Goin' to the doctor...
Some of us know the joy of going along on one of the many doctor appointments the old folks seem to have. They have a "regular doctor", a skin doctor, a back doctor, a bone doctor, an eye doctor, an eye surgeon. Some have a lung doctor, a kidney doctor, or a cancer doctor...oh yeah, and the male parts doctor...I don't hear about the female parts doctor in my house. Seems like that has been forgotten these days (probably in more ways than one...).
Mom has an "old people doctor" - a gerontologist. She used to go to Yale's Geriatric Clinic when first diagnosed, however the folks there weren't really personable enough for my Dad, and never returned his calls. They also put in writing that Mom could no longer drive. Dad has a phobia of bridges, so when going back and forth between CT and FL, he had Mom drive for stretches that included bridges. When my sister and I found out about that, well, we asked the Nurse Practitioner about it and she put the kabosh on it right quick!
We found this guy in Shelton. He's pretty decent, very personal with Mom, remembers her and usually writes up whatever his suggestions are for care so there's no squirreliness allowed with Dad not being entirely truthful about Mom's needs. His office is now in the midst of a very large elder community that includes Assisted Living, full Nursing facility, supported apartment housing for the elderly.
Today, we get there - the foyer looks like a freakin' Hilton in the city, with a large Christmas tree, lots of high end decorations, a train going around the ceiling! I finally talk the woman at the desk into contacting the doctor's office. Her ability seemed to directly challenge the professional and welcoming look of the place. She did NOT want us there, that was for sure. We all dressed pretty well, and didn't smell, but who knows?
Dad tried to chat up the woman at the desk, asking her how much a place like this cost, monthly. The woman said, "You can't afford it." Well, that's what Dad said...although I could have told him the same thing! Mom and I are looking around while we waited for Dad to try all sorts of other ways to get her to chat about the place. Mom said, "I'm not staying here, am I?" Her face went all nasty. "Nope, Ma, we're just here because Doc is here now." "Oh, good, these people are all old." "Yeah, Ma, I know."
Dressed well, with walkers, oxygen, carrying around their pocketbooks, we saw about twenty or so women, maybe two men. If you doubt the statistics, go to any elderly facility to observe! There was a lot going on, according to the board on the easel (just like a hotel!). The menu looked pretty decent too. It does feel surreal to be there with your parents, one hates the whole idea of it, and the other wants in!
One of my friends asked me if there were cool colors, like surrealism in art - Max Ernst, Dali, one of those folks. There are colors, for sure...not sure how cool they are though. It was the whole hotel aspect, with the obvious care needed by these folks that really set it into surrealism for me. Then I shared this with my son.
"Why don't they just go to college, and share a dorm room? Gotta be cheaper, right? Room and board...they could go to classes. All three meals included."
Yeah, why not?
Mom has an "old people doctor" - a gerontologist. She used to go to Yale's Geriatric Clinic when first diagnosed, however the folks there weren't really personable enough for my Dad, and never returned his calls. They also put in writing that Mom could no longer drive. Dad has a phobia of bridges, so when going back and forth between CT and FL, he had Mom drive for stretches that included bridges. When my sister and I found out about that, well, we asked the Nurse Practitioner about it and she put the kabosh on it right quick!
We found this guy in Shelton. He's pretty decent, very personal with Mom, remembers her and usually writes up whatever his suggestions are for care so there's no squirreliness allowed with Dad not being entirely truthful about Mom's needs. His office is now in the midst of a very large elder community that includes Assisted Living, full Nursing facility, supported apartment housing for the elderly.
Today, we get there - the foyer looks like a freakin' Hilton in the city, with a large Christmas tree, lots of high end decorations, a train going around the ceiling! I finally talk the woman at the desk into contacting the doctor's office. Her ability seemed to directly challenge the professional and welcoming look of the place. She did NOT want us there, that was for sure. We all dressed pretty well, and didn't smell, but who knows?
Dad tried to chat up the woman at the desk, asking her how much a place like this cost, monthly. The woman said, "You can't afford it." Well, that's what Dad said...although I could have told him the same thing! Mom and I are looking around while we waited for Dad to try all sorts of other ways to get her to chat about the place. Mom said, "I'm not staying here, am I?" Her face went all nasty. "Nope, Ma, we're just here because Doc is here now." "Oh, good, these people are all old." "Yeah, Ma, I know."
Dressed well, with walkers, oxygen, carrying around their pocketbooks, we saw about twenty or so women, maybe two men. If you doubt the statistics, go to any elderly facility to observe! There was a lot going on, according to the board on the easel (just like a hotel!). The menu looked pretty decent too. It does feel surreal to be there with your parents, one hates the whole idea of it, and the other wants in!
One of my friends asked me if there were cool colors, like surrealism in art - Max Ernst, Dali, one of those folks. There are colors, for sure...not sure how cool they are though. It was the whole hotel aspect, with the obvious care needed by these folks that really set it into surrealism for me. Then I shared this with my son.
"Why don't they just go to college, and share a dorm room? Gotta be cheaper, right? Room and board...they could go to classes. All three meals included."
Yeah, why not?
Comments
Post a Comment