For the last four years and a bit, my mom has been in Level 4 care in Alberta. It has been an interesting time. As many readers may have experienced, Level 4 is the highest level of government-supported care for seniors.
Level 4 consists of around-the-clock attention in a nursing facility, with continuous medical monitoring and all meals, bathing, and recreation provided and managed in a loving, healthy environment. That vision is pitched by every government, regardless of understaffing or mounting concerns about care outcomes.
Unfortunately, in conversation with many families over the years and from personal observation, I have gathered a large case file of concerns about how Alberta care facilities operate.
There is a difference between what politicians preach and what the care industry sells to families, and it can be very divergent and dangerous. Yet, despite this divergence and the systemic deficiencies within the care system, there is a big group of people at care homes who make the system work. And this group of people do a very good job with little recognition. It is all the hands-on care people, the Health Care Aides, Licensed Practical Nurses and Registered Nurses, that interact directly with residents.
These hands-on caregivers deal with the extreme physical frailty or harrowing mental anguish of residents who are, for all purposes, clinging to life and desperate for kindness. I challenge anyone to spend a bit of time walking through care homes to get a better appreciation of the very difficult task that society has entrusted to caregivers.
I’ve seen elderly women weeping quietly as they hold realistic baby dolls in their arms. I’ve seen others continually cry out for help, for their family, for someone. Others sit longingly for hours at windows looking at snow, at rain, at trees bending with the wind. Then, between those sorrowful scenes, there will be one, maybe two care workers dashing about, giving comfort and attention. Even if only for a few minutes, I am amazed at how the kind words or gentle touches of the care workers can stop a resident from weeping, or bring a smile for a few moments to another.
Politicians always promise more funding to support care, but I suspect that most of that “more money” doesn’t filter down past layers of consultants and management to the hands-on workers. In my opinion, what is needed and will be more appreciated is to have more of the working angels who have daily and direct contact with the residents.
It doesn’t cost much for human contact, but the compassion of that act is invaluable.
Far too often, the constraints of not having enough care personnel limit what services and attention care homes can provide. Caregivers are very often constrained to work to a minimum level decided by some over-degreed theoretician with little observation of, and no care for, reality.
A good example of this is Mrs. W (not her real name). I was walking down a long corridor in a care home, and Mrs. W, who is normally in a wheelchair, came scurrying out of her room, walking and pushing her wheelchair in front of her.
Mrs. W was beaming like a toddler who just got her first Fisher Price Bubble Lawnmower for Christmas; such was the wide smile and bright eyes on her face that struck me as the personification of pure joy. When care staff saw Mrs. W walking, they hurried to her side, exclaiming, “Mrs. W, you are not supposed to be walking, you are a fall risk.” But then, two care workers flanked her and one said, “Ok, Mrs. W, we’ll walk with you for a bit, but then you need to sit back down.” That was an exemplary case of a couple of hands-on care workers taking a few extra steps to provide care.
Unfortunately, because of understaffing, such extra efforts are rare, and the next day, Mrs. W was buckled into her wheelchair.
I’ve witnessed frequent little interventions by care staff that perk up residents. Simple things like tucking someone into a blanket when they doze off in front of a window, or a nurse inviting a lonely resident to tag along while making rounds. Regrettably, it is also the little white lies that keep some resident upbeat, waiting for a family visit that never seems to come. Everyone who does little things to make life for residents just a bit better, even for a few minutes, needs to be thanked and praised.
The hands-on care home workers have very difficult jobs and yet they keep coming back. They are the little angels to so many.
