clothes changed. Take him outside in the sun. Listen to him and talk to him. Share his experiences with him. Explain to him about the doctor’s, staff, etc. Take him to activities, where I get him to participate. Turn down his bed, clean his teeth. Put him to bed when he requests it. Make sure he is dressed properly by talking to his niece and getting her and his other (responsible party, state volunteer) to buy him new clothes. (He had been wearing his dead sister’s clothes.) Rinaldo wanted to know how much money he had. I spoke to social services and got as much information as I could and explained it or had it told to Rinaldo. I never was able to find out where his pension was or who got it. I bought him food and juice and helped him eat it. I bought him a tape player and a CD player and played his favorite music. I danced and sang for him and laughed with him. If he was upset I would calm him. We shared so much because we were both stuck in this horrible place we had to call home. That is not all I did for him but, when I was doing these things he was teaching me about life, the past, present and future.

Another night of blaring televisions, lights, noisy fans, residents crying for help unanswered, alarms blaring unanswered, C.N.A.’s talking, laughing, joking. Now you have an idea of what it’s like to try and sleep here.

Rinaldo was so angry. He was calling for help, begging, pleading for someone to come. When they finally did he was so mad. This morning, he called for help because he was cold and no help is coming. The door to the outside is very often left open and so it’s either freezing in here or so hot you have to remove your clothes because at night they close the doors and turn on the heat. During the day no two rooms or the hall’s are the same temperature, ditto at night. It’s a great place to get sick but not be sick!

I have to ask for my medication because if I don’t ask or go to the charge nurse it’s not given when it should be, day or night.

A resident was banging his head on the wall because he hates this place. The inadequacies in the charge nurse and the C.N.A. handling him is appalling. They asked me to leave the situation because I don’t work here but they weren’t getting the job done and the poor resident. I worked in a mental hospital at eighteen, I’m an activity director, a peer counselor, dental assistant, schooled in exercise and weights in people over fifty, an artist, (my paintings are hanging in other countries) designer and held a real estate license and let’s not forget the seniors I’ve worked with and the businesses I owned. There’s more but that’s enough said.

Poor Rinaldo is so depressed about what transpired. He told me he used to be happy all the time and was never the way he is now. I worked with him all morning finally getting him to laugh but, he is smart enough to know what is going on and that things don’t change here. So many unhappy people, waiting for help that may or may not come and if it does come it’s not in a timely way, or not what the residents need or want. It is horrible to witness their suffering.

I have three friends I have known for over forty years, Pearl, Dorothy and May. One of them, Pearl phoned me to tell me they had looked on their computer and seen