EDITH

Edith was sitting in her wheelchair next to the wall in the nursing home. She had a tray attached to the wheelchair where her cereal and milk were sitting. She had no interest in the breakfast meal and her head was bobbing up and down from fatigue. She found she was more tired at the age of 90-years-old and slept more than stayed awake during the day. The staff tried to get her up in the chair every morning instead of sleeping in. That was something she could not understand. I walked up to Edith to greet her and to see how she was doing on this Tuesday morning. She picked her head up to look at me and my preceptor. Her eyes looked tired and tried to focus on me and Joe. She then smiled.

“How are you feeling Edith?” I asked. Joe stood off to the side to let me interact with Edith.

“Doctor, I feel alright although I am more tired than usual. I guess that is what I get for being 90-years-old,” she smiled.

“I am glad you are feeling well. I am a nurse practitioner not a doctor,” I told Edith.

“Oh. But you take good care of me anyway,” she said. Then she sat there a while and starred straight ahead. I watched her for a few seconds when I saw her smile and look back up at me. Edith had a history of dementia.

“”You know I used to be a nurse,” Edith smiled.

“Really. What area of nursing did you work?” I asked.

“Surgery. I loved working in the operating room,” she smiled.

“That is hard work. Were you a circulating nurse or did you assist?” I asked.

“I assisted in the operations,” she said.

“That is hard work being on your feet for those long hours,” I said.

“I was in the war as an operating nurse too,” said Edith.

“Really? World War II?” I asked.

“Yes,” she smiled. Then her eyes started to tear. I put my hand on her shoulder. She looked straight ahead then looked up at me.

“It was such a long time ago,” she cried. I continued to put my hand on her shoulder. “It was such a long time ago,” she repeated. I could tell Edith was having a difficult time with getting older and probably dying. At 90 years of age it could happen at anytime. This was terrifying for the elderly…the unknown although they knew they were going to die sometime.

I knew many of the older population in nursing homes felt helpless. They lost their independence years ago and continued to lose their ability to do simple activities of daily living such as cooking, cleaning themselves, fix their hair, brush their teeth, clean their clothes…etc. Many were almost totally dependent on the nursing home staff. The life of a nursing home resident such as Edith was sleeping, watching television, eating, and sitting in the wheelchair. Some had hobbies such as crocheting or reading. Edith would stay in bed all day long if the staff allowed her to.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” said Edith through her tears. I did a quick assessment by listening to her heart and lungs. I looked at her skin on her legs and arms.

“You are very welcome,” I said. She stopped crying. “You let me and Joe know if you need anything,” I said as I took her hand. Edith smiled. We left to see other residents. My heart goes out to the elderly in nursing homes. I was happy to hear she had family visit her everyday. Many residents in nursing homes do not get visitors. They are the forgotten. They are the part of the population the average person does not think about. That is very sad indeed.