My gosh, it was impressive, the way he appeared to defy every universal law of physics just to stay upright and nimble on his spindly little popsicle stick legs. “It’s a miracle, a true-blue spectacle,” I whispered to myself in awe and envy. “Could he be magic?” 

I’m similarly astonished by Mick Jagger, 80, and Paul McCartney, 81, who remain impervious to the ravages of time, and are able to still tour and perform at a high level without making a mockery of themselves. Tony Bennett continued to amaze and delight up until age 95, long after his diagnosis with Alzheimer’s. 

People like Barry, Mick, Paul and Tony make things tough for other seniors, and for me as I approach that time of life, because they skew the curve. Getting old should mean the pressures to achieve drop away, but after watching them onstage, I feel nothing but the growing panic of high expectations. Their performances make 85 seem like the new 70, but for most of us, that won’t stop 70 from feeling like 85. 

Fast forward a few years to when I’m your rehab patient, I’m already dreading the day I hit the wall and tell the therapist I can’t possibly take another step. Instead of reacting with acceptance and empathy, she’ll probably respond, “Of course you can. Don’t be such a wimp. I just saw Barry Manilow do it in Vegas, and he’s 100.” 

Actually, I suspect the secret to their unnatural longevity is wrapped around the self-sustaining nature of performance itself—the nurturing elation of feeling fervently loved and valued by their audiences. Even as my own pastor father aged into his mid-80s, I could see his energy spike and years drop from his face every time he stepped into the pulpit to deliver a sermon to a church full of true believers. When he was preaching, he was plugged in to the source, and it was a beautiful thing to watch.

You probably see this in your facilities every day, especially if you’re blessed with a great activity director who understands how to give each resident the opportunity to express themselves and be valued for it. Even just encouraging someone to tell you a story from their past, and responding to it positively and with presence, can offer them the sustaining warmth of an appreciative audience.

But I guess my main point is that while I don’t have a band, pyrotechnics or a literal stage, writing this column is also a performance of sorts. So as I enter my final years, your passionate loyalty and glowing feedback will be more critical and nourishing with each passing day. In other words, you hold my quality of life in your hands, and can only ensure my continued vitality by responding positively and passionately to my work. 

That means that in the absence of a literal performance space, and instead of screaming and waving glowsticks, you’ll each need to inundate the McKnight’s editorial team with emails, texts, social media posts and phone calls extolling my writing and rhapsodizing about how it has changed your lives for the better. 

Share from your hearts. Don’t hold back. Because my life depends on it, and I can’t smile without you.  

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

Dutifully receiving this nonverbal signal that she’d now be forced to interact, she turned from her computer screen and greeted me as pleasantly as could be expected. I very much doubt she’d awakened early that day, fighting traffic in the dark and rain, in order to play therapist for the elderly bald guy in his fit of morning melancholy. But she made the best of it. 

After a few minutes of my usual woe-is-mankind futility-of-my-existence riffs, when I paused to take my first breath, she jumped in with a tale of her own. Something about waking up one morning during the pandemic hardly able to breathe. Going to the ER. Finding out her lungs were full of blood clots. Nearly dying. That sort of thing. 

She didn’t conclude her story with a preachy moral, but the implication was clear. After experiencing the wake-up call of lying in an intensive care bed for a week, she’d decided it was way past time to be more positive, and less reactive to the anxieties of living. And her subtle, unspoken suggestion was that maybe I should too. 

“Now I choose joy every day,” she said. “I don’t focus on the news, or on the latest social media outrage, or on the tailgating truck driver who blasted me with his horn this morning. Life’s too short.”

It was just another serendipitous interaction with another wise coworker. Just another “exactly what I needed to hear” moment, one of many over the years at this fine long-term care company. 

Somehow, either through coincidence or witchcraft, our colleagues seem to have a spooky ability to give us exactly what we need at the perfect time. A pep talk. A work-appropriate hug. A passing conversation with someone from the next hall, floor or cubicle that takes on far more import and impact than they can ever possibly know. 

