My mother’s nursing home is smarter than your university
Also, they seem to care whether she lives or dies.
At the worst possible time — a few months into the global pandemic the U.S. is unable or unwilling to manage intelligently — my sister and I found ourselves needing to move our 79-year-old mother into an assisted living facility. You know, those places that have been an epicenter of COVID-19 mortality, as Rachel Maddow and others never tire of reminding us? In mid-April, our mother, who had been living alone in the suburban home she and my father bought in the summer of 1969, had a medical crisis that required hospitalization. That was followed by a month in a rehabilitation center — and the dawning realization, for me and my sister, that a safe return to living at home was neither possible nor desirable, medically, financially, or any other way.
As anyone can tell you, this transition is rarely easy or simple. In many ways, it’s comparable to sending a child off to college. Even with a parent who is basically agreeable (which frequently they are not), finding the right place, figuring out how to pay for it. And actually carrying out the move is a major undertaking. Its logistical and psychological dimensions are huge.
Now, add a pandemic. Los Angeles County, where we live, is the most populous county in the United…
