Should I stay or should I go?
After 30 years of calling the same semi-detached townhouse in Richmond my home, I made the very difficult decision to move into a care or communal living facility. That decision was the start of an interesting journey of soul-searching, research, and change. With the advantage of hindsight, I have written this personal account of the steps involved in moving, in the hope the information I share will be helpful for seniors who, sooner or later, will be faced with a similar, often difficult, decision.
While some seniors have the choice of living with relatives, most will have to wrestle with the question of where they want to spend the last part of their lives.
There are always mitigating factors in the multi-faceted decision of whether to cope a little longer alone, or not.
My reasons for considering to move were two fold. First, I didn’t live within easy walking distance of stores, so if I lost or chose to surrender my drivers’ licence, I would be forced to move, whether I was ready or not. Secondly, I was extremely lonely. (Loneliness is the plague of old age.)
I was also mindful of the fact that if I had a stroke or a fall and was taken to a hospital, then deemed too infirm to return home, under Vancouver Coastal Health policy, I could be transported to the first available bed in a long-term care facility, virtually anywhere in the Lower Mainland. An outcome like that would not only take me away from familiar surroundings, but also make visiting difficult, if not impossible, for friends and family. So, in the summer of 2014, at age 91, I decided to investigate what sort of care or independent living facilities were available in Richmond.
Doing the research
There are a variety of choices available to seniors, depending on level of need. While I looked at some places I couldn’t afford or didn’t like, in the end I registered at three different facilities. Each one had a wait list of six months to a year. (Wait times at facilities vary greatly, and can radically change in a short time, so it’s important to check back periodically.) In order to maintain a place on waiting lists, I paid a token amount at each place to register. Each of the facilities had charming leasing officers who were willing to show me around and/or invite me for tea or a meal.
Some advice, as you make contact with each facility’s intake coordinator, ask if any of the suites are eligible for subsidy through SAFER (a provincial program known as Shelter Aid for Elderly Renters). I asked and found I was eligible to receive a small monthly subsidy. It’s not much, but every bit counts. In my case, the subsidy pays for my parking.
Of course, facility prices vary, but for the type of accommodation I was looking for, a small, one-bedroom apartment, with a balcony, ranged from $2,755 to $4,550 monthly. While those prices may seem high, they typically include three meals a day, light housekeeping once a week and a variety of entertainment and activity options, ranging from bus tours to “in house” or visiting singers, artists and other guests. In addition, there are lots of potential friends. When I was doing my research, I was continually assured that in a shared living facility there is always something to do.
Catch 22
The decision to move is just the beginning. Once made, there are many other things to think about. If you get a call telling you that you’ve reached the top of a wait list, you must decide quickly if you’ll take it, regardless of whether or not you’re actually ready to move. If you delay, you run the very real risk of being shunted down the list, losing your place at the top.
Kerry Baisley, a director with Vancouver Coastal Health in Richmond – a wonderful resource to whom I went for advice – said, “Moving to residential care can be one of the most stressful events in a senior’s life, and very little time is allowed for the decision.”
That certainly was true for me and any senior with whom I have spoken.
In my case, the sequence of events went something like this: I put my name on wait lists, then my home on the market, then spent weeks fretting. If I sold my townhouse before I was offered a place, I’d be homeless; if I was offered a place before I sold my townhouse, I couldn’t afford the move. Like many, I needed the money from the sale to make monthly payments for the new place. A real catch-22!
Luckily, I sold but requested, and received, a two-month closing date, then kept fingers crossed that something would come up within the 60 days. Thankfully, just as I sold, I was told a place was available. It wasn’t exactly the suite I was hoping for, but given what was available, I took it.
Treasures to me, junk to others
Now the fun began. I‘m not a hoarder, but 30 years in one place means a lot of accumulated stuff. Precious stuff. Then comes the truth. Many of my treasures were treasures to me but nobody else. I couldn’t sell them, and a lot of them I couldn’t even give away. Value Village and other such places did a booming business. It is very sad but true. It felt as though I was giving away a lot of myself.
Packing, it’s all about the list
Because I would be provided three meals a day, I didn’t need to pack baking utensils, although I would need a few dishes and cutlery for some entertaining — so I made a list.
I kept my pictures, a few dishes, some cutlery and stemware, bedding, plus what furniture would fit into what is called a “bedroom and den”. There is room for my queen sized bed and a dresser in the bedroom, which boasts a full wall closet. I use the “den” as an office and there is room for a single bed for an overnight guest. The dining room/kitchen combination I have separated with a very useful shelving unit, which provides extra shelf space and makes the kitchen more of a kitchen with its sink, fridge and microwave oven. I kept my toaster oven, electric frying pan, which has been a blessing, and a one-burner hot plate to heat soup when I prefer to stay in my suite instead of joining the group for meals. The place is about 600 square feet. I’m lucky to have a large balcony.
Moving is costly. I remember the old days in Vancouver when my mum and sister and I hired the Bay Transfer for $10. Now it’s hundreds of dollars, depending on the mileage and the load. It’s good if you and your belongings arrive at the same time — or at least on the same day.
Settling in, more of a loner than I thought
I never thought of myself as a loner, but I find I am. It is very difficult to insinuate myself into an established group. According to gerontologists, the death of a mate and moving are the two most disrupting and difficult adjustments faced by seniors. For me, living alone for so long had become the norm. After the move, my brain became fuzzy, I couldn’t remember names.
When I was in my own home of many years, I had what I call a “home base” from where I made decisions to visit, to shop, to go on a trip, everything. All decisions were made from that secure “home base”. When I moved, the home base didn’t move with me. My body moved but not my head. I was completely lost. I didn’t want to join any of the groups, I just wanted to be left alone to feel sorry for myself…and wonder if I’d made the right decision.
According to the professionals, it takes four to six months for a senior to feel at home in a new environment. It took me seven months, and I still don’t attend many functions. I’ve never liked rules, so I don’t like to be told when to eat and what to eat. But there aren’t many rules and all of them are for the protection of guests.
So am I glad I moved? Yes. I’m no longer lonely. I still have my driver’s licence, which gives me freedom. The fear of dying overnight by myself is gone because I hang a sign on my door handle at night, which is picked up in the morning. If I forget, someone opens the door to check.
I do try to remind myself of how lucky I am to be here with people to befriend and things to do, if I so choose.
I could be lonely again.
Nadine Jones is a former journalist with the Vancouver Sun. For more information about housing options, Google “B.C. Housing for Seniors in Richmond.”