It’s a much-underestimated perk of our profession, this privilege of interacting with and being supported by a nurturing work family and culture. I know the notion of working from home still has some romance about it, but as long-term care staff, we should always treasure the richness that comes from a communal workplace experience. 

I’m well aware that some days the treasuring might not come quite so easily.  I’ve had colleagues who were annoying and frustrating. I’ve been a colleague who’s annoying and frustrating. But all in all, when we tally everything up, I’m convinced the truth will be clear. We’re better together.  

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

You probably see that statement for what it is, nothing but bitter bluster. Of course I care. Everyone does. The problem is we all expect, and feel we deserve, to be treated like gods on our special day, or even for the entire month, and nothing anyone tries to do in our honor ever quite measures up. 

For instance, my birthday was Tuesday, a mere two weeks after nine co-workers went to great effort to dress as me for Halloween. But when it rolled around, all anyone did was tape a cheap cardboard banner on a string across my office door. If interest in celebrating me continues to decline at this precipitous rate, next year I’ll be lucky to get a Post-It note, with “Happy Birthday, Dear Occupant” scribbled hastily in Sharpie. 

Sad, is what it was. But it’s my own fault, for allowing unrealistic birthday expectations to be my emotional puppet master. Someday, I’ll finally be given the recognition I deserve on every anniversary of my emergence into the world. Not by other humans. I’ve given up on them.

I’m counting on robots. 

By my first birthday as a facility resident, I hope/believe automatons and androids will have advanced sufficiently to pick up the celebratory slack where people consistently fail me. And the word out of Australia is heartening on this front. 

According to McKnight’s, a new robot called Abi is being tested in 40 long-term care communities Down Under, and is reported to combine artificial intelligence with the ability to do physical tasks. It apparently leverages ChatGPT to become a more relatable companion, and also tells jokes, blows bubbles and leads tai chi courses. 

With all those skills already demonstrated, there’s absolutely no reason Abi can’t also be tasked with delivering the level of birthday praise and recognition I deserve and demand. Exhilarated by the possibilities, I’ve spent the past 10 exciting minutes exploring how ChatGPT could eventually provide the words I’ll desperately need my robot to say about me. 

“It’s my birthday,” I typed into the text box. “Tell me I’m great.”

“You’re absolutely great!” came the instant response on-screen. “Everyone has unique qualities and strengths, and I’m sure you possess many wonderful attributes. Keep being the amazing person that you are!”

Now that’s more like it, a sentiment no living person could ever be trusted to speak. But my robot will. 

“Does life have meaning at my age?” I continued.

“Remember that the quest for meaning is a journey, and it can evolve over time,” said my new ChatGTP friend and future robot mentor. “It’s okay not to have all the answers, and it’s normal for your sense of meaning to shift as you navigate different life stages. If you find that these questions are causing distress, consider discussing your thoughts and feelings with friends, family, or a mental health professional who can offer support and guidance.”

A little preachy perhaps, but still a helpful perspective, one I’m sure will be easier to accept coming from my robot, hopefully in the voice of James Earl Jones. 

Looking ahead to that first facility birthday, I know I’ll also wish to rise above this annual window of sanctioned narcissism to accomplish a greater good. So I ended the AI conversation by making an unselfish request. 

“As a birthday present to me,” I asked, “could you please solve the staffing crisis crippling the long-term care profession?

“I wish I had the power to directly solve real-world issues like the staffing crisis in the long-term care profession,” came the disheartening response. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the ability to implement practical solutions or enact policies.” 

Great. My robot is going to be just another politician. Next year, just string up that cardboard banner again, and forget I said anything. 

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

I’m still not sure if it was intended as a loving tribute or blatant mockery, since I don’t possess the power to pierce the opacity of the human heart and discern anyone’s true motives. But nine previously loyal co-workers conspired this week to dress as me for the Halloween party at our long-term care company home office. 

