Place me in a nursing home

To the Editor: I hope and pray that I never end up in a nursing home. Years ago, sons and daughters thought enough of sick and ailing parents to convert garages and basements into small apartments. Today, meetings abound around the kitchen table where serious discussions take place dealing with putting oldtimers into nursing homes. It isn’t usually a daughterin-law or son-in-law who initiates the action.

I guess you can’t blame them. Families survive today based on the two incomes both parents combine at the end of the week. Nursing homes fit the times we live in. They are sprouting up all over the place. I get frequent circulars in my mailbox that advertise nursing homes.

One thing scares me to death about this whole nursing home phenomenon. It is the sudden increase in the number of lawyers who have made elder law their primary focus. There must be a lot of cash surrounding all the cases claiming bed sores, slips and falls in the facility, abuse and cruelty that are taking place even in those touted to be top shelf. Nursing home administrators are scratching their heads. Trying to hire help who won’t steal from the old, mistreat the old, or hurt the old is a tough, frustrating job.

All this stuff about nursing homes motivates me to do my best to remain where I belong as I grow older. My workout regimen almost qualifies me for a try-out with the Eagles. My work schedule at my age, which is supposed to be semi-retired, rivals that of some young buck starting his first job right after graduating from grad school.

I love my cozy little man-cave where I write, read, listen to Sinatra, and sip my Crown Royal. Pictures of all my children and grandchildren adorn the walls. I’m still searching for the appropriate saint to pray to in order to keep me out of ever having to be placed in a nursing home.

Good luck isn’t winning a couple of bucks on a scratch-off lottery card. It’s more about making it to the grave without ever spending one single day in a nursing home.