8/20/06: For quite a while my father enjoyed moving from nursing home to nursing home, from room to room. He was always hopeful, I think, that he'd be less bored. Even at 93, his mind pretty well gone, he still complains he bored. And the staff still marvel at his vocabulary and skills. But they don't engage him in any way. Nursing homes are awful places.
I moved my father from the Fairfield to the Hebrew Home when the Fairfield was sold to a private nursing home company. The Hebrew Home had owned it. I don't know if the new version of the Fairfield was a good place after the transfer, but I do know that staff started quitting right away. A bad sign. I loved the Fairfield - by far my favorite nursing home.
My father died peacefully on February 6, 2012. I had arrived a few hours before he died, so I had time to sit by him and talk and even moisten his lips with the long-promised scotch I had with me. I don't know if he heard me, but he smacked his lips from the scotch, My father had Alzheimer's and had donated his brain to the Alzheimer's study he'd been part of at Columbia Presbyterian Medical Center. I'll continue to post for a while.
Sunday, August 20, 2006
dad & I at the Hebrew Home: newly arrived
Labels:
alzheimer's,
dad,
dementia,
elderly,
father,
Hebrew Home for the Aged,
nursing home,
parent,
room
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