Getting My Act Together

When you spend as much time with old folks in hospitals, doctor's offices, and nursing homes as I do (by my conservative estimate, 67 days so far this year...) you start to figure out a few things. Up until these past few weeks, though, it hadn't sunk in with me how in-shape I'll need to be when I'm an official geezerette.

In the old days, they used to call retirement homes and skilled nursing facilities "rest homes." That was then, baby. From what I've seen, ain't no couch potatoes allowed.

If you imagine that you can start slowing down a little when your kids move out, and then a bit more when your AARP card qualifies you for a 10% discount at Denny's, watch out! By the time you are admitted to the nursing home of your children's choice, you won't have the strength left to keep up with your next-bed neighbor.

Let me warn you, it's a jungle out there.

My mother, who's in a nursing home to receive physical and occupational therapy so that she can go back to her independent-living apartment in a retirement village, sure wishes now she'd taken daily chair-exercise class more seriously. Instead, she pretended she was on an extended vacation in Vegas and concentrated on winning at Bingo.

Who knew one little fall would propel her into such an athletic environment that she'd be expected to endure two hours of sweat-breaking exercise per day?

"To think I only won a lousy 50 cents right before the fall," she says, looking back on her chosen sedentary lifestyle. "Fifty cents won't get you too far if you land in one of these joints. Better to spend an hour walking around the courtyard, building up those quads. Believe me, you're gonna need them where you're going."

And if leg lifts with five-pound weights and learning to scrub under an arm that's strapped to your chest aren't enough, there are plenty of cognitive skills to be brushed up on in the nursing home, too.

In group physical therapy, the wheelchaired patients circled up to play a game of ring toss. At the end, the therapist wanted to declare a winner by asking each player to add up his or her own points.

"How about you, Mary?" she asked. "You've got 100 plus 25 plus 10. What's that total?"

"How should I know?" my mother responded. "My daughter balances my checkbook, and even she has to use a calculator."

"That's right!" another particpant exclaimed. "Nobody can do it without a calculator anymore!"

A third player didn't hesitate to throw her weight around. "At least we used to be able to do it on paper! What do you think this is, the Depression?"

The therapist, aptly recognizing that a mutiny was in her future, awarded each player a prize (a small bag of kettle corn) so that no one's self-esteem would suffer more than anyone else's. I'll tell you, these old folks really know how to work the system.

Today was the piece de resistance, the single most eye-opening nursing-home activity I've yet witnessed, one that will forever be etched in my mind's eye. When I passed the group therapy room, there sat two teams of patients with a net spread between them, playing Wheelchair Volleyball!

Let me just say I hyperventilated for a couple minutes at the sight. I've always felt, from earliest childhood, that every ball I've encountered has a personal vendetta against me. I flinch whenever one is released into the air, because if it's anywhere except firmly in the hands of another, it's out to get me.

I practically ran to my mother's room, craving her solace and protection. "Mom, you know what they're doing over in group therapy? Wheelchair volleyball! I hate volleyball! Remember how horrible I was at it? Is this what I have to look forward to?"

Evidently she's gotten her act together in the two weeks she's been in geezer boot camp, 'cause she didn't cut me any slack. "Oh, grow up," she said. "What's the big deal about a beach ball hitting you in the face? You're a big girl now."

It all goes to prove the truth of what one wise centarian said when asked if he had any tips for longevity. "Not really. But I'll tell you one thing: If I'd known I was going to live to be one hundred, I'd have taken better care of myself."

So I'm going to start working out again, if only to stay ahead of the long-term-care curve. Lucky for me, Walmart's got a clearance rack full of beach balls.

Posted by Katy on 08/24/05 at 07:57 PM

Fallible Comments...

Your entry had me chuckling hard today! I used to be one of those recreation therapist who worked with folks like your mom. Our patients favorite sport was bowling. As fun as it was for them...it was a LOT of work for me! First you had to set up the pins by hand...then bring the next bowler up to the ramp and help them adjust it "just right". Everyone got two shots. So when the ball went down the ramp I had to go chasing it and fetch it...then let them roll it again...then bend over and start setting all those pins back in place! Your blog brought back some real memories for me today! God bless those hard working therapists! Thanks for sharing!
-----
Posted by Tonya Roberts on 08/25/05 at 05:32 AM
Katy,
I don't have an e-mail address to get in contact with you, so here is an unrelated comment...

Have you heard of PaperbackSwap.com? http://www.paperbackswap.com/index.php

A guy that graduated from my college last year started this and it seems to be taking off. He came to my Small Bus. Mgt class today and presented.