They could have chosen Barbie, Spiderman or Taylor and Travis. Even Richard Nixon or a head of cabbage could have been a more pleasing and relevant costume choice. Instead, they rubbed their fake-bearded chins, put their pretend-balding heads together, and transformed into living, breathing incarnations of Gary Tetz. 

I had no advance warning of their diabolical plan, so was shocked to suddenly be surrounded by a horrifying Halloween horde of maniacally grinning clones. Driven by an unquenchable desire to either honor or humiliate, they became me, from my hipness-free wardrobe down to my pathological Canadian apologies and lame jokes.

It was odd and unsettling to spend a day laboring alongside what came to be called the Gaggle of Garys, but I should probably be nothing but grateful. Their costumes were a mirror, providing a rare opportunity to see myself as others see me and adjust my perspectives. For instance, without them I might never have realized I was suffering from hair loss, which apparently has become quite noticeable since high school. 

Long-term care being a difficult and exhausting profession for all concerned, it did occur to me that with so many other Garys around to take my place, this would have been the perfect moment to resign and creep anonymously into the sunset. But imagining the tear-streaked and anguished faces of the abandoned McKnight’s editorial team reawakened my loyalty and rekindled my passion.   

Though I spent the Halloween party pretending to be emotionally wounded by my colleagues’ all-too-accurate costumes, the truth is that like a lizard on a desert rock, I was actually basking in the sunshine of their attention. Deep down, I knew it was an expression of nothing but affection. And I was reminded that whether on the front lines of a facility or in any other long-term care role or location, the feeling of teamwork and human connection plays a huge role in bringing us back together every day to make life better for seniors. 

The importance of the work we each do is great, and the intrinsic rewards and motivations are many. But sometimes it’s the unconditional support and warm embrace of our co-workers that gives us the necessary strength to do this work, and do it well. Sometimes it just takes a Gaggle of Garys. 

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

A recent report by the New York Times identified 46 incidents involving major airlines in July of 2023 alone, and stated that “close calls … have been happening, on average, multiple times a week.” What’s a close call? Well, how about a FedEx plane passing within 100 feet of a Southwest jet with 128 passengers taking off for Cancun? That close. 

The margin on some of these incidents is adorably described by the Federal Aviation Administration as “skin-to-skin,” which sounds more like a Tinder request than a near-catastrophic collision. Here’s another good rule of thumb: If you’re in a window seat and notice that the pilot in a passing plane needs his or her nose hairs trimmed, you almost died. 

Frightening as all this is, here’s the part long-term care leaders might find… interesting? Frustrating? Hypocritical? Maybe a little bit absurd?  

Turns out, it’s largely a staffing problem.

I’ll quote directly from the report: “But the most acute challenge, The Times found, is that the nation’s air traffic control facilities are chronically understaffed. While the lack of controllers is no secret — the Biden administration is seeking funding to hire and train more — the shortages are more severe and are leading to more dangerous situations than previously known.”

Did I read that right? No knee-jerk royal decree? Just the search for a little funding to hire and train? The absence of draconian measures and lack of apparent urgency seems a bit incongruous compared to what nursing home providers are going through. 

It’s truly disorienting to see regulators and politicians attempt to solve a different staffing crisis by actually investing resources in recruiting and education, rather than reflexively legislating. What happened to their tried and true long-term care model — ignore a crippling nationwide labor shortage, stoke public outrage and simply roll out a magical unfunded mandate that could, in the long run, reduce available service? 

Why take the time to wrestle with inconvenient truths, when they could just impose a rule, disregard all external factors and likely consequences, and serenely walk away whistling.  

Aren’t they busy? Don’t they have a flight to catch? 

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

Now, lest you get the wrong idea, it’s not like any of the national long-term care organizations filed a restraining order against me, or I was thrown out for stealing handfuls of swag on a trade show floor. I simply haven’t gone, and I’m consumed with regret just thinking about it. 

