As I am on my way to visit my Uncle Ken at his new residence, Kimwell Nursing Home, I can’t help but think of all the great memories I have of him. We would spend every Easter with him & my Aunt Mabel at their house, and my 2 sisters and I took a nice picture with Uncle Ken every year. He was always a very happy, lively man who loved to joke around with us kids.Unfortunately my aunt passed away & my uncle was now lonely. I tried my best along with the rest of my family to take care of him at home, but as he got older,now 96, it became obvious that he needed more than what we could give him. Now, I am gong to visit him in this place that isn’t his home & definitely doesn’t feel like home.
As I walk towards the building I always get on overwhelming feeling of sadness. I hate that my uncle has to be in here & that he has lost all that happiness he once had inside of him. I can’t even imagine how it feels to have to sell almost everything you ever owned & move into a strange place, with strange faces everywhere. I always think he feels like we just gave up on him, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He needed the help that only a skilled facility could provide.
I finally get into the building & as soon as I enter there is a man sitting at a little desk, with a big book in front of him. That big book is where we have to “sign in” with our name, who we are there to visit, & the time we are entering. It makes this place feel more like a jail than anything else. It definitely doesn’t help the guilt of having my uncle in here to begin with. As I walk through the glass doors and towards my Uncle Ken’s room, I pass the big glass windows where the staff is usually doing all their work. None of them ever even look up to acknowledge a visitor,makes the visits even more depressing. These are the people my uncle spends everyday with now.
Of course when I reach my uncle’s room he is not there. He loves to just wander the halls in his wheelchair,so now I must walk around to track him down. As I walk down the hall I hear a group of people that sound like their having a great time in one of the big sitting rooms. I decide to peak in & discover about 10 people sitting on aluminum chairs, positioned in a circle. They were all tossing a ball around & whenever someone caught it they would yell, “yeah!”. I assume it was for physical therapy and with each catch they were getting stronger. The man in charge of this group seemed to really care about each person there, as he cheered every time the ball was caught. It’s nice to see such a happy, lively group in this big brick jungle.
I continue down the hall and spot my uncle at the end of the hall making a u-turn to continue his laps around the floor. He sees me and I get a little smile from him. Nothing like the huge smiles I got every morning when I was at his house taking care of him. He seems to have lost his spirit. As always he asks me how my boyfriend, Jason, is doing and if he is taking good care of me. He is in this strange place with strange faces and all he ever cares about is if we are all alright. Of course this doesn’t help the guilt of him having to be here at all. We continue on our walk of the halls and as some of the nurses pass they always say,”There’s Kenny with that big smile.” If they only knew how much bigger that smile used to be.
After making almost two laps around the 1st floor, I notice that the staff has begun to prepare lunch for the patients. At this time some of the patients choose to eat together in the large dining area, while others prefer to eat in their rooms. My uncle always eats in his room so I wheel him to his room and get him ready for lunch. While he was eating I walked down to the dining area to observe the patients in there. They all seem like best friends. Laughing & joking around, while the staff hands out the trays of food. The staff seem to have great relationships with every patient there. As they are handing out the food, each one has a nice conversation with the patients, almost like they are talking to their own parents. It is very nice to see that some people do care. I wish my uncle would interact more with others there, but he just seems to have lost his spirit. While the residents in the dining area eat their lunch they are also sharing stories of family members that have been to visit them that week. Some talk about their children, others grandchildren, and some even great-grandchildren. It is nice to hear these people aren’t just tossed in here and forgotten. Their families still care just as mine does about my Uncle Ken.Everyone seems to be finishing up their lunches so I decide to head back to my uncle’s room.
When I reach his door I notice that his “roommate” has also decided to eat lunch in the room. They both just sit there eating their food and don’t speak a single word to each other, big difference from the dining area. My uncle finishes his lunch and of course wants to get back to his rounds. So, here we go again. I walk on the side of his wheelchair as he wheels himself up and down the halls. As we reach the end of the hall we run into one of the other residents who seems to know my uncle. He says,”Hey Kenny,what’s up today?”. My uncle responds with just a little chuckle, a nod, and a smile, then carries on his daily route around the halls.
Unfortunately, I must leave him now as I have a class to get to. “Uncle Ken, I have to go to school, but I will check in on you soon. Do you need anything before I leave?”, I asked. He replies, “Nope.”. Then gives me one of those smiles I always love to see and says “Make sure that boyfriend of yours takes care of you.” “I will, Uncle Ken, I will. Have a great evening.” I bend down to give him a kiss and then head back out to my car. Never a good feeling when I leave him there. I just hope & pray that the staff cares for him as much as we all do. Another day walking with Uncle Ken will come tomorrow. Until then I must go on with my daily life. He is always on my mind though.
Very nicely written. My suggestion would be to try to describe the surroundings a little better so I can picture the rooms. He’s in a two bed room. Is it cramped, illuminated or dim? Does it have a home like feeling or is it more institutional. Is there any type of security doors in the building to prevent residents from leaving? What does the nursing station look like? Is the dining room decorative or grand? Or is it like other common areas? Does it have TV rooms? Some Nursing homes have sitting rooms decorated the way your home would be.
I can feel the pain that you experience when you visit, in your writing. I have worked in nursing homes since I was 17. What your experience in normal, and most people feel the same. That’s why people visit less and less, it’s depressing. Some residents never get visitors. Then tend to detach and deteriorate rather quickly. What you doing by visiting is the greatest thing you can do for him. Just seeing your face brings him joy, joy that he wouldn’t have experienced if you hadn’t come. Believe me he looks forward to it. So continue to visit, even if it’s just for five minutes. See you in class.
As I said in class, a good start–you’ve definitely got the idea of how an ethnography should work, with specific observed details. Richard did a good job with peer review giving you some questions to help flesh out the description/atmosphere of the place. (The other things that came to me were to describe his room more, both the institutional and the personal touches, and also maybe a few peaks into other rooms as you walk by. You’re set up well to do that because you’re walking the halls anyway. And any decorations or personalizations on people’s doors?) At beginning you could include more about outside and, as Richard suggests, sign-in process.
Your guilt runs very strongly through this. It’s fine to acknowledge that, but don’t dwell on it here. It will certainly color what you choose to describe and how you describe it, but try to keep the focus more on an objective presentation and analysis of this subculture.
In places, I think you could do a better job of *showing not telling*. for example, you say that staff member with the ball really seemed to care about residents–instead of just giving us that conclusion, describe the evidence that makes you say that (a man leaning down to talk to someone, touching a hand to a shoulder, telling jokes, making encouraging comments–and tell us *specifically* what he said, or recreate it.)
At the end (or beginning) you might reflect a bit about components of nursing home life. (If you’d like, feel free to add a bit of research info, stats, etc.–but this should be primarily based on your own observations.)
Let me know if you have any questions or want me to look at another version of this before you turn in final.