As a society, I feel we do not do enough for our elders.
In the First Nations tradition, elders are respected and given the care and attention they deserve. But, sadly, this is not the case among many of us of north European descent.
Once we have left the parents who raised us, taught us, and created for us the opportunities we enjoy, we too often leave them behind.
Too often we forget and misunderstand the elderly among us and their needs.
And too often, we stow seniors in nasty and impersonal extended-care facilities and, thereby, doom them to live out their remaining years amid soulless daily routine and boredom.
I cannot claim innocence on this front. I have elderly family members who get altogether too little of my attention and who are wasting away their remaining time in emotionally uninteresting circumstances.
So, my questions are these: What are the unique mental health and social difficulties facing our senior generations, and what can we realistically do to help?
One thing I have noticed with the senior members of my own family is over-medication. I was appalled recently to discover that an elder in my clan was taking seven – seven! – psychiatric medications. Two anti-depressants, two tranquilizers, one anti-psychotic, and two stimulants. This for a women with no history of mental illness.
I am not a cynic, but I do know that most seniors’ homes are understaffed, and the chemical management of inconvenient behaviour is common.
However, it is my sense that there are persistent problems that we, as sons and daughters and caregivers, can readily address to better the lives of our elders: education, advocacy, and social access – an interrelated trifecta that we can manage.
First, we can educate ourselves and our elders about health and social options. There are particular psychological challenges that attend old age, as is an ongoing need for social stimulation that can be understood and remedied.
Symptoms of classic depression are frequent in our elders. Does this mean they need medication? No! More often than not, the malaise and sadness we see in our loved ones is simply the result of loneliness and lack of stimulation.
Second, we can advocate for our elders. If we feel that the care of our loved ones is inadequate, and that they suffer in silence, then we must use our loud voices and insist that their particular needs are met. If our elders are in residential care, then we must be in constant contact with the staff there. We must insist that adequate social and emotional support is available.
Third, and perhaps most important, is social access.
Our elders, sadly, endure a dwindling supply of social peers. Those of us in our late middle age know about this, as old lovers and friends are suddenly and unexpectedly taken away in their prime. We must learn from this and appreciate what it is to be without the lives and loves we once thought were eternal.
We must go to wherever our elders live, regularly, and remind them that they are loved and in our thoughts. And, if they are in residential care, we must make sure that they are not alone between family visits – that there are daily social programs beyond mindless bingo and shuffleboard.
These thoughts do not come out of the blue. It has been my great privilege and honour to know and learn from members of the Sechelt Indian Band. Their wisdom, respect and – above all – humour have changed forever the way I will live with the elders in my life.
