A Lack of Patient Care Dares Customers to Ask for More

When playing the game of LIFE as a kid, getting into the nicest retirement home possible, first, could potentially help you win the game. You’d work through the entire board, trying to collect the most money while spending the least, maybe getting married and having children along the way.

There are more than a few differences between the average American life and a character’s journey in the game of LIFE, but one sticks out to me the most: the patient experience toward the end of one’s adventure.

A recent article by NPR came out detailing the travesties experienced by both patients and employees at a few private New York nursing homes. Multiple homes have ongoing investigations involving fraud, money laundering, and neglect.

In one affidavit, Margarette Volkmar, whose spouse was being treated at The Villages of Orleans Health & Rehabilitation Center in western New York, reported that, “her husband was left in his bed with only a diaper on, was bruised by a fall, choked by another resident, given the wrong medication doses, dressed in other residents' clothes and covered in bruises that could not be explained.”

She later went on to say a dog would get better care than what humans received in The Villages.

While this experience may sound extreme, it is increasingly common for many patients in nursing homes—even ones with wealth, veteran statuses, and inside medical knowledge.

Growing up, I spent a lot of time with an elder family friend of ours, Evelyn Wisner, a widowed World War II flight nurse. By the time I was born, Evelyn was already 77. By that point, she already had enough life experience to fill a textbook— being one of just twelve women chosen to be a flight nurse (one of the requirements was for the girls to be good-looking), giving mid-flight emergency first-aid to wounded soldiers on D Day, and then going on to be a neonatal special care registered nurse at Oakwood Hospital in Dearborn, Michigan.

Evelyn was always rather energetic but finally began feeling the effects of her age at 96. Given her background as a war veteran and experience working in hospitals, it seemed she would be privy to the best care available for someone her age. She did not want to stay in her old, stair-ridden drafty house and, instead, opted to reside in a nursing home where she could be taken care of. Her meals would be cooked for her, her room would be cleaned daily, and she could even get her nails done once a week.

It was a difficult decision for Evelyn to leave the home she had worked for and purchased years ago, but her family and friends were hopeful about this next step in Evelyn’s life. Rapidly, however, that beam of hope dimmed. First, she lost track of time: she was never sure if it was night or day, if it was Wednesday or Saturday. She had a window in her room but it didn’t get much light, making it difficult for anyone stuck inside to know even what season it was.

Then, she had roommates whose screams found their way into her subconscious. They would mumble softly then loud, saying incoherent things, forcing her to listen. One passed away while Evelyn was sleeping just a few feet away. It was hours before they removed her body.

As time went on Evelyn seemed more and more lost, less and less like herself. Part of this was the natural progression of age-related dementia, but another, larger part seemed due to her surroundings. The nurses would take her on a stretcher out of her room to give her medicine and then forget about her in the hallway for hours at a time. She would wet herself and then the same thing would happen again when they brought her to the bath. She lost mobility in her fingers and could no longer bring her food from the plate to her mouth. The nurses just watched as she sat down at mealtime, staring at her food, unable to eat it.

My family and I would go to visit her and, every time, I (a teenager at the time) would tell my mom we could not let her die in this pee-smelling, low-security dump. She deserved so much better—she was a hero.

We were helpless, though. Her insurance limited the places she could go and many of them were allegedly even worse than this one. As the months went on, Evelyn’s already dainty figure grew frailer and frailer. Finally, two years later, with my mother by her side, she took her last breath of the foul-smelling air.

After she gave her a final kiss goodbye, my mom walked up to the nurse to tell her, “I think she died.” The nurse lazily walked over to Evelyn, confirmed she was gone, and then proceeded with the required duties.

We talk a lot about the customer care standard in retail, online, and in the contact center. Why is it, though, that when the care of the customer matters the most—when people are fully reliant on care givers, when they are dying, when they are sick—that we fall so short?  

Lawmakers and victims are urging government officials to step in and protect patients of facilities where owners have turned a blind eye to malpractice. Lindsay Heckler, a supervising attorney at the Center for Elder Law and Justice in Buffalo, provides free legal aid to older, disabled, and low-income adults. Her years of experience have made her concerned for patients of nursing homes which fail to provide quality care, particularly after the facilities change hands.

What can be done for those who require long-term, end-of-life care? And what does this mean for the future of nursing homes?

For one, long term care needs to be more accessible and effective. To make this a reality, nursing homes need more trained nurses on duty at all times who can observe the needs of patients and implement effective treatments before their conditions worsen.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, we must shift the focus to client satisfaction in residential care facilities. Assistedliving.org reports that we are already seeing changes in this direction: “Across the country, a majority of the states have implemented policy changes in 2019 and 2020 that improve community care access, including support for those living in their own homes.” In addition to the growing number of state-funded assisted living facilities, many senior centers are providing services like transportation, social outings, exercise groups, and adult day programs to provide respite to caregivers and allow people to live comfortably at home longer.

Not all hope is lost for nursing homes. However, many private and public facilities alike lack the resources they need to care effectively for their patients. As our population continues to get older and, inevitably, natural causes lead to a decline in our health, we need to make sure we are still respecting and caring for our loved ones.

Much like in the game of LIFE, not all of us will be at the nicest retirement home in the area. But that does not take away from the fact that all of us deserve to pass on with some dignity.  

Header Photo by Georg Arthur Pflueger on Unsplash

Woman's hand Photo by Claudia Love on Unsplash  

Twin Hospital Beds Photo by Hush Naidoo Jade Photography on Unsplash