The Knee Bone's Connected To ...
tsb

Such a face! Daddy Bones@ age 12, gracing the book's cover.

 

 How to Keep Your Sanity Intact When a Loved One Needs a Nursing Home  

It’s estimated that more than 50 million people provide care for a chronically ill, disabled or aged family member or friend during any given year.

Studies show that extremely stressed caregivers can age or die prematurely. 

“Bette Davis said ‘old age is no place for sissies,’ but caring for an older loved one isn’t for the feint of heart, either,” says Bones. “I loved my dad and we were very close, but the strain of ‘putting’ him in a nursing home was so overwhelming for all of us that I felt like I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.”

Becoming aware of some of the don’ts” of long-term care can make daily life easier for nursing home residents and for their family caretakers,” she notes.

Bones offers some key examples from her Nursing Home Checklist:

· Ask clergy, family, and friends - especially those in the health care field - to recommend outstanding nursing homes.

· When touring a nursing home, ask other visitors for frank feedback about the facility. Don’t just inspect the “sample” room, look into residents’ rooms to check for cleanliness.

· Assure your loved one that you will be their ongoing advocate.

· Visit your loved one often and at varying times of the day - and night. This alerts all of the caregivers that you are keeping an eye on your loved one.

· Get to know the staff, especially your loved one’s immediate caregivers.

· Thank the employees for the thankless job that they do.

· Put your loved one’s name on all their belongings, including clothes and personal products. Never leave money or valuables in their room.

· Place a quilt, photos and other small touches to create a “homey” room.

· Put a brief bio and picture of your loved one at the entrance of their room to “introduce” them to staff and visitors.

. Bring old photos when you visit your loved one - it will give you something to look at if conversation lags.

. Bring different edible treats to spice-up the resident's menu.

 

 


 

 

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Wednesday
Aug242016

Cursing That Little Red-Headed Girl...

Every time I spot a piece of litter on the ground, I blame it on the little red-headed girl who bullied her way into the neighborhood. 

And let me tell ya, I see a LOT of litter.

Like, every...single... day.

And many a time, the trash has a picture of that little girl on it...

It was several years ago when the corporate meanies razed a beautiful Victorian home around the corner and replaced it with a Wendy's fast food franchise. 

We neighbors ranted and raved at civic meetings, swearing that the demolition of the historic structure was an abomination and that we'd eat raw beef before we'd let that smiling red-headed corporate symbol plant roots in our little corner of the world. 

But, alas, despite our wringing of hands, the Wendy's people - and their very well-dressed layers - won.

And before you knew it, where a glorious home stood for a hundred years sprung a boxy, single-story building that was shiny but utterly putrid.

I felt powerless to stop Wendy's arrival, but vowed to do my part by never stepping foot into the place.

But have no fear, America, business is BOOMING.

Seems like every time I pass by the place, there is a snakelike line of vehicles at the take-out window. The customers love to sit in their cars, yell their burger preference into a speaker and wheel on over to pick up their Wendy booty. (It's estimated that the majority of customers - 57 percent - at hamburger fast food joints can't bear the thoughts of actually walking in to grab a bite to eat and instead use the drive-thru window.) 

Then - or so it seems - the whole gang throws their Wendy's wrappers out their car window and onto the ground.

I see it every morning when I go for a walk. A wrapper here, a cup there, a napkin everywhere.

Of course, it's not only Wendy's litter I see.

 Yeah, even though the nearest Mickey D's is miles away, news and garbage travel fast.

So I'm sorry, little Wendy, for picking on you. 

It's just that I knew you'd have a real impact on my surroundings, and not in a good way. I have no bias against your famous Frosty or your Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger, but I do have a problem with picking up the remnants that your customers love to toss away like confetti. 

In the ultimate NIMBY (Not In My Back Yard) mentality, I would have preferred it if you opened up elsewhere, like next to your franchise owner's suburban five-bedroom, three bath colonial. 

Today, pardon me for saying so, was the last straw.

Curses to you, little red-headed girl, and all the calories, crassness and rubbish that you represent. 

 

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