We have failed elderly when they most need help

Fear is real, even when it’s irrational.

Case in point: For all my life my biggest fear has been to end up alone, broke and dependent on the kindness of strangers. This is completely irrational, given I’m happily married, not broke and, even though I’m old, am moderately healthy. Why, then, would I fear a fate unlikely to occur?

Because we are surrounded by the unlucky elderly; particularly women of a certain generation, those wives and mothers who stayed at home, had no pension plan and weren’t able to provide for themselves beyond what their husband brought home and what resources they ended up with upon their spouse’s death.

Sometimes the kindness of strangers is actually just that. That’s luck, not planning; happenstance, not policy.

Our governments have failed miserably in the care of the elderly, just as they have failed with the care of the very young. Children, though, have advocates — their parents — who are forced by government inaction to make the hard choice between regulated and expensive child care and neighbourhood homes or grandparents.

The elderly often have no advocates. They may not live in the same city as their children; their own parents are long gone; frequently their siblings are, also. The end-of-life stories are heartbreaking and often ignored. The tree in the forest that falls and nobody hears. The ones we do hear are told by others because so many of the frail are afraid to speak out. Most of the time we don’t listen because taking action would require holding our governments to account and willingly voting to raise taxes to pay for proper end-of-life care, including changes to the laws governing medical assistance in dying. That I am not permitted to write a personal directive dictating how I want my life to end is ludicrous.

One of the most devastating actions taken by officials during this pandemic is the lockdown of long-term care homes. (Sadly, “care homes” can be an oxymoron. In far too many, the “care” is minimal; the “home” is anything but.) For three months, family and friends have been denied access to those in care. Waving from the curb or through a window just doesn’t cut it.

One consistent comment made by health officials (although not necessarily in public) is that arbitrarily denying the elderly the comfort of familiarity and family makes for a lonely, confusing and sometimes terrifying experience.

Here are the actual words used by someone whose husband died in long-term care before the pandemic. She was able to be with him at the end, to say goodbye, to hug and kiss him. To say she is furious at how others have been treated is an understatement. She, among others, would have been more than willing to accept training and use personal protective equipment to be with a loved one during times of crisis offering care and support.

To have banished family members from care homes goes beyond cruel. “I painfully watched what happened or did not happen for residents who lacked a care giver like me,” she wrote.

And she was, indeed, a care giver, not a visitor. She provided for her husband all the extras an understaffed facility could not. “I fed him plus the other resident at his table. I provided exercise, made sure he had what he needed, met with his doctor, made appointments for foot care and other personal necessities and let him know that at least one person was by his side daily — one consistent person who knew and loved him and someone he could rely on.”

That’s the sort of relationship the frail elderly, especially those with dementia need — one consistent person. “To have a different parttime staff person changing their clothing and diapers and not even knowing their names is disrespectful and totally unacceptable. Longterm care residents require relationship care, not a revolving door of strangers methodically wiping their bums.” Yes, she’s angry, even as she is still processing her own grief.

This could be any of us at the end of our life. If we fail to vote in governments at all levels that have the fortitude to see the changes needed in elder care, including single rooms, planning in place for outbreaks, regular on-site inspections and staff who work in only one facility for a living wage, we will have no one to blame but ourselves.

I won’t fear the end if all this should come to pass.