PANDEMIC REFLECTIONS: Caring from Afar

The Covid-19 Pandemic that has rocked our world since March has taken the lives of more than 169,000 Americans, John Hopkins University reported today. Internationally, 769,000 have died. Add human factors like empty chairs at kitchen tables; bare cubicles in offices; and vacant spaces on assembly lines, then the impact is more enormous.

The losses, however, extend far beyond the number of graveside services held or birthday parties cancelled. They include students who have missed high school and college milestones; postponed weddings; and special memories that can’t be re-created. They include children with learning disabilities, cerebral palsy and autism who have regressed educationally because they can’t receive face-to-face instruction and services from specially trained teachers and support staff. They include family businesses that have been forced to close and will never open again. Finally, they include people who have worked hard their entire lives, lost their jobs, and now can’t afford their mortgages. So many dreams have been deferred.

This infectious disease has also thwarted the type care that Americans have come to expect from our hospitals and our nursing facilities. Temperature checks outside of physician offices; waits in cars as sick loved ones receive emergency attention; and limited or no visitor policies have become the new normal. Family-centered care has been replaced by “essential” patient-centered services.

The Pandemic is stressful enough for those of us who are not in what my grand aunt, who passed away at 100 this spring, termed the “Golden Age.” I can’t imagine how difficult it is for elderly members of our population who are dealing with conditions that affect them cognitively or neurologically. I think of a news story about a woman whose husband has Alzheimer’s disease and is confined to a facility. Because of Corona’s restrictions regarding visitations, she had not been able to see him, so she cleverly landed a job at the facility – which enabled her access.

Now she doesn’t have to “care” from afar.

But caring from afar is what countless family members with loved ones in nursing and assisted living homes are having to do. Updates on family members are defined by text messages and Facetime for the technologically savvy and otherwise able, and telephone calls to nurses’ stations for others of us.

One of my cousins, not quite 70, has dementia and lives in a skilled nursing convalescent center. During the early period of her residency, her husband visited more than once a day – not to just fellowship and assess her overall wellbeing, but to help ensure that she ate at mealtime. Over these past five months, I’ve thought about her often. I’ve wondered how much she understands about his not being there, and I’ve thought about how hard it must be for him to live less than five minutes away – unable to do the things she’d grown to expect. Does she imagine that any moment he’ll be walking into her room? Does she wonder if her children still love her? Does she understand why her favorite stylist is no longer doing her hair? Does she feel abandoned? Does her husband have trouble sleeping? How is he coping?

He has to care from afar.

And then, there’s our Uncle Lee. He’s 77 years old, severely mentally disabled, nonverbal since birth, and lives in the same care facility. As his official next of kin, I remember vividly the lunchtime call I received saying that a no visitors’ directive was in place. Expected news, it still hit me like a ton of bricks. For several weeks, I couldn’t see him. Calls to the nurses’ station to check on him helped, but the caring from afar has been agonizing.

Pictures of family members visiting loved ones from windows began to pop up on television and over the Internet, and I thought there had to be a way for me to do the same even though Lee’s room is not on the facility’s outside perimeter. So I drove the 45 minutes there, called the nurses’ station, and asked that he wheel himself to the dayroom’s window. As he made his way to me that first time, I stood there masked and crying. Now with the spread of COVID among the center’s population, even those visits have ceased or become few and far between. Thankfully, my uncle has not tested positive for the virus, but because he’s been exposed to others who have, he’s been quarantined more than once – not able to move about freely – for his and others’ safety.

It’s Sunday morning, and at 6:20 a.m. as I penned this piece, my mobile phone rang. The word “RESTRICTED” appeared. I considered not answering, but I’m glad I did: It was the nursing home. My stomach turned in knots as the nurse identified herself. She reported that Lee had “fallen without injury” as he attempted to transition on his own from the bed to the wheelchair, while she stepped away momentarily to get a pillowcase to cover his feeding tube. Thankfully, that wasn’t a COVID call.

When an assisted living or skilled nursing facility is the best option for a loved one, the family – despite the ability to visit or the frequency of the visits – learns to care from afar and to expect phone calls late at night or early mornings when something isn’t right.

But there are always questions. Did our family make the right decision about placing him there? Could we have chosen a “better” place? Is she doing ok? Is he being treated with compassion? Are staff doing right by her?

Caring from afar is always hard. And COVID-19 magnifies the difficulty a thousand times over.

I am forever reminded that we are at the mercy of those who care for our loved ones. So during this Pandemic, I pray for knowledgeable, merciful, compassionate, nursing home staff members; for their safety and well-being; that God would protect the residents from this frightful disease; and that our loved ones always feel God’s presence even when we family members are far away.

SCRIPTURES

Do not withhold your mercy from me Lord; Let your loving kindness and Your truth continually preserve me. (Psalm 40:11)

Blessed are the merciful, For they shall receive mercy. (Matthew 5:7)

Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit. (Romans 15:13)

For You, oh Lord, are a shield for me, My glory, and the One who lifts up my head. (Psalm 3:3)

The Lord shall preserve you from all evil; He shall preserve your soul. The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in From this time forth, and even forevermore. (Psalm 121: 7-8)

Rejoice in the Lord, always; Again, I say rejoice! Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be known unto God, and the peace of God which surpasses all understanding, shall guard your hearts through Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:4-7)