A trip to heaven’s waiting room
My stomach was in knots and my hands began to sweat as I drove past the entrance of Life Care Center of Estero and saw seven elderly people in wheelchairs lined up outside with their heads down. I continued driving and chose a parking space that was the farthest from the building. I immediately regretted my decision in coming here. I sat in my car and considered going home, accepting defeat and taking a zero for the assignment.
When my professor said we had to do something that took us out of our comfort zone, I knew it was finally time for me to gather all my courage and do the thing I’ve always dreaded. Growing up my mom always tried to get me to volunteer with elderly people, but I’ve stayed away from nursing homes for a reason: they symbolized death for me.
Before I entered Life Care Center of Estero, I had to organize my expectations. I was nervous; I never been to a nursing home before. The idea of talking to these elderly citizens with differing life perspectives didn’t seem enlightening, but instead felt terrifying.
What if they were rude? How would I go about approaching someone for an interview? Would they want to speak with me?
A nursing home seemed like one big symbol for the end of life. The people who live there are constantly needing help to do even the most basic of tasks, under constant watch and care. This made me worried, picturing my eventual lack of independence in the future.
After sitting in my car for 15 minutes contemplating whether I should stay or go I decided it was time for me to stop being a baby, suck it up and make my way toward the yellow building.
My nerves grew with each step. What was I going to tell them I was here for? I couldn’t flat out say I was here because old people freak me out and I had no other choice but to hangout with them for a grade. I shook the thought from my head and continued walking, trying my best not to make eye contact with any of the residents sitting outside.
I went through the automatic sliding door and was immediately hit with a sterile smell that reminded me of a hospital. I approached the front desk and spoke to the receptionist about volunteering. My nerves were eased as he assured me I would be able to volunteer that day. All I had to do was fill out a form and I’d be ready to go.
I took the form and a pen and went to the waiting room by the front entrance. As I was writing down my contact information I heard a voice from down the hall shouting, “They took all my money! I need to go get my money!” Within seconds a frail old lady in a wheelchair appeared. She was wheeling her way down the hall heading straight towards the front doors about to make her great escape. When the doors wouldn’t open she began banging on them screaming that she needed to go get her money. I felt frozen in my seat as I watched the nurses try to calm her down and take her back to her room. What was I getting myself into?
The activities director, Janet, told me I could help her pass out drinks at lunch.
I followed her down the hall into the dining area where I was greeted by 16 residents. Every single one of them was either in a wheelchair or using a walker to get around. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for them with their limited mobility.
Janet knows each person’s order by heart so she took control in making the drinks and pointed me in the direction in which they belong. I went around table to table handing everyone their drink; most said thank you, some offered a sweet smile and others were asleep in their seats. I then went back around and put bibs on those who wanted them.
When we were done Janet told me to feel free to talk to anyone there. I was nervous to have a one-on-one with someone. There was no way I’d be able to hold a conversation with a person three times my age. Janet sensed my hesitation and pointed out a woman in the corner.
“That’s Maria. She loves talking to people try going up to her; I’ll be in my office if you need me,” Janet said.
I took a deep breath and walked towards the back of the room. I introduced myself to Maria and instantly felt relieved when she told me to have a seat and talk with her.
Maria was a heavyset woman in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank attached to the back. For being 86 years old she looked fantastic. She had short brown hair, her long nails were painted bright orange and her eyeliner was thick and black. Maria put down her Samsung phone and immediately started telling me the hot gossip going on in the nursing home.
She told me everything from the argument that broke out during bingo a few nights ago to the evil lady who comes to visit her husband every weekend. Maria pulled her phone back out and showed me pictures of her boyfriends. Yes, you read that correctly – boyfriends. Maria says she likes to keep her relationships open so she can receive as much love as possible. Her favorite partner is Micky, he’s a 43-year-old transgender who works as an Elvis and Michael Jackson impersonator, she raved about him for at least 20 minutes.
“I’m a cougar, you know what that is? I like my men half my age so I can feel young,” Maria said.
Maria had been making jokes all morning. I could feel the tension leaving my body and for the first time that day I had a genuine smile on my face.
After a while, Maria began to groan and had a twisted look of pain on her face. I asked her what was wrong and she told me she had a rough night and didn’t get any sleep. Constant pain keeps her up all night.
She told me about her fear of dying and the aches and pains she feels every day. My heart ached for Maria. She was diagnosed with osteoarthritis in her hips and uterine cancer that has spread to her lymph nodes.
“Six months ago I was given three months to live,” Maria said. “It’s a miracle I’ve gotten this far, but every time I feel the slightest pain I fear that this is it.”
I held Maria’s hand as she cried and told her it’s OK to be scared. To lighten the mood, I offered to wheel her around the facility. We stopped by the nurse’s station so Maria could take her medicine and replace her oxygen tank. Afterwards, we went to Maria’s room where I met her roommate. I helped them put up decorations to make the room look more cheerful. Maria was back to her happy smiling self.
I looked up at the clock and noticed it was already 1:30 p.m., I had been there for over two hours. I wheeled Maria back to the dining area for lunch and we said our goodbyes.
“Sweetie, thank you so much for coming today, you don’t know how much it means to me to have someone to talk to,” Maria said.
I gave her a hug and promised I’d be back to visit her sometime soon. Maria waved goodbye until she could no longer see me.
I can’t believe I almost let fear and anxiety stop me from experiencing a moment like this.
I made my way back towards my car this time making sure to look each and every resident that was sitting outside in the eye.
