Living Well

Girl trip anyone? My friends' trip was not born of grade school, high school, or university reunions.  These women, authors in common, a nurse practitioner, photographer, and retreat coordinator met in our mountain community about eight years ago.  Their husbands or partner fostered their interests at home while these adventure-seeking dames explored Peru.   





Harsh mountain winters motivated other friends to rent a condo in Naples from their friends who took advantage of the real estate bust and upgraded their home. Joining them for our regularly scheduled Friday lunch with ten others, one friend laughingly admitted, "We did not miss you at all.  We had the best time in Hawaii for my birthday - the children surprised us with birthday decorations for our cruise cabin.  We had the best winter.   Turkey, more travel to my aunt's 95th birthday, then Hawaii."    How fortunate for this couple (she traveled  to Turkey with her sisters).


"Live fully" is the signature with which a favorite relative closes her correspondence.   That can translate to knowing when it is time to sell the house and enjoy a retirement community.  With those with smaller pockets that might mean selling the one-bedroom condo on two floors and moving to a one-floor ranch within her price range and delight in a two-car garage to make winters more manageable.  Another with wanderlust and a fixed income lives with high cost of energy bills, caregiving, and maintaining a home that remains on the market in another state. An arm-chair traveler for now.  Romance was intimated by another answering a personal ad for a mountain gal.   Advice?  Don't sell the house.


What travel experience is on your bucket list, have you recently enjoyed, or remains in your memory?

Ethical issues

  At the personal invitation of my geronology professor Dr. Rita Gugel, the founder of National Association of Professional Care Managers (NAPGCM) visited our class at Lynn University in the early 90s.  Within the next few years I enlisted the help of a professional geriatric care manager to address a caregiving situation that ultimately provided opportunity for my second husband's distant four children to care for their father, albeit long distance.  "I won't come until my father is situated", are the dispassionate words heard from one son.  

Wanting to do the right thing, I found a level of care that mirrored Mr.S.'s lifestyle, ensured he was settled and visited from time to time in the assisted living community and hospital to ensure staff knew there was someone local who observed his care. 

The one-hour assessment by the professional care manager was the best $200 I ever spent.  My children deserved me to present in their lives and share their joy.

And now it is time again to call on professional care management, to call on professionals who are familiar with levels of care for dementia and ensure transition sans physical and emotional challenges of family, near and distant.  Far too personal when it comes to a parent.   "I just cannot do it anymore" echoes from various challenges within a family including finances, introduction of extended family with different history.  


The terse words of management eager to make way for "healthier" residents are 360 degrees of the welcome less than two years ago.   Ethical issues in discharge, a webinar offered by SeniorBridge this month, is one that professionals in aging need to hear. Consider discharges from hospitals, rehab centers, and communities.  What is the appropriate setting, timing?   What has been your experience in handling transitions of family members or close friends.  Did you handle the move(s) yourself ? Did you call on a professional care manager?   If so, what is a positive experience or one that could have been improved?  Share with us so others can benefit.  

Caregiver Role Reversal

The contents of my friend's  weekly email exchange read: 

"...one of my mom’s caregivers had a fall last week and dislocated her shoulder.  She’s not much older than I am but she has a very sedentary life and she seems in much worse shape than my mother.  Our church group has been having to bathe her, cook and drive for her.  I had her here for dinner and my mother was taking care of her and cutting her food….she felt great to be the caregiver for a change and she loved it.  Anyway, it got me thinking about taking better care of myself and not giving in to old age."

     . This reminds me of my mother, 98, who is every bit the hostess she always has been.  From her senior living apartment she is eager to share her bounty of yogurt, bottled water, bananas, or sweets.  She can readily replace a banana from the community's basket in the lobby or ask for one in the dining room.  Readily translates to walking what seems greater distances with a walker after hip surgery.  What continues to inspire you in the actions of courageous elders?

Why I Love My Doctor- We're Not Dead Yet

When I retired, I moved back to the area where my children grew up so that I could be closer to my family. As such, I had to go through the motions of changing everything. I changed doctors, most notably. I spend about 3 to 5 hours a month at the doctor, which doesn't sound like a lot but it sure isn't a walk in the park. Since I'm there a lot for checkups and other tests, I need a doctor that I feel comfortable with and can trust. I made the mistake of hiring the first doctor that I found, and quickly realized that I needed a better solution. The mistake? Let me explain.


I had been spending the day with my daughter, who just insisted on riding along with me to my appointment. She likely wanted to see and hear for herself that I was (or was not, perhaps) healthy. So I conceded and she came along. Mind you, this was only the second time I had been to see this doctor. I could have been his mother, too. He was fresh out of medical school and you could tell. But that day, it was painfully obvious that he'd missed the course on bedside manner and patient communication.

He came into the room, talked to me, talked to my daughter, and went about his business. As the appointment went on, I began to notice that he spent far more time talking ABOUT me to my daughter, as if I wasn't even there. After about 20 minutes, I was exasperated. I looked him straight in the face, excused myself, and said

"I'm not dead yet, you know."

He got a startled look on his face, and chuckled, as if I was joking before walking out of the room. In the process of finding my current doctor, whom I love dearly, I went through about 5 or 6 who all did the same thing. I made it a pet project, of sorts, and took my daughter along just to prove a point: doctors tend to treat older people like children who can't understand them. We understand just fine. As a health advocate, I am advocating for better education on patient communication. We ARE the patients, after all.

Contributed by Mary Albert, a blogger for a senior lifestyle web site that provides advice for the 55+ age group as well as medical alert reviews