Thursday, February 4, 2016

Waterview Hills Nursing Facility, Purdys New York

Nursing Homes, or as they liked to be called now, Sub-Acute Care Facilities, are in your future with an aging parent.   My family has been down this road with my Dad's health journey (he/we lost-we'll get to that another day), my sisters recovery from a cataclysmic accident and with Mom on several occasions.


I had the feeling that being we were in Westchester County, NY, a tony suburb on NYC, we'd be in better territory.   We chose a place a friends mother had gone to.   It looked good.  But that where good ended.  


We did not do our due diligence.   We were tired.  We trusted.   Don't trust anyone when it comes to your parent.  You wouldn't have trusted anyone with your child and this is the same.


Go online.  Look at alllllll the ratings from the nursing homes you are considering, then look at ones you are not considering because of distance.   I'd rather Mom got better care and less visits from me than what we have just endured.   Even visits won't tell the truth because this place looks lovely but once you pull the curtain back...not nice at all.


Mom is coming home tomorrow so I have been busy posting this review of Waterview Hills Nursing Facility in Purdys,, NY.   Read the review and visit their dite and you will see the disconnect between the b.s. we are fed and the actual care received.
http://waterviewhills.com/


My review:


Waterview Hills Review


  • Stained, crusty sheets
  • A used medical glove in the bottom drawer of the bureau.
  • The hospital bracelet from the former patient was still on the top of the bureau, in plain site.   Clearly this area had been “straightened” but definitely not cleaned.


 


This is how our saga began at Waterview Hills in Purdy’s and this is how is continued until I got to management and pitched a fit for my mother.


  • It was clear by the pandemonium we encountered at arrival-yes; they were expecting us, the hospital called to say I was bringing my mother in, that this place was woefully understaffed.
  • Inedible food.   The pancakes needed a knife.   The hot cereal was cold.   The meager slice of meat was 80% fat and gristle.
    • After complaining we were told that if Mom wanted to go downstairs to eat, e food was better.  Or, in my words, residents are punished for staying in their rooms even though they pay the same.
    • After complaining, the director of food service came to complain to my mother!   How could she complain about hard pancakes, fatty meat, etc ad infinitum.   If her food is cold she can ask to have it heated up!   Really?   This is the responsibility of an elderly woman just out of the hospital?   I thought it was the responsibility of the director of food service.
      • In the Waterview Hills brochure, Fine Dining is listed first.   Hardly.
  • And this just in, Mom is on Coumadin, her levels were good when she left the hospital, 5 days later with the diet she’s been on which has no respect for doctors order, her levels are down by 25%.   HORRIBLE.   Dangerous.
  • It took 3 days from our initial request for a shower for my mother.
    • We were told residents receive a shower every 3 days.  So, if you ask after they’ve done the round of showers, you are out of luck.
      • Mom had been in the hospital for a week with IV’s in both arms.   She was looking forward to a shower.
  • We were sold a room with a shared bath for 2.  When we arrived it was a shared bath for 4.
    • When my While this was remedied, it felt like bait and switch.
  •  Mother told an aide the bathroom was out of toilet paper,the the aide told my mother it wasn’t her job.  
  • No hangers in closet
    • While this was remedied, they were expecting us.
  • No pillows on bed
    • While this was remedied, they were expecting us.  Then we asked for 3, 45 days later, still only 2.   Yes, it’s a small complaint, but compounded with everything else?
  • No assistance upon arrival until I complained.  
    • I brought my mother in.  No one directed us.   I was pointed to her room.   There was no welcome packet.   It was worse than a Motel 6.
      While Waterview “looks” pretty, landscaping, nice furniture and carpet, they are so understaffed it isn’t funny.    If you hate your parent then this is the place for them.

Monday, February 1, 2016

An Introduction To How I Came To Rasie My Mother...


The fact is that one of us is going to die at the end of this and we probably know which one of us will go first.   Most domestic situations don't start that way.  It's pessimistic.   It's realistic.   And I'm tired.  

This began in July when I looked down onto my 83 year old mother's scalp, through her snow white perfectly coiffed hair, to see a silver dollar sized black circle that turned out to be aggressive stage 2 melanoma.  It was July 3rd, Mom had come up for a 2 week visit.   That turned into 2 1/2  months and is now going to turn into the rest of her natural life, or mine, whichever comes first.  BTW, that reference to a silver dollar will probably go right over millennial's  heads as they have most likely never seen one.     This blog is not for them but for those of us who ducked and covered during the cold war.

Our blog/rant/conversation is hopefully going to help me get through what is to come, as I have realized I am about to embark on the most epic thing I have ever done.   I don't think I'm ready to raise my mother to maturity in the years she has left with her wits, or before I lose mine.

Mom is a lot, repeat, a lot of work.   She's used to being the center of the room, my father doted on her, her favorite son doted on her.  My sister doted on her.   I had been banished so I just achingly and wistfully thought of her.  Then she lost her favorite son.   Then she lost my father.  My sister, through proximity and inclination, got my mother through the last 7 years, the sale of the family home, packed and moved into the condo, depression, moms self medicating,  through falls and broken bones, rehabs and countless dr. appointments.  My sister has found love and deserves a shot at happiness.   It's my turn.

During that visit in July my brave husband suggested we make some renovations and have mom move in.  In the interest of full disclosure, my husband is a former US Marine, had been at the WTC in rescue and recovery efforts on 9/11, went to New Orleans after Katrina to aid in recovery and to Haiti on a medical assistance mission after the earthquake.  He's used to disasters.   In my own quest to finally become a beloved daughter I said yes. 

We've had 2 visits from Mom since July.   The October trip took care of a single area basal cell removal.   This trip was the removal of 2 more basal cell areas.   We got one taken care of when we hit the snag.   The snag that precipitates this blog.  The snag where I am now coming face to face with my new reality.  

Mom had a UTI she managed to keep to herself during 2 doctor visits preceding her trip here, to the surgeon and Dr who removed her basal cell and to her Internist who met her and had a zillion questions about her health.  Not a peep (get that play on letters?  pee...peep, I'm hilarious) about burning urination.    Days later, it's Saturday, the day of snowmageddon here on the east coast.   Mom was not right all day, by 4 p.m., with the storm raging, it is apparent we have to bring Mom to the hospital.   Husband cleans off the JEEP and gets her there where she was admitted and stayed for the week.   The UTI went septic, and oh yeah, she has arterial fibrillation for good measure.

Mom was moved to Rehab for physical therapy Saturday.   I believe that is the straw that broke my proverbial back.  So, as I was getting to microwave my Hot Pocket for my sumptuous dinner, I thought, "I would've liked some lists.  Is there a book for this?" then I thought "I need to help the next poor co-dependent daughter before she slits her own wrists over her Diva mother".   So here we are.  Lists will follow.