BLUNDO
Donnie Ross, 64
He has emphysema, congestive heart failure, diabetes and chronic obstructive pulmonary disease.
“Some days, it’s hard for me to do anything,” Ross said, holding his warm meal of chicken, a biscuit, mixed vegetables and applesauce. “It means a lot to me to get these.”
Richard Duty, 42
He’s a diabetic who uses supplemental oxygen. His wife is profoundly deaf.
The meal he gets seven days a week (LifeCare delivers on weekends, too) helps him eat an appropriate diet, he said.
Janice Lanning, 58
Lanning invited us into her bedroom, where she was watching television.
Afflicted by severe rheumatoid arthritis, she said the meals aren’t all that comforts her. It’s knowing that if she falls (she has had 19 surgeries on her feet alone), a Meals volunteer will know something’s wrong when she doesn’t answer the door.
Frank Mehling, 90 and his wife, Patricia, 88
He’s pretty spry; she uses a walker.
Mr. Mehling said they have five adult children in the area, so they’d cope if the meal delivery stopped.
“But there’s some out there in bad shape,” he said. “It’s sad.”
On the day I rode along, Meals on Wheels delivered food to 5,025 clients in five counties.
Chief Executive Charles Gehring said that if federal money disappeared, about $2.2 million of an $8 million budget for Meals on Wheels and related programs would be lost. Some people would go on waiting lists.
I could give you a lot of his other statistics, including one that says LifeCare’s in-home programs save $62,000 a year for every client not forced into institutionalized care.
But I think the better testimony comes from Otis Estepp, 80.
He and his wife, Janice, 71, were sitting in twin recliners in their living room, oxygen tanks by their sides. Mrs. Estepp, who has asthma and COPD, said she can’t stand long enough to cook.
Mr. Estepp lost a lung to cancer. When I asked what the daily meal delivery means to him, he simply started crying.
“God love him,” Jones said. “Every time he talks about Meals on Wheels, he can’t get through it.”