The sign on the door read, "Helen, please do not open this door." The sign worked, Helen no longer wandered off into the night, leaving behind a bevy of worried Personal Care Attendants, trying to locate her. One of the board members at the Residence took offence to the sign. They said it was politically incorrect, discriminatory, it was only aimed at Helen, and it should be altered or removed. The nurses cut away the piece with "Helen…" written on it and made it a general sign for all the residents. Helen wandered out the door that same night.
Helen is a victim of Senile Dementia, her brain doesn't function the way we would like it to - predictably, like everyone else's. The sign in question had only deterred her from leaving when it had her name on it because she recognised her name when she saw it. She was then able to connect it to any other attached information. Her name was removed, in the hope that it would also stop the other residents leaving the building. The politically corrected sign worked for no one.
Helen lives in an “Aged Care Facility”. These Facilities are no longer called “old peoples' homes”, as they were back in the seventies. “Facility” has a far more efficient sound to it than plain old “home”; as soon as the word “facility” is mentioned, one hears the bustling of nurses and the squeak of medicine trolleys. Exchanging these two words has also made it impossible to trick Gran into thinking she is now going home after a lovely day out.
My Gran is no longer spoken of as “an old lady who is an inmate at an old people's home”. Even though she is mine, I am expected to refer to her as “a mature resident in an Aged Care Facility”. Gran doesn't know or care either way, she is just happy to have a comfortable chair. My nephew calls her “the old biddy” or “the relic” and I try to correct him; he hasn't learnt respect for his elders at this point in his life.
The people who care for Gran, Helen, and the other residents are called Personal Care Attendants. I know this because I once made the mistake of calling out, "Nurse", when Gran had fallen. The person who came to our aid told me politely that she hadn't studied nearly as hard as a nurse and to please refer to her as a PCA or the “real” nurses would give her a difficult time, understandably so.
We used to call the food in old peoples' homes, “senior vittles”. The food is now called “nutritionally balanced dietary sustenance”. This means the baked dinner that has been bamixed retains the dignity of a “real” meal. When I help Gran eat her slop I am asked to call it “meal assistance” rather than...feeding.
No wonder Helen wanders off, she's probably looking for a nice steak.
