NURSING HOME

NURSING HOME
R. D. ICE
[This is historical fiction based on things that really happened. I am remembering the past and using my imagination to fill in some of the details. I have used names and places in a fictitious way. RDI]

"Bernice, I'm happy here with you and Bertzel. But I sure do miss the hills back in Kentucky. Your Father and I lived in that coal camp. I fixed breakfast every morning for the ten hungry men who stayed in our boardinghouse. Biscuits and gravy and fried meat and lots of coffee. Those were happy days. I was young then."

"Mother, you're still young. You're only seventy. Think how long Great-Grandmother lived. Wasn't she a hundred and two when she died?"

One morning Nancy didn't come out of her room. Bernice tapped on the door, and then went in. "Bertzel! Something has happened to Mother!"

He came running. He could see that Nancy's face was all twisted. She lay motionless and unresponsive.

When the Doctor came out to speak to them, his face was sad. "I'm sorry. It's a massive stroke. Your mother likely will never be any better."

Bernice clung to her husband and buried her face in his shoulder.

"Thanks, Doctor," he said. "We appreciate you telling us. We were afraid of that. You're sure there is nothing that can be done?"

"I'm sorry. I have seen this many times. All you can do is make her comfortable for the time she has left. She could live a few more years. She may seem more alert at times But it will probably be only a few months. She will require full-time care. You will need to see to that."

Bernice and Bertzel sat on the couch and just held each other. This was a crisis that would not go away. Bertzel's job had brought them to Cape Girardeau, Missouri, far away from the Kentucky hills.

"We've got to make a decision," Bertzel said. "The Doctor said you wouldn't be able to take care of her by yourself. Our family is back there. Who could we hire to help and what would it cost?"

"I know," Bernice said. "But what can we do? I despise putting her in a nursing home. But at least there she would be taken care of around the clock. We've got to take her back to Kentucky. She would be at home back there. She would hear people who speak words like she was used to."

"But how will we pay for it? We don't have that much money."

"Father had Miner's Insurance. It'll go farther back home. We'll have to pay some extra, but I think it could be done. And there are relatives near Paintsville who would look in on her from time to time."

"Well, if you think so. We can't very well ask her how she feels about it. We could try to tell her, though. Maybe her eyes will show us." They went into her room.

"Mother. How would you like to go home to the Kentucky hills?"

Although she could not utter a word, it seemed to them that her eyes sparkled with joy at the thought of going back home.

"It's settled, then," said Bertzel. "We will make the arrangements and plan to take you home to the hills."


By Monday of the following week things were ready. A mattress had been placed in the rear of the station wagon for Nancy. Pillows would be packed around her. She would ride in comfort.
With everything finally ready, Bertzel drove across the bridge into Illinois heading east. They would soon be in the western edge of Kentucky, with some 330 more miles to go to the hills in the eastern part.

A car came toward them, careening out of control.

"Look out! He's going to hit us!"

The oncoming driver sideswiped the station wagon and sped on without stopping. The force hurled them into the ditch, turning the station wagon over on its side. They sat, stunned, for a few moments, then Bertzel pushed the door open to climb out.

"What happened?" A State Trooper looked in the open door.

"He ran us off the road!" Bernice shouted. "He must have been drunk! And he didn't stop! My Mother! My Mother is hurt!"

Bertzel climbed out and then helped Bernice as she struggled up over the seats to get out of the station wagon.

They followed the Trooper as he went to the rear and opened the door.

"Mother! Are you all right?" Bernice asked.

"She can't speak," Bertzel said to the Trooper. "She's had a stroke. We are on our way back to her home in East Kentucky."

By now the Emergency Squad had arrived. The medics lifted Nancy out and put her on a stretcher, then began checking her vital signs.

"She's going to be all right. Those pillows protected her. She has a nasty bruise on her forehead, and a few scratches. But she's OK. We will transport her to the clinic and have her checked by the Doctor. Both of you better get checked too."

"It could have been worse." Bertzel and Bernice were at the Motel. "Bernice, your Mother will be all right. And we're OK. It surely could have been worse. The garage will pound out the fenders so we can drive the station wagon. We can go on tomorrow."


