Alone

Some who are reading this may know that I volunteer for a hospice in my area. My current patient is in a very nice group home. There are a limited number of residents and generally at least three staff persons when I come to visit my very sweet patient. The common area, a great room, is very comfortable and inviting. There is a covered porch off the room and there are a half dozen or more rockers for sitting and soaking up the sun. The yard off the porch is nicely landscaped and soothing to the eye. I have been in a number of facilities over the last few years and this is one of the nicest that I have seen.

As I observed in my other blog, the residents spend a great deal of their time napping and, even when they are awake, they don’t do much interacting. I also noticed that interaction is between the staff and resident and that the residents do not have anything to do with each other. This disturbed and saddened me until this past week when it all came together for me.

This home, as nicely decorated and landscaped as it is, is a cross between a prison and a train station for the residents.

Given a choice, most of the residents would likely choose to be in their own homes or with their families, but instead they find themselves locked up in this “home”. I say “locked up” because they are, indeed, locked inside the facility. When I come to visit I am let in through two locked gates to get inside. Granted, this is a safety precaution to protect them as many do not necessarily know where they are and when they do move, they don’t have a clear destination or any idea how to get there. The locked gates keep them from wandering out and getting lost or hurt. Nevertheless…

These were once vital people who are now deemed to be a danger to themselves and others due to some loss in cognitive skills or inability to take care of themselves due to some physical malfunctions. They are now biding their time and waiting for their next move; their last move, hence the train station. Many of them have been diagnosed as having only a short time left.

Each of the residents knows that the person they are sitting next to today may not be there in the morning. There is no purpose to making friends who may not be around tomorrow. The loss tugs too strongly at one’s heart. The knowledge of this potential loss is such that they do not talk or even look at one another. The only constant to be counted on is the staff. So these are the people they talk to.

So, they spend most of everyday sitting by themselves, watching TV, reading or napping. Occasionally one of them will have a visitor for a short time. This is something to be cherished, but the visit is all too brief and then they are left behind in their velvet prison.

Yes. Now I understand why they do not talk to one another. It is why they do not make friends with one another. It is why, in a group of 12 – 20 people, they are alone.