Even after years of absence, autumn still brings a certain sense of wistfulness for the conference experience. “For a clue to the shifting seasons, there’s no need to watch for turning leaves,” I apparently wrote years ago in McKnight’s. “The AHCA and LeadingAge conferences are the true harbingers, when hordes of LTC folks fly in perfect formation to warm trade show environments, and booth-sitting sales reps change color and fall from their hotel barstools.” 

In truth, though, it’s probably best that I not show up anymore for one of these gatherings. As my column has become infinitely more popular and influential,* I would fully expect to be mobbed by loyal and admiring readers, and to become an unwelcome and counterproductive distraction from the proceedings. The resulting melee would be a lot like Taylor Swift at a Kansas City Chiefs football game, and I couldn’t in good conscience allow that to happen. 

As I’ve followed this year’s event from afar, it’s clear that the proposed staffing mandate is taking up a lot of oxygen in the room, and rightly so. Long-term care leaders are determined to somehow nip it in the bud, and it’s looking like lawmakers are also taking up the cause. This coming on the heels of learning that even prisons had fewer staffing shortages during the pandemic than nursing homes did.

Maybe with all the growing pressure, those responsible for this misguided plan will finally see the light. But it’s hard to imagine any CMS administrator or president ever following Taylor Swift’s noble example and simply admitting, “It’s me, hi, I’m the problem.”

*That’s a lie. It has not. 

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

It’s a relatively small sample size, I realize, and I’m reluctant to extrapolate to include the entire female gender. But in my experience, no matter how comfortable it is inside, and no matter how unpleasant the exterior conditions, given the choice, women have generally preferred out there to in here. 

Regardless of Dengue-carrying mosquitos, dive-bombing killer bees, voracious ants and nearby nests of venom-spitting snakes, I’ve still frequently heard my mother, sister, spouse or girlfriend say, in the most exuberant of tones, “It’s a lovely day. Let’s eat outside!” It seems to revitalize them, and judging from the look on a face tilted back in the sun with eyes closed, it’s a moment nearing spiritual transcendence.

“Well, that’s a mighty interesting observation,” you might think while nodding and rubbing your chin. “But what does it possibly have to do with long-term care?” 

Well, nothing. And everything. 

I think it relates to the most basic truths of our personalities and habits, the preferences and interests we spend lifetimes gathering, nurturing and learning to enjoy on an almost cellular level. Once we’re closer to the end than the beginning, a stage with which I’m all too familiar with these days, those impulses don’t just disappear. But through hardships and diminishing health, they get sublimated as expectations ebb and hope for life as it was gradually recedes. 

And once we’re in a senior care facility, though we may want more than anything to still pursue our most beloved passions, or even just to eat outside, we’re more likely to get quietly lost in our own melancholy. 

I ponder this a lot as I imagine the very real possibility of being in one of your buildings myself someday. Music is a passion of mine. Will I still get to listen to it? What about movies, and old detective shows. How will I watch what I want to watch? And if I’m not entirely of sound mind, will I still have headphones placed in my ears or be set in front of a TV by someone who knows who I used to be, and what I formerly enjoyed?

At the end of his life, my dad just wanted to be riding horses. And bless her heart, the irrepressible recreation therapist who stopped by his hospital room did her best to get him excited about developing some new interests. But in truth, finding some John Wayne movies on his Roku or helping him listen to a Louis L’Amour book on his phone would probably have been a more successful gambit.

To all you facility leaders, this isn’t remotely a criticism. I know you’re all-in on person-centered care, and establishing deep connections with patients and residents is at the root of what your great activity directors already do. I also know that in any type of communal setting some compromises have to be made, and it’s impossible to help everyone in your care fully recapture every interest and preference. 

