The rain was steady against a dark sky—no cheerful chirps coming from my bird feeder this morning. Nature’s gray silence amplified my conflicted emotions as I pondered yesterday’s call from a beloved 85 year old friend. Clara’s late morning, midweek call had been curious, as our pattern was to talk every weekend.
Straining to listen, I found that vague facts and deep emotion, shrouded in a thick dutch accent, clouded each unfolding detail. A close friend of Clara’s had received jolting news on Memorial Day weekend. Holiday staffing of their retirement community offered minimal information, providing little help in clarifying facts. Listening intently, I pieced together the fact that Clara’s 92 year old friend, Sarah, had been receiving assistance in bathing twice a week, though she lived fairly independently. Her bath assistant had just recently been diagnosed with COVID 19 and as a result, all seniors under her care were to be quarantined for two weeks to minimize the possibility of spread throughout the highly vulnerable retirement community.
Quarantine has become a common scenario, one which most of us have come to understand completely having dealt with the realities of COVID 19 now for over two months. We watch and we wait and we know that most of the watchful isolated do just fine and that few transition to demonstrate symptoms. And, yes, some get very sick. Weeks of engagement in this silent battle have provided most of us with a vague sense of understanding of the typical protocols. Yet, once again, my mind had failed to see the broader perspectives of another world dealing with a very different reality, our Senior Communities and Nursing Homes across the world.
For the elderly, the story is quite different. Most have proactively been sequestered in a lockdown unlike anything we have experienced and totally NOT of their own choosing. They have been separated from their families and their support systems, at times even from their doctors. In many cases they are not able to be with each other. Meals are delivered to their rooms in an effort to keep all from congregating together. Their isolation—their NEW NORM can be devastatingly destructive as they attempt to comprehend all that is happening in their world. And, in most situations, age decreases the capacity to gain perspective, particularly when information is insufficient and often contradictory.
92 year old Sarah is a primary example of the failings of a system. She resides in a retirement community that has remarkably few cases of COVID 19. The potential risk for an outbreak of significant proportion is all too obvious. Slight Sarah delights in daily exercise around the grounds of her community, pushing her walker and chatting with friends throughout. In every way, she is the hostess of the community, her bright smile and charming interest in others providing constant energy outwards that keeps her vital and others engaged. She has missed her family, and has filled the empty emotional void with concern for others…and she has thrived. That is, until Memorial Day weekend when her world came to a screeching halt.
Quarantine. Two weeks of staying in her apartment. NO visitors. Food to be delivered in a bag at her door, rather than the customary delivery of a tray on her kitchen counter accompanied by a warm chat and encouraging word to the courier.
Why the change? Frail Sarah did not completely understand. She had been told something ‘about the virus’ and that she might have it. But she really did not understand at all.
My friend, Clara, heard the fragmented tale as she met Sarah in the hallway coming from her masked escape into the halls of potential contagion to retrieve her mail. I now understood completely why Clara made the urgent call to me. She wondered if SHE might come down with the virus just through that brief hallway contact with potentially viral, uncontainable Sarah.
My heart broke for Sarah, who is slowly having to be convinced of her new reality through the next two weeks of strict isolation. I am assuming communication improved once the holiday weekend was over. It became very clear to me, however, the insidious ways these small cell outbreaks in our senior homes and convalescent centers have spiraled into uncontrollable disasters so very quickly.
Perhaps I was able to help my friend Clara to see the bigger picture of what was happening. She seemed a bit relieved to have talked. But my heart is focused on Sarah and all the Sarahs and Henrys of this world who don’t understand and who are frightened, confused and alone. Many of these well lived, seasoned warriors have no desire to end their participation in a life that has been full and valued and enriching to others. Some will end productive lives very soon due to the attack of this unseen enemy. They may end it without feeling the love and support of close friends and family.
Yesterday my eyes were opened to a larger perspective of the COVID 19 challenge and I am grateful for it. I begin this day wanting to make a difference where I CAN make a difference. I can write this blog making others aware of the need. I can call Clara this afternoon and see how she is doing. I can think of others who need my encouragement— and I can reach out to them. I may even call little Sarah and introduce myself.
As we ease the lockdown, hesitantly joying in well loved freedoms, we must not forget our friends and loved ones in our rehab centers and nursing homes. Most of us know at least one to two around the country who will likely not see their shut downs lifted any time soon. Reach out to them today and see how they are doing. Commit to keeping in touch with them weekly. Find those that are kept totally isolated for whatever reason and find creative ways to let them know that they are loved, missed and valued. Do it now and frequently, as our lives begin to pick up where we left off…while theirs’ will likely remain the same for some time. Perhaps into their eternity.