Brenda Harvey from Wilkes Barre Recalls Her Experiences at the Laurels at Wyoming and North Penn Manor.

My dad will be 93 this month. I am his only child. My mom is deceased. Dad lived at the Laurels for almost three years. The cost of the room increased to $2,200 per month, which we could no longer afford. I wanted to keep him there because he was so accustomed to it and knew his way to the dining room, etc.

The care seemed adequate although the room was often not well cleaned and clothing missing or stuffed into drawers. There was no secure outside area for residents and little in the way of socialization. I tried to get the Laurels to work with me on the cost or move my dad to a triple room, but I was told no triples were available;  "corporate" would require the full price.

No one cared how a move would affect my dad. Through "A Place for Mom," I found North Penn Manor, a newly opened and remodeled facility that is very clean and has a lovely outside secure area. Unfortunately, my dad has not been able to adjust to the move. His behavior deteriorated from the first day. He wanders into other rooms and can't find the restroom. The administrator is not experienced and can't deal with it. She said I would have to move him to another facility. He was even sent out to the hospital one evening because of "behavior" issues. He was sent back again at midnight.

It has been suggested that I allow him to be hospitalized for three days for unnecessary "tests" just so the Medicare option will kick in for nursing home care. I was shocked because he was hospitalized (necessarily) twice previously and developed horribly painful bed sores while there. I have contacted everyone I can think of to help, but there seems to be little in the way of assistance for those in this situation. My father is a gentle, hard working family man who should not have this happen to him at this stage of his life. I am very disappointed in the lack of help for these individuals and their families.

Jade Green from Schwenksville believes there are some positive stories to tell about assisted living facilities.

I have read so much bad stuff about assisted living facilities in PA that I thought I would write down some good experiences I have had. My grandmother moved to The Colonnade approximately three years ago. My family first checked several facilities before choosing The Colonnade. The Colonnade is very warm and inviting. We all just got a good feeling as soon as we walked in the door and were greeted by smiling faces.

They treat not only my Grandmother like family, but also they treat us like family, and that is such a good feeling. It is very comforting. We see our grandmother just about every day if not every other day and have nothing bad to say. We have never had a problem with any of the staff there with the exception of one, who apparently was let go. She was very gruff with family and staff members, but also reportedly stealing narcotics. It has been peaceful with her there, and it is sad to say that some of the best workers left because of this individual. Other than that, we have had a wonderful experience and will continue to allow our grandmother to be in good hands.

Shawn Marie Gabriel Brown talks about the tragic care of her grandmother at The Colonnade Assisted Living facility in Schwenksville, PA.

I spent almost two years taking care of my 85-year-old grandmother, Zella Gabriel, while she was living in The Colonnade Assisted Living of Schwenksville, just three blocks from my home.

I could upload a minimum of 32 pages of documentation I kept about how awful her care was while a resident there. I was in and out of the facility nearly every day and spoke to my Grandmother usually twice a day, and the administrators and medical director as often as I could to make them aware of situation.

I am not a nitpicky person; I am talking about serious issues. No matter how many times I sat down and met with the director(s) and administrators, or called the medical director doctor of the facility, I could not prevent the events that occurred in February 2009.

At the end of January 2009, my Grandmother relinquished the administration of her medications to The Colonnade. Immediately, I discovered that they were not giving out the medications on time, let alone, they did not watch her ingest the medications as state law says they are supposed to do. On many occasions, I found the meds in the original dispensing cups all over the room – in drawers, on the counter, in the bathroom, on the floor…I brought it to the attention of just about everyone working in the facility to no avail. I even took digital photos. Anyone with common sense knows that you can’t expect an 85-year-old body to adjust immediately to being under or overdosed.

Obviously, the lack of correct medicine dispensing affected my Grandmother greatly – those meds were narcotics, heart meds, etc. Unfortunately, my Grandmother had been prescribed a narcotic pain patch Fentanyl. There were two patches to be applied every three days.

But sometimes the patches would come loose after getting wet in the shower. A smart aleck med tech was applying two patches on February 24, 2009. She used MASKING TAPE on my Grandmother’s arm from her armpit to her elbow. My Grandmother told her to stop, get that tape off her and that she had medical paper tape in her drawer that I had bought for her. The med tech ignored her. Since my Grandmother had broken her thumb a year earlier while she was left outside unattended, she couldn’t get the tape off.

Another health care aid saw the mess of tape and ripped it off  her, along with the patches and threw them in the trash. Yes, the trash, not even a biohazard can! A diligent worker recovered “the trash” and saved it to show me later – and told me how the Colonnade director, nursing administrator and all med techs tried to cover this up. They were told not to call the medical director, the doctor of the facility.

When Fentanyl is covered up by another adhesive, as the instructions in the box say, the medicine overload dispenses and leaves a “skin deposit” on the patient. Fentanyl is 1,000 times more powerful than morphine. By taping up the Fentanyl patches, my Grandmother in essence received three days worth of medicine in just several hours.

Late in evening after an appointment that I had, I called my Grandmother as usual, and heard what had happened. I called the doctor myself to straighten the matter out. An order was given to give her two more patches. Unbelievably, the med tech applied the second set of patches WITH tape, again! At least she used medical tape. To say the least, I immediately secured emergency respite care for my Grandmother back home in Virginia where our family is from.

