Tuesday, September 30, 2014
The Space Between Sickness And Death
I am talking of the modern day nursing home.
The allegations of abuse and neglect abound. The New York Times is littered with stories and editorials claiming inappropriate use of medications. The view of nursing home owners is a bunch of fat cats, deceiving our elderly and neglecting the flesh in favor of the all important bank account biopsy. And no doubt, as with any reputation, some of this is true.
Nursing homes endure, however, because there is no other setting for such patients. Long after the hospital has discharged and the family has gone home, someone has to take responsibility for our most downtrodden: the poor, the frail, and those maimed by disease. The extraordinary complexity of the average nursing home patient has leaped forward over the last few decades. The staff pivot from the average knee replacement rehabilitation to a paraplegic with a stage four pressure ulcer, TPN, and no understanding of the meaning of a polst form or DNR designation.
Our society has chosen to see ultimate darkness in this place it so desperately needs. Yet, if we are searching for humanity, we must crawl into the places that no light is willing to shine. We must wade through the morass and stench of human depravity. Down here in the space between sickness and death you will find us. On our knees.
CNAs, nurses, social workers, administrators, dietitians, therapists, and yes physicians.
Singing, crying, laughing, and comforting.
Perhaps holding your loved one's hand.
Posted by Jordan Grumet at 3:59 PM