Thursday, 08 November 2007
A Second Chance at Life
By 87-year-old Georgie Bright Kunkel, freelance writer and standup comic
Who was it said that for the $l0,000 or more that it costs for a month in some skilled nursing centers one could live really well at the Ritz Hotel? [EDITOR’S NOTE: See Let’s Retire to the Hilton]
Actually it is no laughing matter - the end of life with its indignities and pathos. An old friend recently remarked, “Yes, friends send the Get Well card, but in the end they rarely come by to visit and keep you company.
I would not believe that friends would truly abandon us and as luck would have it, they haven’t. Cards and emails and phone calls have come our way along with truly genuine offers of help. I cannot tell you what a day of housecleaning or the mowing of the back yard has meant to my well being.
Offers to join a friend for dinner and offers to share The New York Times and other interesting reading material has kept my mind off my husband’s plight after I spend hours each day in an environment which is not home base - even if the residents at the care home watch every baseball game on the big wall TV screen.
Well, all except one who recently celebrated her 109th birthday sitting in her recliner chair.
How can this be a way to continue a marriage, being separated because a husband needs care which a wife cannot provide at home? Well, there is a way.
There are businesses that survey your home and give estimates on how to make it wheelchair friendly. The doorways could be remodeled and a wheelchair ramp could be built out the front door and round-the-clock assistance could be hired.
$20 an hour for one health care worker for 24 hours a day for a month would cost $14,400. This would not cover skilled nursing service, a lift to help move the patient, the meals, laundry, pedicures, haircuts, hospital bed, catheter equipment, incontinence supplies and numerous other pharmaceutical needs.
With the pressures of supervising this arrangement, romance would probably not be in the equation. The kiss on the cheek and the “I love you” would be reduced to calls for the bed pan or help to get onto the commode.
Men are usually the ones who become the patient leaving a majority of older women caring for spouses and eventually widowed. No wonder that women in their older years have traditionally bonded with each other in friendship for support. Left alone in old age thrusts them into a life of turning to other women who are also alone. I remember my mother telling about my father dying and leaving her, pregnant, with eight children still at home to support.
My memory goes back to a time when my mother had a gentleman caller. I once overheard a friend asking my mother if she ever intended to get married again. Mother replied, “Certainly not. I have enough to cook and clean for as it is.”
And so the sands of time are now falling into the bottom of my hourglass of life, suggesting to me that I may become an older woman without a mate. And just as I had begun to think of this life possibility, for the first time I recalled what my husband’s neurologist once said to him: “You need to become more self sufficient. You depend upon your wife for too much. After all, she may be the one to die first.”
And so I cherish the time spent with my partner, as un-private as it may be in our present circumstance. Even if complete recovery may not be possible, we have been given a second chance at living and loving and we must make the most of it.
And so I bring the crossword puzzle to share with my husband every day. I play on the keyboard that our granddaughter loaned us so that my husband can enjoy all the songs we sang in the nineteen forties. I throw the beach ball to my husband so he can catch and throw in order to restore his waning coordination. We kiss each other and whisper sweet nothings into each other’s ears, even knowing the room is bugged for health monitoring purposes.
No way will I lose this opportunity to partner with my husband even if our 59th wedding anniversary was spent in the ER at Harborview Hospital. We still have each other. I don’t want to consider the alternative just yet.
Posted by Ronni Bennett at 05:30 AM | Permalink | Email this post
Comments
Bless you both -- you are in my prayers.
Posted by: Kay Dennison on Nov 8, 2007 7:26:31 AM
You are courageous as well as being able to count your blessings instead of moaning about when might have been. I do admire you, Georgie. Thank you for your e-mail. Good luck in your comedy gigs.
Posted by: Darlene on Nov 8, 2007 8:46:34 AM
Georgie,
I know you love comedy and I love reading about you and your beloved husband. I just heard a funny story you might enjoy.
A woman told a fellow guest at the nursing home that she had a way of telling how old a person was.
"How do you do that?" he asked.
"I have to feel certain parts of your body. You will have to let me put my hand down the front of your pants."
"O.K. Go ahead."
So, she puts her hand down his pants and feels all around for about 2 minutes then shouts," You are 87 years old."
"That's right,how did you know?"
"You told me yesterday."
Posted by: Nancy on Nov 8, 2007 9:07:00 AM
Georgie, having recently become the caregiver for my husband (although he is progressing towards full health nicely) I know what you are writing about. I do hope that your husband will be well, and if not, that you have many woman friends to lean upon.
Posted by: kenju on Nov 8, 2007 9:31:25 AM
How delightful that you find a moment of magic instead of misery. Thank you. What a wonderful way to think.
Posted by: Mage on Nov 8, 2007 10:12:25 AM
Thanks for your Email, Georgie. I'm so happy you liked the story and can use it in your act.
Good Luck.
Posted by: Nancy on Nov 8, 2007 1:18:02 PM
What a wonderful piece Georgie. It takes strength, courage, understanding, love, and humor to get through these kind of days. It looks like you have everything it takes. Bless you and your husband...and all those 59 beautiful years together.
Posted by: Joy on Nov 8, 2007 6:26:01 PM
This was a great testament to whats to come of us..and how we might be able to bring a smile to a friend or families day. Having just gone through similar things with my mom who just passed one week ago..Sharing a smile, a cup of coffee can mean so much. Bless you and may the time given be enjoyed. As it seems it is..
Thanks for sharing.
Dorothy from grammology
remember to call your grandma
Posted by: Dorothy Stahlnecker on Nov 10, 2007 10:08:37 AM
I know well of what you speak in terms of cost, trying to help a loved one remain independent. No less challenging is trying to find truly competent sensitive caregivers unless there are no limits on the salary that can be paid to them.
Seeking privacy in the setting you describe for intimate moments is generally a challenge, as you say. I believe couples should have provisions made to allow for that togetherness, but not all living arrangements are accommodating in that regard.
You might discuss with the Social Services Director, and/or Administrator how much just having a location the two of you could share together away from others would mean, even if all you do is sit in silence for a time.
There may be a patient council in which such matters could be introduced, as there might well be others who would desire the same. After all, not everyone's regular room is private. Many are shared.
There are so many considerations in selecting care homes away from home that only after we've taken up residence do we begin to recognize some of the little matters we had taken for granted throughout our life. Gradually those differences become pronounced once our new daily life begins.
Posted by: joared on Nov 16, 2007 1:50:38 AM