Several days after the constant under-dosing and double over dosing, my Grandmother fell, broke her hip and had a heart attack. If that wasn’t bad enough, while in the hospital awaiting surgery, someone stole her family heirloom 200+ year-old ring. While recuperating at a nursing facility under heavy pain medications for the rod in her leg, she began to act very different. We assumed it was the medications. Literally, like a flip of the light switch, we “lost” our Grandmother. She now has full dementia. It was the most rapid decline you’ve ever seen. The trauma she suffered just shut her down. It has been a very difficult road. While our family is not the suing type, on her behalf we did try to file a suit. Not for monetary reasons, but to have The Colonnade permanently lose their already “Provisional License” that they had. We wanted to have them shut down, not just for Grandmom, but for all of the other residents there.

As I mentioned, I was in and out of the facility a lot, and never saw that many family members. Who is looking out for them? Although the lawyers left no stone unturned, they couldn’t come up with a concrete case. Again, common sense says you know an 85-year-old can’t handle those physiological changes without repercussions, but because Pennsylvania has such a gray area of regulations in ALF’s, there was nothing they could do. The Department of Public Welfare sent me a letter stating that “…medications were given as provided…”

I volunteered to drive my copier box full of documentation, photos and the original medications and patches to them. They said no thanks. Yes, the Department of Public Welfare. They said they’ll re-open my case…..what’s the point? The med tech that used masking tape on the Fentanyl patches is still pushing her med cart merrily up and down the corridors of The Colonnade. She didn’t receive so much as a slap on the wrist. Did I mention that she actually gave my Grandmother’s medications to another resident one day and he got a ride to the hospital in an ambulance because he overdosed on blood thinners? Yes, she still has her job. And there are residents still at her mercy. And most of the same administration and directors are still in charge.

My grandmother, Zella May Gabriel, is not a disposable human being. She was the backbone of this great country. While my grandfather was off fighting for our freedom in WWII, she was in the Johnstown Steel Mill working as a “Rosie Riveter.” She’s not disposable. No human life is. We need to fight for better regulations in Pennsylvania. Therefore, I go but by the grace of God, this could be me someday. It could be you. It could be your family.

Lebanon, PA., resident Juanita Derrig’s sad story of her husband at Linden Village

My husband was a resident there for 2 ½  years. He had Alzheimer's Disease and the facility advertises that they are trained to work with Alzheimer's patients. However, they do a very poor job. Sometimes I was there three to four hours at a time so I saw what really went on. Supervision of the staff is very poor. The staff would sometimes sit at the desk where they could see anyone approaching for hours at a time, ignoring the residents and visiting or reading the newspaper. If someone came up the walk, they would get up and be busy. My husband was supposed to get milk with every meal and frequently if I arrived after the meal had been served, he did not have milk when I got there. He was on a mechanical soft diet and they gave him raw fruit and vegetables, which he was not supposed to eat. I observed them taking food away from residents who had not finished their meal.

Jennifer Mogle of West Chester is a former manager of Sunrise Assisted Living of Haverford. She tells the “other” side of the story.

As a former manager and employee of Sunrise for over 10 years, and a direct care provider for five years, I have more than 15 years experience in caring for seniors. I have been an eyewitness to the struggles healthcare workers face everyday. My last and most difficult experience was as a manager at Sunrise of Haverford. I read comments and stories shared by a few families who had loved ones in Sunrise of Haverford. Well, here is another side of the story. The management team at Sunrise of Haverford is people not unlike you or I. They care very much for the residents under their care. They have children, families of their own, with aging parents to tend to. The only difference is that many of us do not possess the necessary financial resources to place our loved ones in an assisted living facility.

Many management teams are forced to operate the buildings they are in charge of with budget cuts and insane directives from ‘higher ups’. More and more residents are accepted in assisted livings that require more than 24-hour direct nursing care. Yet, marketing professionals are given quotas they must meet with deadlines or their jobs are on the line. Nurses who assess residents at a higher level of care needed are told by regional executives to accept them because census is low. Executive Directors, Assisted Living Managers, and other department heads are expected to work longer hours, come in on days off, work for less pay, no annual increases, or performance reviews.
As a manager, most of your days are consumed by meetings. Staffing meetings, budget meetings, conference calls, employee meetings, family meetings, emails, voicemails, spreadsheets due, interviews, trainings, care plan meetings, where did it end? It never did.

As a manager, you are left on your own to safely provide adequate care to the residents who reside in your facility. You must meet regulatory guidelines while at the same time meeting corporate expectations. Mistakes will be made. A misplaced wheelchair pad assumed stolen by a family member would not be a priority. Even further down the list would be families who assume residents have not been involved in activities or engaged in conversations. I have heard some say perception is reality. I do not believe that to be true. Where a few residents would be sitting and relaxing, one would not know the struggle that the senior had the entire day just to get up, bathe, dress, and eat, when no appetite exists. Activities that the healthy take for granted. I would run over and over in my mind, 24 hours a day, seven days a week: Are they safe? Are they eating? Are they experiencing pain? You make the most of your 12 + hour day in between mandatory meetings to ensure these concerns are addressed. As taught by many years of Sunrise trainings, managers are also expected to keep in mind the well being of your staff first. The idea being if your staff feel valued and appreciated, you will have well cared for residents, and in turn, that makes happy families. A good concept, but not foolproof.

My father died at the age of 84 from complications associated with Parkinson’s disease. He spent the last few weeks of his life at a state-run nursing home in Maryland that his veterans’ benefits would pay for. He was often dehydrated, over-medicated, and strapped in his wheelchair. I would find him soiled occasionally. I did not blame the staff of this facility. They were caring for individuals and they had huge case loads. The only difference between that facility and Sunrise facilities’ was the décor. A fresh flower on the table does not equate good care.

Let’s face it, that healthcare of our seniors in this country no matter what state you live in, is struggling. Give the workers and managers in these buildings a break and thank them the next time you see them.