The Story of a Nursing Home Resident's Daughter: Jane's Story

My name is Jane, and I am taking care of my 95-year-old mother, Doris Mary. She is quite a woman. Born in 1911 in Old Town, she was the only one in her family to finish high school -- her oldest sister worked to pay for it. In 1938 she married my father and moved to Skowhegan, where they raised me, my sister and two brothers. She worked as a cook and a governess, brought up us kids, and helped my father with two businesses. He was a barber.

She was just so friendly and effervescent -- people loved her. We had her 90th birthday party a few years ago and the hall was just filled. She has always had a great sense of humor, and a real concern for other people.

I came home to care for my mother several years ago. My siblings are scattered all around -- North Carolina, New Hampshire, Wisconsin -- but being the eldest I felt I should be here. A couple years ago, however, my mother had some serious health problems and ended up in a nursing home. The nursing home she's in is the best one around, but it's not the greatest place to be in. It's clean, cheery, and they try to do what they can for morale, but the nurses are so stretched out over there. They tell me that they aren't understaffed, they're "legally staffed." Well, you say potato...

One day my mother was left unaided on the toilet stool, and she toppled over onto the tile floor. It split her head wide open, her arm was all black and blue, and it looked like she had been through the Battle of the Bulge. She was in so much pain.

I know one of the girls who was on duty when it happened. She has been really nice to my mother, and she felt so bad when it happened. There were no doctor's orders to stay with her, but if she couldn't lift her head up to eat, how can she stay on a toilet seat that's higher than the average toilet seat? The aides have so much to cover -- it's hard for some details not to slip through the cracks.

My mother is close to the end, now. My pastor said the other day, "We need to ask God to take her." I appreciate all that the aides and nurses have done for her. But as a daughter, I would have felt better if I didn't need to worry if there were enough people to give her the attention she needed. She was a good mother, a good wife, and a caregiver throughout her life. I just feel that her care could be better.