But we can always do better, and somehow, despite the financial and regulatory pressures, the staffing challenges and the endless hurdles of yet another hectic day, we must always do everything we possibly can to connect individuals with the things they’ve loved to do, and the people they’ve been, for their entire lives.

For me, all I’ll need is some classical music in my ear buds, and a TV to play old Columbo movies. And for this lovely lady sitting in her wheelchair beside me, could we possibly move a table to the patio? She just wants to eat outside. 

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

This happens most often while hiking, when I’ve dutifully set the device to track my activity. I’ll be laboring up the trail, trekking poles flailing, breathing like I’m summiting Everest without oxygen, heart beating at the speed of a Metallica drum riff, and it has the audacity to ask me if I’ve completed my workout. 

“No! I’m not %$^&*#@ done!” I bellow. Each body function my watch is supposed to be monitoring should clearly show I’m very much still engaged in active exercise, but somehow it thinks I’m reclining or dead.  

My salty reaction is needlessly critical, of course. Our modern wearables are little short of magic, and I well remember the days when I’d measure workout time with a sundial and track heart beats with an abacus. So I should probably learn to accept the occasional glitch and just be grateful.

But I’m not alone in my unwarranted disdain. Seniors, especially those with heart disease, apparently aren’t embracing the many wearable tech tools available to monitor their health, according to a McKnight’s report, and this seems unfortunate. 

Personally, despite my occasional hostile outbursts, I’m completely addicted to my watch’s health tracking functions and data. The first thing I do after waking in the morning is to check how well I slept. What I appreciate most is the opportunity this gives me to experience failure by 5 a.m. In the past, I’ve had to wait until arriving at work to enjoy that feeling. 

In the BT (Before Technology) days of my relative youth, I only had a vague and mostly anecdotal sense of ill health, unreinforced by reliable data. Now I can see how poorly I feel on my wrist, all the time, whether I want to or not. Actually, maybe that’s why seniors mostly avoid the technology. Perhaps blissful ignorance is better than wearing a constant reminder that something’s amiss. 

Eventually, though, as people like me start filling your facilities, we’ll be more comfortable with it, and I’m convinced it will enhance our quality of life and the facility experience. I’ve personally enjoyed sharing workout data with friends, and I expect that kind of synergy between patients and their therapists and care teams. They’ll hear encouragements like, “One more time down the hallway and back, Bob, and you’ll close that exercise ring!” Or, “Wow, I see you’ve already taken 4,000 steps. Great job!” 

Wearable technology for seniors is already helping identify serious health problems while they can be mitigated, reducing fall risk and streamlining communication with physicians and pharmacists. It also has potential to help facility staff achieve greater levels of fitness and find more effective ways to deal with job-related stress. 

So next time we’re tempted to yell at our watches, let’s keep in mind that for all its dark side, technology can make us all healthier, happier, and more effective in everything we do. Maybe most importantly, we’ll be better partners in wellness for those we serve. 

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

Unfortunately, if McKnight’s headlines are any indication, getting fantastic sleep in adequate quantities is hugely important to that quest, maybe even more so than vitamins, vegetables or vodka, which I choose to believe is technically a vegetable.

Sadly, among the many things I do poorly, sleeping is the worst. As I’ve probably mentioned before, nothing wakes me up like going to bed. When I tap on the Sleep icon each morning, I can hear my Apple Watch yawn, and the sleep tracking graphs I religiously review look like seismic depictions of the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. 

It’s a personal problem, is what I’m saying. I need professional help. But what I definitely didn’t need was the recent McKnight’s headline suggesting that loneliness and insomnia are linked. As a single person living alone, that’s way too much pressure. I wonder how well “Single, white, aging Canadian seeking nurturing partner to prophylactically prevent Alzheimer’s” is going to be received on Match.com. 

In the unlikely event that I actually identify a foolish human willing to cohabitate with me, I expect the loneliness problem would persist, as I have long advocated that those who live together, even married people, should still have their own rooms. “It’s sad that the idyllic world of ’50s-era TV couples with their separate twin beds turned out to be such an unachievable utopia,” were my exact words, in this very publication.  

