Billie Jean Dancing Senior Citizens:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dIsLsDXXJUE&feature=related
Friday, October 8, 2010
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Random tidbits . . .
My father, now traveling in cars as a passenger, vehemently argues with the GPS voice when it gives directions. He thinks it's my mother trying to tell him when to turn, and "dammit, that's not the best way to get there!"
My mother has to get unpleasant catheters inserted due to chronic infections, and the nurses don't always aim so well. She is using a Sharpie marker on her privates to draw an arrow with the suggested path.
No more talk of moving out of the house. At least in Mom's case, she is probably no longer eligible for an independent living situation and would have to go straight to assisted living. The wait continues for the inevitable crisis and I jump when the phone rings late at night.
My mother has to get unpleasant catheters inserted due to chronic infections, and the nurses don't always aim so well. She is using a Sharpie marker on her privates to draw an arrow with the suggested path.
No more talk of moving out of the house. At least in Mom's case, she is probably no longer eligible for an independent living situation and would have to go straight to assisted living. The wait continues for the inevitable crisis and I jump when the phone rings late at night.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Cultural Sensitivity
Ponder the following events I’ve recently attended in Seattle:
Viking Days – an outdoor festival of many elderly Norwegians and Swedes reveling in their lingonberry pancakes – and it’s silent. Strangely silent. Pete had to explain to me that it was the sound of Scandanavians not expressing their feelings, and it was fine.
Indian Days Pow Wow – summer in Seattle with hundreds of elderly Native Americans wearing feathers, fur and down parkas, beating on drums – smiling, unlike the Norwegians – but also relatively silent.
Now, back to my roots, where I’m watching the longest running Woody Allen movie – my parents are very, very noisy, and it seems normal.
The latest – unwilling to part with any of their piles (see related news stories I’ve posted about hoarding), and desiring a place the size of a bowling alley, my parents have retreated into resistance and denial once again. There was a brief chapter where home-based nurses or cleaners were considered, mostly because the price tag seemed like a bargain compared to a residential facility. However, that phase has passed for now. I’ve been trying to prod them with active listening – “and what do you think will happen next”? “how does that make you feel”? It doesn’t work well with people who refuse to use technology such as hearing aids or a phone built after 1970.
I’m monitoring from afar, worrying about the next crisis, hoping they stay relatively safe.
Viking Days – an outdoor festival of many elderly Norwegians and Swedes reveling in their lingonberry pancakes – and it’s silent. Strangely silent. Pete had to explain to me that it was the sound of Scandanavians not expressing their feelings, and it was fine.
Indian Days Pow Wow – summer in Seattle with hundreds of elderly Native Americans wearing feathers, fur and down parkas, beating on drums – smiling, unlike the Norwegians – but also relatively silent.
Now, back to my roots, where I’m watching the longest running Woody Allen movie – my parents are very, very noisy, and it seems normal.
The latest – unwilling to part with any of their piles (see related news stories I’ve posted about hoarding), and desiring a place the size of a bowling alley, my parents have retreated into resistance and denial once again. There was a brief chapter where home-based nurses or cleaners were considered, mostly because the price tag seemed like a bargain compared to a residential facility. However, that phase has passed for now. I’ve been trying to prod them with active listening – “and what do you think will happen next”? “how does that make you feel”? It doesn’t work well with people who refuse to use technology such as hearing aids or a phone built after 1970.
I’m monitoring from afar, worrying about the next crisis, hoping they stay relatively safe.
Elderly woman found dead in trash-filled Skokie, Ill., home
Chicago Tribune July 21, 2010
CHICAGO -- A 79-year-old Skokie, Ill., woman was found dead Monday night in a home so crammed with trash, police said a hole had to be cut in the roof to reach the woman. Marie Davis was found under a pile of debris in the single-family home in the Chicago suburb, officials said. Skokie police were called to the house Monday and saw the woman's 54-year-old daughter at the front door, sitting on a 6-foot pile of garbage and screaming for help, according to Skokie Police Cmdr. Michael Ruth. The woman told police her elderly mother was dead inside, Ruth said. "There was so much garbage, it left about 2 feet of space between the pile and the ceiling. Apparently there were tunnels and the residents had to crawl on top of the debris to get around," he said.
CHICAGO -- A 79-year-old Skokie, Ill., woman was found dead Monday night in a home so crammed with trash, police said a hole had to be cut in the roof to reach the woman. Marie Davis was found under a pile of debris in the single-family home in the Chicago suburb, officials said. Skokie police were called to the house Monday and saw the woman's 54-year-old daughter at the front door, sitting on a 6-foot pile of garbage and screaming for help, according to Skokie Police Cmdr. Michael Ruth. The woman told police her elderly mother was dead inside, Ruth said. "There was so much garbage, it left about 2 feet of space between the pile and the ceiling. Apparently there were tunnels and the residents had to crawl on top of the debris to get around," he said.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
News Story: Chicago couple found buried alive under trash
from Associated Press 5-26-10:
Fire crews investigating a mysterious stench found an elderly couple buried alive under mounds of garbage in their Chicago home, authorities said Tuesday. The couple, in their seventies, were found Monday night, fire department spokesman Larry Langford said. The fire department team forced in the door of the South Side home and found an overpowering smell, piles of food waste and trash. A spokesman for Jackson Park Hospital, Margo Brooks, said the two were admitted and remained listed in critical condition at noon Tuesday.
Police had initially been called to the two-flat apartment building by neighbors who had not seen the couple in some time and wondered about their welfare. Police called in the fire department because of the stench and the team that entered wore hazardous materials suits. An 83-year-old neighbor, Hattie Fields, said the couple had lived in the building for years. Police declined to identify the couple. "I've been here since 1965 and I can't remember if they were here then or not," she said.