Strangely enough, you were the first person I thought about... as I do believe you have posted about having tons of books laying around and needing to find a home for them. I think you'd enjoy it, and I hope you don't see this as spamming. I have no connection to the site... and sincerely did think of the books laying around your house! :)

Cheers,
Kevin
Posted by Kevin M. on 08/25/05 at 06:21 AM
Katy, keep these wonderful pre-Alzheimerian posts coming. They've got to have a future somewhere, secured together in a book!
Posted by violet on 08/25/05 at 07:34 AM
Wheelchair volleyball? ACK! I hate volleyball! It hurts my delicate little forearms. I guess beach balls would at least be a little gentler, but still...the mere idea of it kind of makes one hope to die young.
Posted by Mary on 08/25/05 at 05:59 PM
great post, katy..that 100 year old had me laughing, too ;)

As for the side comment..in the same spirit, i've discovered 'freecycling'..run a google search, find a group near you, and share the love! (not to mention the stuff...)
Posted by lisa on 08/26/05 at 03:00 AM
Thank the Lord I excel at volleyball. :) (I'll bet Miss Reardon loves it, too. Hee, hee...
Posted by Bridget on 08/26/05 at 06:35 AM
Tonya--My hat is off to anyone who works with the elderly--for pay or otherwise. Those old folks really keep us hopping, don't they? I lose weight every time one of my ladies is in a bad way...the best exercise program in the world is keeping up with our elders!

Kevin M--How could I mistake you for a spammer??? Call me crazy, but I imminently trust guys with names like Kevin Mulligan. Tee, hee. I will check out your link--it DOES sound like something I need! You are so nice to think of your book-hoarding blog buddy...thanks! :)

Violet--Well, one thing about blogging we know for sure: Themes happen. I added up all the nutty posts I've written about our moms, and I think it came to 45. That's a small book! Eventually, I will self-publish a book of McKenna stories for my siblings, based on blog entries. But who knows what else might happen??? Love to you!

Mary--I'd forgotten about the forearm pain! Volleyball is pure torture, isn't it? And yet, in the end we must all face it. Let's just hope we're on the same team....

Lisa--My daughter told me about freecycling! She's been doing it in Columbia. I am going to check into it--I'm almost too old to learn new tricks, but not quite... :)

Bridget--Tee, hee! Who knew my old PE teacher would end up in the same nursing home as Mom? But she hated me and LOVED you!! Hey, you and Miss Reardon can play volleyball to your heart's content... (I didn't see her at the net, by the way!)
Posted by Katy on 08/26/05 at 06:58 PM
I used to laugh when I heard the term "Sandwich Generation". That was until I realized I'd become the grape jelly in the PB&J of life. It's so nice to come here and read your tales. Kindred spirits are the nice tall glass of cold milk that makes the peanut butter go down so much easier. Thanks for that.

And bless your heart.
Posted by Jennifer on 08/29/05 at 03:24 AM
Love the book idea about Mom. Between your stories and mine, we'd probably have a bestseller! :)
Posted by Bridget on 08/29/05 at 07:45 AM