Adding insult to injury is yet another headline, making the case that not getting enough sleep might negate the positive effects of exercise, which has often been touted as protective against cognitive decline. “We were surprised that regular physical activity may not always be sufficient to counter the long-term effects of lack of sleep on cognitive health,” said one of the study’s co-authors. But whatever. I didn’t want to exercise anyway.  

So, to briefly summarize the important takeaways from this discussion: Loneliness causes insomnia, but in my case won’t solve it, and since I can’t sleep, exercise won’t do any good, but if I don’t exercise I’ll look pale and sickly and no one will agree to move in with me to help solve my loneliness/insomnia problem, which will then get progressively worse until eventually I’m forced to come live in your very fine Five-Star memory care facility.*

Vicious cycle, meet unsolvable conundrum. 

In closing, yet another study reported recently in McKnight’s predicted that half the population of the United States will have a mental disorder by the age of 75. Is this solely from loneliness and lack of sleep? The article does not, or will not, say. 

Just one more thing to keep me awake at night. 

*Consider yourselves warned, and I strongly suggest that each long-term care operator in America take immediate steps to operate at full census for the next few years, until such time as the danger of my imminent admission has passed.

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.

Before they passed, she looked up at me, pointed to the sheer drop down to the raging river, and calmly pronounced, “If you fall over, you will die.”

Now she seemed a little less adorable, more like one of the demon twins in “The Shining” than Dorothy from “The Wizard of Oz.” I’m not great with heights, or more accurately, frequently terrified. So though she was right, I was resentful of her warning. The last thing I wanted was to have my pristine fortress of denial blown apart with her uninvited truth bomb.  

“Shouldn’t you be at the Barbie movie, instead of needlessly freaking out old people in the wilderness?” I resisted asking. Because if I thought about falling off every cliff edge I nervously pass, I’d probably never leave the trailhead. 

In long-term care, it should be a relief that this creepy child won’t be showing up to give any similarly unwelcome proclamations at your next facility all-staff. Because if leaders and employees were constantly reminded of the many dangers and challenges you regularly face, you might opt not to hike this trail anymore.

If you’re an owner, you’re always battling an existential menace of some kind. If you’re a facility leader, managing daily turmoil is an accepted feature, not a bug, as are the more macro threats of staffing shortages and regulatory burdens. 

If you’re a nurse or CNA, you’re sad sometimes. You lose people you treasure. Stories from the pandemic abound of staff going far beyond their actual responsibilities to serve in any way possible, even sitting up all night with isolated residents so they wouldn’t die alone. 

You also regularly put yourselves at risk for your residents and patients. That concept was heartbreakingly on display this week, as a nurse at a Michigan nursing home died while saving the life of a wandering patient. 

In other words, folks who work in long-term care typically feel the dangers go with the territory, and further warnings are unnecessary and unwelcome. No matter what unprecedented threat might arise, evidence suggests you’re going to keep doing what you do. 

You’re going to be tired beyond belief. You’re going to be passionate and dedicated. You’re going to be vulnerable. You’re going to put yourselves at physical and emotional risk. Regardless of what a creepy 5-year-old might tell you. 

Things I Think is written by Gary Tetz, a two-time national Silver Medalist and three-time regional Gold and Silver Medal winner in the Association of Business Press Editors (ASBPE) awards program, as well as an Award of Excellence honoree in the APEX Awards. He’s been amusing, inspiring, informing and sometimes befuddling long-term care readers worldwide since the end of a previous century. He is a writer and video producer for Consonus Healthcare Services in Portland, OR.

The opinions expressed in McKnight’s Long-Term Care News guest submissions are the author’s and are not necessarily those of McKnight’s Long-Term Care News or its editors.

Have a column idea? See our submission guidelines here.