Don't Fear Twitter! (It's Fun!)

I'm a great fan of Twitter as a communications tool. Even though I've been active on it for a couple of years, I still haven't learned all its fancy uses. Of course the best way to learn is by doing. 

This weekend I did a rare (for me) live tweet, that is, I went to an event (in this case, a book discussion by Meika Loe), and took notes via Twitter. 

The great thing about technology is that one brilliant idea is built upon by another. There's a website called Storify where you can piece your (and other people's) tweets into a story. My Storify-ed version of Meika Loe's lecture is below. Enjoy!

Life Sans Cocoon

This Sunday at 2 p.m. Inkwood Books is hosting a discussion with Professor Meika Loe, a sociologist and author of the 2011 book Aging Our Way: Lessons for Living from 85 and Beyond.

“If nothing else," Meika said, "these elder stories defy what you expect from the very old.” 

One of the stories is about three widowed friends who live on their own. The ladies check in with each other every morning by phone to make sure all is well. On at least one occasion, one of the three didn't answer her phone. When the others went to see why, they found her on the floor.

We're a society that doesn't "think intergenerationally," Meika told earlier this week over the phone. She's 38 and the mother of a four-year-old, and said she was interested in the topic of aging because she "had great relationships with my grandparents, and have watched them struggle with aging without their spouses."

She says the more we know about these modern elders, who live longer and healthier than previous generations, the more we can prepare and help. And we all have to learn how to do this better because the 85+ set is the fastest growing age group in the U.S.

Not to mention it'll help us help ourselves if we’re fortunate enough to reach that age. Here's a few questions I asked Meika, edited for brevity.

Tampa Do-Gooder: What grade would America receive for our efforts to take care of our elders? 

Meika Loe: That's a tough question. We have Medicare and Medicaid in place to help, but beyond that it’s an informal crew of caregivers. It’s extremely expensive to have in-home care and aging in place. We have a ways to go. 

I’d give between a B-C. In my book, the elders are filling in their own gaps. And so are local nonprofits, county centers, etc. I’d also ask, ‘how are we caring for our communities in general?' This question isn’t always age specific. For example, are there sidewalks for strollers?

TDG: How are elders treated in other countries?

ML: In Brugge, Belgium certain cafés have colored flags specifically for people with dementia, so they don’t have to be watched all the time. It’s a community working together to respond, instead of investing in surveillance devices, they’re enabling the wandering.

We have a very age-segregated society here. Maybe not so much in Florida, but here in New York, it’s pretty rare [to see the frail elderly out at a café].

TDG: What feedback have you gotten from your students? 

ML: They’ve really enjoyed it. I’m teaching a class called “Sociology of the Life Course” and this is the first class to read the book. Part of the assignment is to connect with a local elder and do a life history interview. The students are juniors and seniors. They’re finding similarities in their own lives. Like, “Wow, now I have a sense that football is just one chapter in my life.” Or they’re taking their families for granted less.

There's a great interview with Meika on Access Minnesota, and you can check out her blog here.

Apple of My Eye: November is National Caregivers Month

This past summer every other gal I know was glowing and pregnant, eyes focused to the future with tiny, new lives. Meanwhile, I felt as if I had taken a few steps backwards.

I got divorced and was starting over, beginning with needing a place to live. I had nothing to my name, except maybe my overpriced B.A. degree and the certified nursing assistant (CNA) license I got several years ago at the start of the recession when I needed a job.

When I spotted a Craigslist ad for a live-in caregiver to a 91-year-old British lady who resides close to my day job, I jumped on the opportunity.

I liked Apple immediately. We were introduced over tea by her daughter Colette. Both Apple and I were being uncharacteristically reserved, so Colette steered the conversation. She apologized when it fell onto British TV shows for several minutes, fearing I'd been left out.

But I wasn’t. To show my interest I mentioned that I was a huge Hugh Grant fan. 

The 91-year-old smiled broadly and replied, "Who isn't?!"

This would not be the last time we shared a grin over our mutual appreciation of British reprobate hotties. (We watch House together weekly.) 



The irony that is Tampa Do-Gooder, if you hadn’t already noticed, is that I'm no different than any other well-meaning person who occasionally does the right thing. I have heart and good intentions, but following through with challenging tasks, especially long-term ones, is pretty darn tough.

The fact of the matter remains that I came to work as a CNA & caregiver out of humbling desperation. I would not do this for anyone in my own family. It’s physically & emotionally draining, long hours, and I think about quitting every day. 