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Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	Getting My Act Together When you spend as much time with old folks in hospitals, doctor's offices, and nursing homes as I do (by my conservative estimate, 67 days so far this year...) you start to figure out a few things. Up until these past few weeks, though, it hadn't sunk in with me how in-shape I'll need to be when I'm an official geezerette. In the old days, they used to call retirement homes and skilled nursing facilities "rest homes." That was then, baby. From what I've seen, ain't no couch potatoes allowed. If you imagine that you can start slowing down a little when your kids move out, and then a bit more when your AARP card qualifies you for a 10% discount at Denny's, watch out! By the time you are admitted to the nursing home of your children's choice, you won't have the strength left to keep up with your next-bed neighbor. Let me warn you, it's a jungle out there. My mother, who's in a nursing home to receive physical and occupational therapy so that she can go back to her independent-living apartment in a retirement village, sure wishes now she'd taken daily chair-exercise class more seriously. Instead, she pretended she was on an extended vacation in Vegas and concentrated on winning at Bingo. Who knew one little fall would propel her into such an athletic environment that she'd be expected to endure two hours of sweat-breaking exercise per day? "To think I only won a lousy 50 cents right before the fall," she says, looking back on her chosen sedentary lifestyle. "Fifty cents won't get you too far if you land in one of these joints. Better to spend an hour walking around the courtyard, building up those quads. Believe me, you're gonna need them where you're going." And if leg lifts with five-pound weights and learning to scrub under an arm that's strapped to your chest aren't enough, there are plenty of cognitive skills to be brushed up on in the nursing home, too. In group physical therapy, the wheelchaired patients circled up to play a game of ring toss. At the end, the therapist wanted to declare a winner by asking each player to add up his or her own points. "How about you, Mary?" she asked. "You've got 100 plus 25 plus 10. What's that total?" "How should I know?" my mother responded. "My daughter balances my checkbook, and even she has to use a calculator." "That's right!" another particpant exclaimed. "Nobody can do it without a calculator anymore!" A third player didn't hesitate to throw her weight around. "At least we used to be able to do it on paper! What do you think this is, the Depression?" The therapist, aptly recognizing that a mutiny was in her future, awarded each player a prize (a small bag of kettle corn) so that no one's self-esteem would suffer more than anyone else's. I'll tell you, these old folks really know how to work the system. Today was the piece de resistance, the single most eye-opening nursing-home activity I've yet witnessed, one that will forever be etched in my mind's eye. When I passed the group therapy room, there sat two teams of patients with a net spread between them, playing Wheelchair Volleyball! Let me just say I hyperventilated for a couple minutes at the sight. I've always felt, from earliest childhood, that every ball I've encountered has a personal vendetta against me. I flinch whenever one is released into the air, because if it's anywhere except firmly in the hands of another, it's out to get me. I practically ran to my mother's room, craving her solace and protection. "Mom, you know what they're doing over in group therapy? Wheelchair volleyball! I hate volleyball! Remember how horrible I was at it? Is this what I have to look forward to?" Evidently she's gotten her act together in the two weeks she's been in geezer boot camp, 'cause she didn't cut me any slack. "Oh, grow up," she said. "What's the big deal about a beach ball hitting you in the face? You're a big girl now." It all goes to prove the truth of what one wise centarian said when asked if he had any tips for longevity. "Not really. But I'll tell you one thing: If I'd known I was going to live to be one hundred, I'd have taken better care of myself." So I'm going to start working out again, if only to stay ahead of the long-term-care curve. Lucky for me, Walmart's got a clearance rack full of beach balls. Posted by Katy on 08/24/05 at 07:57 PM Fallible Comments... Your entry had me chuckling hard today! I used to be one of those recreation therapist who worked with folks like your mom. Our patients favorite sport was bowling. As fun as it was for them...it was a LOT of work for me! First you had to set up the pins by hand...then bring the next bowler up to the ramp and help them adjust it "just right". Everyone got two shots. So when the ball went down the ramp I had to go chasing it and fetch it...then let them roll it again...then bend over and start setting all those pins back in place! Your blog brought back some real memories for me today! God bless those hard working therapists! Thanks for sharing! ----- Posted by Tonya Roberts on 08/25/05 at 05:32 AM Katy, I don't have an e-mail address to get in contact with you, so here is an unrelated comment... Have you heard of PaperbackSwap.com? http://www.paperbackswap.com/index.php A guy that graduated from my college last year started this and it seems to be taking off. He came to my Small Bus. Mgt class today and presented. Strangely enough, you were the first person I thought about... as I do believe you have posted about having tons of books laying around and needing to find a home for them. I think you'd enjoy it, and I hope you don't see this as spamming. I have no connection to the site... and sincerely did think of the books laying around your house! :) Cheers, Kevin Posted by Kevin M. on 08/25/05 at 06:21 AM Katy, keep these wonderful pre-Alzheimerian posts coming. They've got to have a future somewhere, secured together in a book! Posted by violet on 08/25/05 at 07:34 AM Wheelchair volleyball? ACK! I hate volleyball! It hurts my delicate little forearms. I guess beach balls would at least be a little gentler, but still...the mere idea of it kind of makes one hope to die young. Posted by Mary on 08/25/05 at 05:59 PM great post, katy..that 100 year old had me laughing, too ;) As for the side comment..in the same spirit, i've discovered 'freecycling'..run a google search, find a group near you, and share the love! (not to mention the stuff...) Posted by lisa on 08/26/05 at 03:00 AM Thank the Lord I excel at volleyball. :) (I'll bet Miss Reardon loves it, too. Hee, hee... Posted by Bridget on 08/26/05 at 06:35 AM Tonya--My hat is off to anyone who works with the elderly--for pay or otherwise. Those old folks really keep us hopping, don't they? I lose weight every time one of my ladies is in a bad way...the best exercise program in the world is keeping up with our elders! Kevin M--How could I mistake you for a spammer??? Call me crazy, but I imminently trust guys with names like Kevin Mulligan. Tee, hee. I will check out your link--it DOES sound like something I need! You are so nice to think of your book-hoarding blog buddy...thanks! :) Violet--Well, one thing about blogging we know for sure: Themes happen. I added up all the nutty posts I've written about our moms, and I think it came to 45. That's a small book! Eventually, I will self-publish a book of McKenna stories for my siblings, based on blog entries. But who knows what else might happen??? Love to you! Mary--I'd forgotten about the forearm pain! Volleyball is pure torture, isn't it? And yet, in the end we must all face it. Let's just hope we're on the same team.... Lisa--My daughter told me about freecycling! She's been doing it in Columbia. I am going to check into it--I'm almost too old to learn new tricks, but not quite... :) Bridget--Tee, hee! Who knew my old PE teacher would end up in the same nursing home as Mom? But she hated me and LOVED you!! Hey, you and Miss Reardon can play volleyball to your heart's content... (I didn't see her at the net, by the way!) Posted by Katy on 08/26/05 at 06:58 PM I used to laugh when I heard the term "Sandwich Generation". That was until I realized I'd become the grape jelly in the PB&J of life. It's so nice to come here and read your tales. Kindred spirits are the nice tall glass of cold milk that makes the peanut butter go down so much easier. Thanks for that. And bless your heart. Posted by Jennifer on 08/29/05 at 03:24 AM Love the book idea about Mom. Between your stories and mine, we'd probably have a bestseller! :) Posted by Bridget on 08/29/05 at 07:45 AM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: Tickled Pink Previous entry: The Two Best Days Of My Life! << Back to main


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Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

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Getting My Act Together

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri