Entry tags:
Memory care
As I was walking the dogs Tuesday I encountered a delivery man and a neighbor talking to an elderly woman sitting on her walker (not quite a wheelchair, but it has a seat so you can stop and rest). The guys asked if I knew the woman and where she lived, because she was lost and couldn't remember. I didn't, but came over to help, and the woman happily scritched Bailey while we discussed the problem. She said "they" didn't want to let her leave the building, but this was the third time she had "escaped". The neighbors and I discussed the conflict between safety and autonomy, and how a senior-care institution's top priority is always "don't get sued", with resident quality of life way down the list.
She had a small purse, and went through it looking for ID cards and the like, so we found her full name (Lori <redacted>), but no address. There was a name and phone number of her friend Sarah, so we called that number and got no answer. (At some point in here![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shalmestere came out of the house and took our dogs home.) There was a prescription for physical therapy, so we called the doctor's office, gave the name, and asked where she lived. The receptionist probably violated HIPAA rules by giving us Lori's address, which was miles away in Flushing, and we were pretty sure Lori hadn't walked all that distance. The receptionist also called Lori's emergency contact, who turned out to be the same Sarah, but this time Sarah's partner answered the phone. Turns out the address the doctor's office had given us was Sarah's address, not Lori's, but Lori lived at such-and-such other address, a senior-care home four blocks away from us, which I had walked past at least a thousand times.
So with that resolved, I accompanied Lori on the four-block walk to the senior-care home; I commented on the beautiful spring weather and suggested she not try to go for a walk in the neighborhood when it's cold or raining. We had a pleasant talk along the way (and met several other people's dogs, which Lori happily scritched), got to the front door, and Lori remarked on how much it looked like the building where she lived. She sat down in the lobby, the receptionist said "Hi, Lori!", and Lori asked "Wait -- how does she know me?" Anyway, once things seemed to be in the receptionist's capable hands, I told Lori how much I had enjoyed talking to her, and walked home.
She had a small purse, and went through it looking for ID cards and the like, so we found her full name (Lori <redacted>), but no address. There was a name and phone number of her friend Sarah, so we called that number and got no answer. (At some point in here
shalmestere came out of the house and took our dogs home.) There was a prescription for physical therapy, so we called the doctor's office, gave the name, and asked where she lived. The receptionist probably violated HIPAA rules by giving us Lori's address, which was miles away in Flushing, and we were pretty sure Lori hadn't walked all that distance. The receptionist also called Lori's emergency contact, who turned out to be the same Sarah, but this time Sarah's partner answered the phone. Turns out the address the doctor's office had given us was Sarah's address, not Lori's, but Lori lived at such-and-such other address, a senior-care home four blocks away from us, which I had walked past at least a thousand times.So with that resolved, I accompanied Lori on the four-block walk to the senior-care home; I commented on the beautiful spring weather and suggested she not try to go for a walk in the neighborhood when it's cold or raining. We had a pleasant talk along the way (and met several other people's dogs, which Lori happily scritched), got to the front door, and Lori remarked on how much it looked like the building where she lived. She sat down in the lobby, the receptionist said "Hi, Lori!", and Lori asked "Wait -- how does she know me?" Anyway, once things seemed to be in the receptionist's capable hands, I told Lori how much I had enjoyed talking to her, and walked home.
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