She said that she used to see the woman sitting on the front porch as she walked by but no longer could because the hedges had not been trimmed for years and had grown level with the second floor of the building, obscuring the view. She said she was fairly certain that no one else lived in the building, although there were unoccupied apartments on the first floor and in the basement. She said signs of neglect were obvious. "The back yard is also full of debris," she said. She said she used to see the man going out and getting in his truck to go to work in the morning, although not lately.
Fire crews investigating a mysterious stench found an elderly couple buried alive under mounds of garbage in their Chicago home, authorities said Tuesday. The couple, in their seventies, were found Monday night, fire department spokesman Larry Langford said. The fire department team forced in the door of the South Side home and found an overpowering smell, piles of food waste and trash. A spokesman for Jackson Park Hospital, Margo Brooks, said the two were admitted and remained listed in critical condition at noon Tuesday.
Police had initially been called to the two-flat apartment building by neighbors who had not seen the couple in some time and wondered about their welfare. Police called in the fire department because of the stench and the team that entered wore hazardous materials suits. An 83-year-old neighbor, Hattie Fields, said the couple had lived in the building for years. Police declined to identify the couple. "I've been here since 1965 and I can't remember if they were here then or not," she said.
She said that she used to see the woman sitting on the front porch as she walked by but no longer could because the hedges had not been trimmed for years and had grown level with the second floor of the building, obscuring the view. She said she was fairly certain that no one else lived in the building, although there were unoccupied apartments on the first floor and in the basement. She said signs of neglect were obvious. "The back yard is also full of debris," she said. She said she used to see the man going out and getting in his truck to go to work in the morning, although not lately.
Monday, May 17, 2010
It was supposed to be Moving Day
I should have known it wasn’t going to be this easy. If my parents don’t die peacefully in their sleep, I may consider killing them. No, not really.
To get up to date, a few significant events have transpired. First: my mother went into panic mode about moving to a retirement facility while my father was all gung-ho – a complete reversal of their stance 6 months ago. They cancelled the apartment, got back their deposit, and created a lot of drama. Second: they attempted to get the house ready for sale by hiring a contractor, which was a sobering challenge and only unveiled the tip of the iceberg. As soon as the wall cracks were repaired, there was a 7.2 earthquake in Mexico which created – you guessed it, more cracks. Mom felt the ground shaking, got dizzy, assumed her diabetes drugs weren’t working, and called the doctor to complain about the strength of her prescriptions. Third: Mom switched her primary care physician to someone more inclined to listen to her complaints (but located many miles away, requiring HMO-supplied transportation).
I tried a new tactic – offered to personally take ALL the stuff, so nothing would get dumped in a landfill or God-forbid another Goodwill bin; it would just be magically transported to my attic in Seattle. Yes, it was a little white lie. Mom’s response – “Why would you want all that junk?” This stumped me for a bit (why is she hanging on to 50 years of broken plastic if she knows it’s crap – clearly, it’s about security and memories, not the things).
Yesterday she told me that my father will only accept a community offering 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, large walk-in closets, 3 giant meals a day, etc. These places might exist for rich celebrities, but not for the common man. Of course the idea of anyone entering their current home to help clean or cook is simply not acceptable.
So where does that leave the story? Well I’m not offering any assistance or opinions for a while. Instead of visiting my parents, I’m going camping with friends in a heated yurt on the coastline of Washington (thank you Lisa). I’m waiting for the inevitable call about a fall or a heart attack, which will decide their fate. It’s not an amusing way to end this post, but it’s unfortunately it’s the next likely chapter in their lives.
To get up to date, a few significant events have transpired. First: my mother went into panic mode about moving to a retirement facility while my father was all gung-ho – a complete reversal of their stance 6 months ago. They cancelled the apartment, got back their deposit, and created a lot of drama. Second: they attempted to get the house ready for sale by hiring a contractor, which was a sobering challenge and only unveiled the tip of the iceberg. As soon as the wall cracks were repaired, there was a 7.2 earthquake in Mexico which created – you guessed it, more cracks. Mom felt the ground shaking, got dizzy, assumed her diabetes drugs weren’t working, and called the doctor to complain about the strength of her prescriptions. Third: Mom switched her primary care physician to someone more inclined to listen to her complaints (but located many miles away, requiring HMO-supplied transportation).
I tried a new tactic – offered to personally take ALL the stuff, so nothing would get dumped in a landfill or God-forbid another Goodwill bin; it would just be magically transported to my attic in Seattle. Yes, it was a little white lie. Mom’s response – “Why would you want all that junk?” This stumped me for a bit (why is she hanging on to 50 years of broken plastic if she knows it’s crap – clearly, it’s about security and memories, not the things).
Yesterday she told me that my father will only accept a community offering 3 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, large walk-in closets, 3 giant meals a day, etc. These places might exist for rich celebrities, but not for the common man. Of course the idea of anyone entering their current home to help clean or cook is simply not acceptable.
So where does that leave the story? Well I’m not offering any assistance or opinions for a while. Instead of visiting my parents, I’m going camping with friends in a heated yurt on the coastline of Washington (thank you Lisa). I’m waiting for the inevitable call about a fall or a heart attack, which will decide their fate. It’s not an amusing way to end this post, but it’s unfortunately it’s the next likely chapter in their lives.
Objects of Accumulation
This article has inspired me to get back to blogging! Thanks to Kathy for finding it and Larry for sending the link.
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/25/magazine/25lives-t.html
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/25/magazine/25lives-t.html
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
