Twenty Kilo Walk

Mr D used to be a top sales-person for a ball bearing company worldwide. He and his wife moved in early in 2013 in an enhanced care suite on the second floor. This meant he had 24 hour care due to a high degree of dementia. One day during his first week Mr D walked past the 2^nd floor staff desk, got into the elevator and then past the concierge desk in the main lobby and into the streets of the city. The GM noticed him walking and since we were all busy she accompanied Mr D to ensure he returned. It was a warm morning fortunately, but the GM had high-heels on and was alone with a very large gentleman. I received a call asking me to go looking and attempt to get them back with the van. I searched downtown streets and found them not far from the residence. However, he was having nothing to do with the van. Apparently he believed he was required in Dartmouth and was on his way to the Ferry Terminal to meet someone. He had walked with the boss for almost 20 K before the family was contacted and allowed us to utilize the police force to get him back. Needless to say stricter rules were put in place on both the 2^nd floor and lobby staff to ensure he had someone with him on his impromptu walks. I have personally seen four care workers (some students) walking with Mr. D. He has become more comfortable now and long walks have shortened considerably with his current staff companion. Don has been moved to another seniors residence due to finances.  He passed away (as did his wife) early in 2015 while in the new 'home'.

Twist and Plop with a Laugh

Ms H is restricted to a wheelchair but can get out of that chair with guidance to another seat. Standing is impossible for any length of time. Her trips in the van are primarily to get her to Elegant Touch hairdressers on Quinpool Road.

Every trip is a pleasure! When she is wheeled to the van and the steps are taken to stand her up, she gently twists herself around, leans back into the van and plops into the seat. She can lift herself with the handles to look forward. I then buckle her up, put her wheelchair in the back, and away we go.

Conversation is usually about the weather or traffic or the fact that she is so happy “to get out for awhile”. We arrive and in reverse order I get her chair, open the door, help her stand then she twists and laughingly plops into her chair to be wheeled into the salon.

Such an attitude is refreshing when you think that her entire life is in a “seat” of some kind. Her smile is fantastic and her company an inspiration.

Slightly before Christmas in 2013 and only months after she arrived she took a fall, was sent to hospital and never came back. I attended her memorial in January of 2014 – a solemn occasion but a wonderful remembrance of her life. I’ll miss Ms H.

Chompers and Church

Ms J is a faithful churchgoer and a loving person. When one first meets her, her gentle smile instantly calms and encourages conversation. She was the wife of prominent dentist in Halifax who has gone before her and she comments on him often. Our trips to the shopping centre so she can sit with her “buddies” or trips to the Church so she can attend meetings are always filled with comments on her late husband and the condition of the world.

One of the first days she was at the residence, and I will always remember it, she had booked the van to go to the Church for a regular meeting. As she was feeling light-headed in the warmth inside she decided to step outside to wait for me to load another person on the opposite side of the van. When I rounded the front of the van to get the door for Ms J, I looked to my left at the gate to the terrace and only saw two feet pointing up from the limestone sidewalk. Ms J had fainted and leaned back into gate that was ajar and landed millimeters from the corner of a stack of limestone. First responders immediately tended to her and 911 paramedics took her under their capable wings. I waved to her as she got into the ambulance and said she was in good hands. She calmly replied with a genuine “thank you”. And she added with a smile “I guess I don’t have to attend that meeting after all.”

[It is with such occurrences that one realizes the importance of such facilities. It was the eye-opener for me and I became doubly alert and I tend to each resident individually]

Psychology of the Front Seat

The three of us walked out to the van. I opened the front door and the side door. The van is configured to hold 7 with me, so three is a comfort number most used for the seniors at the residence. I stood and waited for the two to make it through the exit doors and stand next to the van. One looked at the other; I looked at one then the other; we looked at the front seat and the discussion began. 

“It’s ok, you can sit up front” 

“Oh no, please take it, I can take the back seat – no problem” 

“it’s ok, really, the front is easier for you”

“ooh no, I insist” 

(see the parallel here to the chipmunks on Walt Disney cartoons?). 

 Finally after some time I had to pipe up and mention that we had better go and selected the lady standing closest to the front to sit in the front. The other was already seated behind her and off we finally went! That front seat means “not as crippled”, “not as old”, “able to bend the knees”, “closest to Paul”, “first one to get out” and so on and so on. The front seat has a status and is as important as the reason for the trip. In many cases I choose but in many ways I let the resident make his or her choice – it is all about respect in the end.

Regretful Comments

There are many times in every person’s life that he or she will say something and wish they had not. Well one morning, the winds were rather chilly shooting down College Street (as was the common problem with the city “wind tunnel”) and I had brought the bus around to get Ms N on the wheelchair lift. I had two other ladies coming along to go to hairdressing appointments and although the heat was blasting in the bus having both the back door and side passenger doors open let it slip on through. I had invited the faster moving ladies, Ms R and Ms A to get into the bus because Ms N was “on her way.” Time clicked by and after about 10 minutes one of the ladies, Ms A, was back inside saying it was too cold to sit on that bus and wait just as Ms N made it downstairs and I wheeled her to the bus and hoisted her in and buckled her up for her quick ride. Ms A saw all of this and as I started closing the doors she came speeding to the bus to get on while Ms R was “complaining” about the cold. I noticed the embarrassed look on Ms A’s face as she complained but she was not in a wheelchair and she soon realized how she must have sounded. I said very little during this as there was absolutely nothing I could have done that would have solved the problem until I closed all the doors. Then I cranked the heat and away we went. I think they noticed I was very quiet and had not let their comments slow me down as I concentrated on getting these ladies to where they needed to go and on time. That silence seemed to draw out some comments about the warmth of the sun and that the day wasn't too bad after all. The heat was now too much but they did not know how to tell me so I left it up. They regretted their comments that day and it never came up again. Ms N smiled through it all but then again she never knew all of this was going on.

