Posting about call buttons made me think about the low-tech system my dad used to call his caregivers on the west coast. He kept this bell on his night stand, and rang it when he needed help in the middle of the night. It worked well — at least it served to wake me up, so I could wake up the caregivers — but that’s another story.
I don’t have arthritic hands (yet), but the things that annoy me most on a daily basis are light switches. Ours are the ones that snap when they get pushed. When they get pushed hard, that is. Try pushing one of those babies when you’ve got a plate of crackers-and-cheese in one hand and a glass of juice in another. Pow — the wall needs washing and the crackers are a-slippin’. Even without arthritis, I don’t have an iota of the strength required to control the awesome power of a sprung light switch.
Back in the middle of the 20th century, it was very common to attach little white plastic barrels to toddler’s shoes. The barrels unscrewed at one end so they could be slipped over a tied shoelace — locking it in place, neatly tied. On top of the barrel was a single jingle bell, presumably for said child’s amusement, but also so that anyone could track the little rascal’s movements by ear alone.
Call buttons and bed controls are a critical part of nursing home life. For someone like my dad, who is able to manage these on his own, using them is one manifestation of independence. He can request that someone come to his room, rather than passively waiting, and he can adjust his bed without any help.
Writing has become difficult for my dad, and he does very little of it these days. After Christmas, though, he wanted to write short replies to a number of Christmas cards. It was difficult for him to hold on to the paper, so I rigged up a fat rubber band to hold it on his writing table.
Shoelaces, those clever fasteners, have bedeviled us since their invention, untying at will and leaving us disheveled, or worse, splayed all over the floor. Mousetraps aside, the Nobel awarded by the daily-living gods may one day be offered for the perfect shoelace solution. Accordingly, here’s another nominee: a velcro wrap invented by a coach in Texas.
It’s winter, and the house is cold, especially at night — and nothing is colder than my feet. What I long for, on these cold evenings, is the perfect pair of socks. I want the lovely woolly ones that are soft and dreamy. Sadly, fuzzy socks threaten to kill me with every step I take.
Much to everyone’s surprise, my dad not only survived his transfer from the west coast to a nursing home on the east coast, but he thrived. It wasn’t long before I began looking for ways to get him out and about — not just to doctors, but so that he could get to know the area around the home and have at least a bit of the sense of freedom that he had had when living at home.
One of the everyday aids I did see at WCD Expo was the PikStik Pro. A reacher — essentially a stick with a clamp-like grabber on one end — has been an essential part of my dad’s life for many years now. It’s not just a convenience, but a matter of safety and well-being — over-balancing is definitely not good for Dad!
Come to think of it, just about every household could use a reacher or two in strategic places.
I’ve used lots of reachers that handle chunky stuff (think cans, etc.) but this is the first one I’ve used successfully for a situation requiring a more deft touch.
Using it, I was able to lift a business card repeatedly from a flat, hard counter with no trouble at all — the tips are ‘grippy’ and more sensitive than those on the heavier duty reachers.
For those finer pick-up tasks (pens, pencils, pieces of paper, a comb, etc.), this could be a great solution. It’s available on Amazon and comes in various lengths.
I enjoyed the WCD Expo and chatting with various visitors and vendors, but was left wondering again why there were so few booths showcasing everyday aids. Nichole Medical Equipment and Supply (Philadelphia) had an extensive exhibit of scooters, chairs and accessories and few vendors had miscellaneous items — a buttoning aid, etc., but that was about it.
Maybe it’s too much of a nuisance to haul cartons of small items to a show, but it’s so difficult to track them down out in the wild, and tough to determine if what you’re seeing on a web page will really do the job. Is there a better place to sell the tools that can make daily living easier? Is there better exposure? A better focus group? Honestly, I’d really like to know . . .