The rest of the drive was uneventful. They arrived at the Silver Star Nursing Home. Nancy was carried in and put to bed.

"I can hardly bear to leave her here and go back to Cape Girardeau," Bernice said tearfully.

"I know. But what choice do we have? It's for the best. She will be at home here. And they will take good care of her."

Bernice shook her head. What else could they do? She was resigned.

"Bertzel, while we are here, let's drive out to Meally, to the cemetery where Dad is buried. I want to put flowers on his grave one more time."

"Sure," Bertzel said. "It'll help get your mind off things. We could drive over the mountain to see the old home place too."


A few days later they said their last good-bys to Nancy. Bertzel had to get back to his job. He had been gone too long now.

The Silver Star Nursing Home was clean and smelled reasonably fresh. One of the aides was making her morning rounds.

"How are we today, Nancy? I'm Ann, your caretaker for today. I'll be seeing you often. Just ring if you need anything. Oh, I'm sorry. You can't do that, can you? Well, we'll look in on you from time to time. You're at home here in Silver Star and you'll get loving care from all of us."

Nancy mumbled, "Nora."

And she did get loving care. From Ann, Janice, Judy, and others who were care-givers in Silver Star. These care-givers also had grandmothers and aunts and uncles and many relatives. They dearly loved them all and understood what was needed. They did feel concern for these patients. Yes, they were worked to death and there was never enough time. But they did the best they could. And it was sufficient.

Roger, a grandson, came to visit. His wife, Amy, was expecting their first child.

"Grandmother. How are you today? They're taking good care of you. You're looking well. This is a nice, clean place. Your room looks so cheery.

Grandmother, this is Amy. We're going to have a baby! Isn't that grand!"

Amy leaned over to give Nancy a big hug.

Nancy slowly reached up to touch Amy's tummy. "Nora?" she said.

"That's right," said Amy. "We're having a baby. A few months yet."

Nancy managed a lop-sided smile. If she could have spoken, she would have said: "I'm so happy Roger finally got married and that I will have some more grandchildren." But "Nora" was the only word she could utter.

Ann and the others could understand "Nora." They could read faces and interpret the signs. Sometimes they got the bedpan in time. Other times they just cleaned up. Ann's husband, Jim, mopped floors and kept things clean. As nursing homes go, Silver Star was one of the best.

Several months went by. Bernice and Bertzel came at least every month to visit. Relatives came more often. Everyone was so busy these days. The nursing home staff did its part. Nancy received good care. The Doctor came to check every now and then. He prescribed medication. Nancy was turned in the bed every few hours. No bed sores for her. If Nancy could have spoken, she would have said: "I am at home. These are my family. It's good to be back in these Kentucky hills where I belong."

She mumbled, "Nora."

But time runs out. Nancy grew worse. Her eyesight failed. She could not eat, only sip water. It was pointless to use heroic methods. Her legs and feet became very cold and turned blue. Her hands were like ice.

Then one night Nancy went to sleep and would never wake up in this world again. The Doctor was called and he came to check and to sign the death certificate. Nancy was at rest.

Families come from miles away to get together at two times: Weddings and Funerals. Some who are in foreign countries are unable to come. But everyone else will attend the occasion to honor those getting married, or those being buried. Joy. Sadness. But also a time of family reunion. Seeing those whose faces have grown strange as so much time has passed.

The mourners wept as they filed by the casket for one last farewell. They said things like: "She just looks asleep." "She is at peace." "She looks thirty years younger, doesn't she." "He certainly is a wonderful funeral director. He really cares."

Preacher Scott from the Christian Church preached the funeral. He gave his usual message of hope and comfort. Then the mourners went out to their cars. With the funeral coach leading, the procession began to the little village of Meally, a few miles out from Paintsville.

The casket was carried to the grave site. The mourners gathered around.

Preacher Scott read the 23rd Psalm and then prayed. He shook hands with the family. Some gave him a big hug.

It was over. Nancy would rest here forever amid the Kentucky hills until Jesus Comes and the graves open and the dead arise.

The mourners turned to leave and go their separate ways until the next time they would be called together for a wedding or a funeral. Family means so much, especially as we get older.