How death starts

It's really hard to write about the decline of resident's health. But that's what I'm doing. I'm writing about a resident I've known since I came here more than six years ago. I knew she was a little eccentric then. I also wondered if all her stories were true. Nevertheless, she was past 65 and I was sure that she had experienced many things in life, some of which were probably not pleasant.

I will call her Esther for the purposes of this blog and it's reading. I knew Esther was not that educated. She told me she had lost her child (a daughter) who was taken from her by the County Department of Children's Services. That had to be a horrible thing for a mother, despite whatever reasons there were for it happening. Esther used to say she hasn't seen her daughter in a very long time. Over the last few years, she said she has 14 grandchildren. That would be a hard thing for a single daughter to do. But, I haven't heard Esther say that lately.

Esther has made the rounds of different rooms in this nursing home. She was on the front hall which is close to the nurses' station and the dining room. Then she was moved back on the hall where I am a few years ago. This part of the building is far away from the activity centers. Even though this building is not that large, only 50 residents max can live here, it still is a walk for someone who has difficulty doing it. Esther told me she had polio as a child and has had difficulty walking ever since.

When Esther walked she did it in nonslip socks instead of shoes. She did have a hard time walking and sort of dragged one foot a bit. I can see where wearing shoes may have tripped her up at times. Walking for her was a struggle. But she made it. Most of the time the incentive was meals and snacks. Esther is overweight so I guess you can say that food motivates her. She never complained much about the food. Although at times, she did ask for the backup for some things. She doesn't like tomato soup and always requests chicken noodle.

Esther has a birthday in late November. She always reminded everyone here that she was born a few days before Pearl Harbor was bombed in December 1941. That means Esther is 75 years old. But she seems to be caught in a time warp. For the last three years, she has continued to say she is 72. She apparently doesn't realize what year it is. When I tried to remind her a few days after her birthday, I could tell my suggestion of a correction was not going anywhere. Maybe it wasn't registering that she was misremembering her age. I didn't pursue the subject further. It was a little disheartening realizing that she's lost her sense of time and date.

Everyone wants to know what death looks like. Maybe we're watching it catching up to Esther. That's not a happy thought, but it may be the truth. She no longer walks. Soon after  her November birthday she had greater difficulty making it to the dining room. Sometimes she was incontinent and had to be pushed to her room for a quick change to return to a meal. I think she realized life would be easier in a wheelchair.

Maybe things will level out and Esther will learn to thrive in that wheelchair. She's been encouraged to motivate it herself. But she's not doing a very good job. Lately, I see aides and nurses pushing her in her wheelchair more than they used to. I wonder if she beats herself up because she no longer walks. I would think that would be very self-defeating. She was offered therapy, got it for a while, and then refused. But, as everyone knows, no resident can get therapy continuously while living in a nursing home. There has to be a goal. Esther is not going to leave here so her goals will be limited and so will therapy.

Esther told me she hurts and I'm sure that's true. Sometimes I think the depression is hurting her more than her physical ailments. But I'm not in her body, so I don't know.

But if I want to know what death looks like, I think all I have to do is keep watching Esther. If I can get close enough, maybe I will find out.