Ageism 2

Ageism and Cousin Elizabeth - My Experience

Part 2 of Ageism. See Part 1 or continue to Part 3.

My elderly 3rd cousin, once removed resides in an extended care facility 60 miles from my home. OK, blood is thicker than water, so I decided to spend one Saturday visiting her. As I sat in my car in front of the facility, willing myself to go inside, I observed and mentally appraised the building and landscaping - the visual impact - and the emotional impact. The facility is a disheartening one story stucco building with no ornamentation or architectural interest.

It was built, probably in the architecturally unimaginative sixties or seventies, to be a no-nonsense, artless, and utilitarian structure. The builders accomplished their goals. The side walk running up to the main entrance from the parking lot is broken and discolored by many years of use and thorough neglect. It appears that the sidewalk had long ago been forsaken as not worth the effort to maintain or enhance. Perhaps, I am being too judgmental. The administrators may not have noticed the unsightly disrepair. In which case - what else did they overlook?

In past years, some kind soul had planted azaleas around the foundation of the bland building, probably hoping the splashes of color and beauty would brighten the aging inhabitants' spirits. This was no doubt a burst of kindness, meant to create a more genteel and refined environment evocative of the Old South - of home. The azaleas are now spindly and ragged, though still struggling to survive in unforgiving conditions. I could not help reflecting - do the residents feel a kinship? I felt sad.

Inside

When I peered through the front door into a spacious room I was very nearly encouraged. The sizeable room into which I passed was pleasingly furnished with traditional, overstuffed seating arranged in thoughtful conversational groupings. Mismatched, serviceable lamps were placed on tables around the room to make reading less worrisome for elderly eyes. A massive 1940's piano pressed heavily against one wall.

The room was intentionally homey and it offered visitors and tenants a relaxed, though uninspired, lived-in atmosphere. I wondered if this was merely window dressing meant to influence (and soften guilt) on first sight or simply indicative of the characteristic warmth of the home. I was unconvinced.

Clinical Setting

As I looked for my 3rd cousin, once removed, Miss Elizabeth, I wandered down a maze of halls reminiscent of an unfashionable hospital moving determinedly toward decline. How could the elderly dwellers find their way around in this baffling structure when I was seriously considering leaving bread crumbs to find my way out? I finally found Cousin Elizabeth after humbly requesting directions twice.

Two ladies, I could describe as "octogenarian," lived in this small room (14 feet by 14 feet approximately) with an adjoining tiny bath. Cousin Elizabeth was sitting in a wooden chair, similar to a padded dining chair with arms, holding a book - Charles Dickens' Olive Twist. She held the book during the entire time I was there, but never opened it. Cousin Elizabeth did not speak. Her eyes appeared confused and questioning and they seemed to say that she no longer understood the world in which she found herself.

Cousin Elizabeth has a mild to moderate case of Alzheimer's disease - which I had not realized. Under the circumstances, she was justly mystified about who I was and why I was there. I was distraught when I grasped the situation. My sudden appearance was doubtless more of a disturbance than a source of pleasurable kinship bonding.

The other occupant was probably the more elderly of the two ladies and did not appear to be aware of my presence. She simply stared into a place I could not share - perhaps, she was gazing into a more pleasing time. I sincerely hope so. She did not speak while I was there, hence I can only speculate.

My emotions fluctuated. I bounded around from gloomy, to concerned, to confused, to sympathetic, to distraught, to powerless and back again. An attendant came in once and straightened the lady who was not Cousin Elizabeth in her chair - she had begun to slide down in a most alarming way and I was not certain I was capable of preventing her descent.

Continue to Part 3 - Do You Want to Be Here?

Tell A Friend • Comment • Print • Feedback

This is part two of a series on Ageism. See part 1 - Ageism and Cousin Elizabeth or go to part 3 Ageism and Cousin Elizabeth - Do You Want to Be Here?.