The diversity of residents at the Residence works well in giving a different perspective to everyone at different levels of physical and mental capacity.

[The Van and the Bus are at each resident’s disposal and are included in their ‘rent’ – so when they book and get a free ride they forget just how convenient it is and at times take it for granted. The bus is large and not all that easy to get into but is used for wheelchairs or a group over three. The van is most comfortable with three and is the preferred vehicle. I often am asked to “please pick me up in the van if you can” to which I often reply “if I can”]

I should mention that when all was said and done and each was brought back home after their appointments every single lady was extremely pleased with the service. It is usually this that reminds me that everyone is at a stage in their ageing where they soon forget the 'drive to' and remember the 'drive back' and it is always “great”.

"Don’t Get Old"

Ms P came to us from Cape Breton, and each time she uses the van we talk about “home”. She seems to relax. But if you look into her face as she makes her way to the van or glance as she sits in the passenger seat, she shows signs of age and sadness. When she enters or leaves the van slowly or with the need for assistance she looks at me with those mid-eighty-year old eyes and says “Don’t get old, Paul”. There was one occasion that I helped her cope with her loneliness. She had wanted to see the ocean and missed the water, so I offered to take her to a park bench at Point Pleasant Park. She said she needed time to inhale the fresh air and think, and, the harbor was just the thing. I remember driving away that day and looking in my rear view mirror seeing this fine little lady sitting all alone on that bench looking over the vast harbor and looking so sad. Empathetic, I try to take her places that get her away from the four walls that close in on her daily. Lately she has been losing her sight but still came out on a Christmas Lights tour.

Dancing Queen

Ms F is a shy, very slightly statured lady, who was once a ball room dancer. In fact she told me she had a ball-room in her large house. Her state of worry is her greatest problem but as she relaxes with everything through the phenomenal help of the residence staff, she has embraced her days and takes each day at a time.

Each time she sees me standing at the door or driving to and fro she wants to make sure she says “hi”. She comments that when I talk to her I look her in the eye. We have a developed a relationship around her love of dancing and I will do a cha-cha step whenever I see her to her great happiness by her immediate smile or even a tear in her eye.

I had taken a vacation day in November 2013 on a Friday. I thought this would be a good day to visit the residence and show my sons my place of employment. After a fun tour of the building, its suites, golf centre, movie theatre, library, and dining room, we looked at a fourth floor suite just up from Ms F’s suite. Her care-worker heard my voice with my boys in the hallway and opened the door of Ms F’s suite and much to her surprise she was greeted by the three of us. Her eyes welled up with tears as we all said hello and she was obviously moved that we would take the time to visit her.

Loneliness turned to happiness and what a wonderful visit that was for all of us. Ms F took a turn for the worse in early 2015 and had to be moved from independent to the 3^rd floor extended care floor. This has taken a severe chunk from her enthusiasm and added more worry.  Early in the Fall of 2015 she was moved to a Dartmouth residence to be closer to her family.  I hate to think how she worried about that during and now after the move.

Re-Living a Loss

Mr J truly enjoys getting out on city tours or planned outings. He is currently on the 3^rd floor of the residence where he requires constant observation, but has the greatest personality and a sense of humour to allow him to mingle freely within the residence. On one occasion the Harmony team (responsible for wellness and harmony of every resident) organized a trip to Mahone Bay. J signed up with great excitement. He had property in East River and knew the south shore as home turf in an earlier time in his life. We departed at 1:07 p.m. and were on our way for a three hour drive. Coffee, tea, cream and fresh baked cookies were brought along.

Mr J came from a background of sales, and pharmacy was his education to work with his family in their pharmaceutical business. He was a married man with children but is now a widower grieving the loss of his wife and speaking to his children on occasion by phone or when they visit him on weekends.

While driving along at any time Mr J sits in the front seat of the bus. We chat about the weather, the houses, the traffic, and even the girls. We laugh when he makes a comment about something that strikes him funny – a car passing “must be in a hurry to go nowhere again”. But then there is a moment of silence – and when I glance to see how everyone is, J is deeply and sorrowfully weeping. This can last up to 5 minutes. When asked how he doing, he replies that he is “working through a few memories; no problem, thanks”. Mr J relives the death of his poor wife in his arms over and over several times a day, every day. [all part of his dementia]

All I can say at the time is that I am here if he needs anything. He responds with a smiling ‘thanks’. Mr J passed away late 2015. I sure miss that man!!

Knickers and Wisdom

Ms C. – a delightful lady with a strong British accent – uses my services on a weekly basis for her hairstyling and related beauty salon requirements. This one trip (on a usual Thursday morning at 10:00 a.m.) she was in a giggly mood as I escorted her to the van. The gurgled laughter continued as she told me that as she was preparing for the trip with me to her appointment she wanted to take care of everything before leaving – more giggles – but as she left her ‘loo’ (as she called it) she couldn’t believe that her “knickers were still at her knees. It was at this point that I had lost composure and we both laughed as we tried to imagine her arriving at the front entrance without fixing that most embarrassing oversight. I still smile as I think of her apologetically laughing almost all the way to Quinpool Road (an 8 minute ride). Ms C. is truly young at heart and enjoys each of these borrowed days.

That same day as I returned to drive Ms C back she talked about the cliques she noticed in the dining room back at the residence. She felt hurt as she noticed nine people reserving a table so as not to involve others who may be at a different financial situation or level of accomplishment. She made a profound statement that “each of us pays with the same green and we are only as good as our own achievements as opposed to those gained from hanging on to another’s coat-tails”. Such a profound statement!! (Ms C passed away May 2015.)