FROM THE EDITOR'S PEN
/ A Rich Life
/
Editorial List
I wrote a caregiver communiqué last winter to
highlight the challenges coping with senior falls
and what we would need to do to help our loved ones
live safely at home. My dear friend
Barbara Rich, who was the Betty in this story,
passed away last week, with her beloved daughter and
truly Fearless Caregiver Wendy (Donna in this story)
at her side. I’d like to share the story once again
in her honor. Our thoughts and prayers are with
Wendy and her family.
When I returned home to South Florida after
college in the early 80s, my close group of new
friends and neighbors included Betty. Betty was more
than 20 years older than the rest of us, but could
outthink, outdance and had more energy than any of
us.
Fast forward to a few years ago when I received a
call from Betty’s daughter Donna, who lives in a
neighboring county. She told me a horrific story
that culminated with Betty’s hospitalization and
admittance into a nursing home for rehabilitation.
The week earlier, Betty had fallen in the bathroom
and found herself jammed between the bathtub and the
commode. Betty was in her mid-70s and fiercely
independent; she did not have a medical alert system
and even refused to give Donna a key to her
apartment. After two days of not hearing from her
mom, Donna broke down her mother’s front door to
find her weak and dehydrated in the bathroom.
Unfortunately, Betty had become part of a
frightening statistic. Last year, 13.3 million
seniors have fallen at home and most in the
bathroom. According to the Centers for Disease
Control and Prevention, falls account for 25 percent
of all hospital admissions and 40 percent of all
nursing home admissions. Tragically, 40 percent of
those admitted do not return to independent living
and 25 percent die within a year.
Thankfully, Betty will recover. But the greatest
damage the fall caused was not to her body, but to
her confidence. Since the fall, Betty has not
ventured far from her apartment. She seems
frailer than ever before and, even though the
therapist insists that she does not need the walker
anymore, she refuses to give it up.
I can do no more than wish Betty had a medical alert
system in place when she fell, but am grateful she
has one today. My holiday wish for you is that you
take the time to analyze if your loved one is in
need of “Transparent Caregiving” and if so, that you
start the conversation with them about installing a
system. It’s one conversation that shouldn’t
wait for the New Year.
On a side note, I have been hearing Barbara’s
lilting laugh in my mind all week. One reason to
smile.
Gary Barg
Editor-in-Chief
gary@caregiver.com