Part of the challenge is that as I take care of someone else's needs, I feel like I’m missing out on rebuilding my own life. I’ve always been impatient though. Hanging out with a healthy 91-year-old every day, however, is a constant reminder that I’ve got time (and if I don’t, what could I do about it anyway?). It’s a good lesson in balance for this impatient fool who rushes into and through everything. I might get a lot done, but I often don’t know how to enjoy the moment I’m in.

I loved Apple a day into our weekend trial run. Sharp as a tack, witty and blunt, she reads the paper daily and vehemently defends the young president of her adopted country. She occasionally puts up with my C-SPAN habit and I cook something or study when she puts on Chris Wallace.

Having lost both of my grandmothers during college, Apple is my bonus granny. And I am especially grateful that my presence is among the reasons she doesn’t have to think about trading her house in for facility living. For now, we're both safe and flourishing at home.

Florida's Greatest Resource, Part I

In the fall of 2008 as the economy went up in smoke, professionally I went from writer to waitress to unemployed. The bad news was that I had to

find a paycheck quickly, but there was good news in that it was the perfect time to reinvent myself. Ever the do-gooder, I had yet to be completely fulfilled by my profession (the main reason I continue to volunteer).
As I looked around for work, the only job listing I came across continually was for certified nursing assistants (CNA). In one weekend I trained for the state certification exam, passed it six weeks later, and hit the pavement running. In one day I visited seven or more nursing homes. I walked in, took in the view, smelled the smells...actually, only one place smelled and of course that was the nursing home that hired me on the spot.

There were approximately 200 beds in the facility and the place was almost filled to capacity. I was told the average age of the residents was 55. This nursing home was essentially where "crazy" people without family/homes/resources were sent to be cared for. It was either this place or living on the streets.

I shadowed another CNA for less than a week then was on my own to take care of roughly 15 people (just below the state mandate of no less than one CNA per 20 residents) per eight-hour shift. I worked slowly and not just because I was new, but because I could see that the people I took care of were lonely. Caring for and talking to the residents as you fed them or changed their diapers was not a job requirement, and I quickly clashed with my co-workers, many of whom tried to show me short cuts so I'd work at a faster pace. I was taught to wash residents with shaving cream, for example, because it cut body odor without requiring water.

As with most nursing homes, the staff turnover was astounding (I was later told by a director of nursing at another facility that the norm is 300%). After speaking candidly with several of the CNA's I worked with, I learned most came from a staffing agency, which paid more than being hired as a regular full-time employee. Our supervisors were Licensed Practical Nurses (LPN's), nurses with two-year degrees, but to me their primary job seemed to be passing out medication, not to oversee CNAs that slacked on the job. I only stayed there for three weeks, long enough to find another place, any place.

Unfortunately my next job was a step down. It was at a very pretty Assisted Living Facility (ALF), which I soon discovered was not subject to all the same strict laws as nursing homes. I had already decided it was much too easy to get a CNA license in the state of Florida, but at ALF's, "caregivers" replace CNA's and licenses are not required (thus a reduced pay scale but still the same difficult emotional and physical workload). Additionally, because most residents of an ALF need less assistance than the clients in a nursing home, the ratio of resident-to-caregiver is higher.

I had a problem immediately with the administration. It was obvious that many seniors in our care required much more than just assistance, in fact, some needed total physical care. This ALF had 50 residents and only three employees on my afternoon-to-evening shift to care for them.

Another shock to me regarding ALF's was learning that the person hired to hand out medication to residents (usually called a med tech) had less training than a CNA, while CNA's are not legally allowed to touch medication at any time.

Three weeks into my job at the ALF, I was tending to one of the residents under my care who complained of extreme pain. For three days in a row the resident cried to me about the great amount of pain he was in, and for three days I reported this information to my superior. She brushed me off each time. I was not made aware of any plans to resolve the issue with the resident nor was I ever spoken to about the incident. I realized that at my ALF the administration and hands-on staff didn’t establish relationships as co-workers, and I definitely felt there was a common lack of respect for CNA's by the upper echelon of the staff.

It was apparent to me that the ALF I worked in was not a safe place for my pained resident, who couldn't walk much less care for his wounds. Because I didn't trust my employer enough to handle the situation in a timely manner, I called the phone number posted on the familiar flyer that hangs in all of Florida's long-term care facilities: the hotline to Florida's Long-Term Care Ombudsman Program.